Julia
Chapter Seven

Disclaimers, etc. in Headers


Undisclosed location
West Virginia Mountains
June 7, 2000
7:45 p.m.


"Scully, you have to get more rest.  You're
wearing yourself out."

Frohike approached her in the control room with
a cup of hot coffee.  Byers and Langly were
resting in rooms down the hall, having ended
their twelve hour shift at 4:00.  She had no
idea where Krycek was, nor did she care.  She
assumed he was crawling around somewhere in the
cavernous bunker.  It was huge; sometimes she
thought it might have been the exact place where
she and Mulder had seen those rows of file
cabinets years before, but she didn't care
enough to ask.  It didn't matter where they were
exactly... all that mattered was that it was
still unsafe to leave.

"We work in shifts, remember?  I have to pull my
weight," she answered, taking the steaming cup
from him with a nod of thanks.

He sat across from her at the table and fingered
the printouts before her.  "You've looked at
these a hundred times.  The disc was corrupted,
Scully.  We couldn't find anything else."

The pages blurred before her but she refused to
give up.  The printout of the machine language
on the disc did have some letters of the
alphabet interspersed here and there; it was
like a crossword puzzle that was missing some
very important letters.  She just had to
concentrate.

Apis mellifera scutellata... it was one of the
pieces of the puzzle she'd recognized
immediately.  It was the scientific name for the
Africanized honeybee.  The garbage below it was
related to the insect's physiology, she was sure
of it.  But the garbled letters made no sense. 
Not yet, anyway.

"I'll find it.  I just have to know where to
look."  Her voice dwindled as she recalled
saying similar words to Mulder on the day they
first met.  She was bent on taking her own
advice, even if it meant doing without a few
hours' sleep.

Suddenly, one of the computers that lined the
far wall began to beep.  Insistently, it
beckoned to them both with an incoming message.

The Gunmen had made good on their promise,
creating an untraceable network of informants
and contacts, people just like them.  The
computers were on night and day, waiting for any
tidbit of useful information to come down the
underground pipeline.

Scully and Frohike jumped at the sound and
spared a quick meeting of their glances before
moving to the computer.

"What is it?" she asked, hovering over his
shoulder as he sat down at the keyboard.

"Incoming video."  He moved the mouse to begin
the download process, then started the movie
player.  "I think this is what you wanted,
Scully."

The grainy video was dark, but it was good
enough to be able to discern what was happening. 
It was obviously taken outdoors, with only a few
high-powered flashlights for illumination.  She
didn't blame whoever had filmed this; she
wouldn't have brought this thing into the
bunker, though that's exactly what she
originally planned when she'd asked the Gunmen
for a body.  But one look at it would have
changed her mind in a heartbeat.

She gasped at the sight of the body on the
table... she'd seen this before... in the morgue
in Maryland.  The flesh was almost completely
transparent.  A squirming parasite beneath the
skin made it bulge in places.  This was what the
black oil did... Mulder had told her of seeing
many bodies like this on board the ship in
Antarctica.

She shivered with revulsion at the realization
that what they were witnessing was a birth. 
From the corner of her eye, she saw Frohike gulp
broadly and turn his head.

The sound was not the best either, but she
picked up on, "Stay away!" and "Get ready to
shoot!"

After a few seconds of struggle, it burst forth
from the straining skin, the ribs of the victim
exploding outward in a crumble of porous bone. 
The newborn crawled its way out, a screech of
unholy success blaring from the monitor.

"Don't let it get away!"

The shout from off screen was unnecessary,
Scully realized.  The hideous fledgling was a
tangled mass of limbs.  One single black eye
peered out from the right side of its head;   on
the left, a compound eye three times the size of
the other eye told her of its cross-mutation, as
did the half-developed wings.

This wasn't supposed to be, she thought.  The
alien DNA had somehow cross-bred with the insect
DNA, resulting in a creature that struggled to
even move from its host.  Within a few seconds,
the people who stayed well away from it moved
closer and the cameraman steadied his shaky hold
on the video camera, zooming in.

"Wait."  A man, the obvious leader of the group
from the others' reaction to his command -
they'd stilled immediately - moved forward and
poked the creature with his rifle.  It mewled
with distress, trying in vain to bring its limbs
together with any semblance of coordination.

Within minutes, it was dead.  The leader
instructed the others to burn it and the video
ended abruptly.

Scully felt another piece of the puzzle fall
into place.  She looked at Frohike and he met
her gaze with equal discernment.

"He never meant to succeed," she breathed with
wonder, a small smile of satisfaction gracing
her face.

"But was the virus mutated before the bees
carried it?  Or did the mutation occur within
the bee?"  Frohike beat Scully to the obvious
questions.

"That - I don't know," she breathed, "but it's
worth finding out, don't you agree?"

"Definitely," he murmured, his eyebrows arching
as he returned her grin. 

She moved away quickly, back to the printouts,
adrenaline wiping away her fatigue.  "It's in
here somewhere," she stated, shuffling the
papers.  "His whole plan... the biology of the
mutation... his intention to make the aliens
come to him for help..."  She looked at Frohike
for the first time in days with a burgeoning
hope.

"Maybe even the mechanism of the vaccine."


**********


Washington, D. C.
January 30, 2001
7:05 a.m.


Julia opened her eyes slowly.  Was the procedure
over with already?  She parted her lips and
tried to speak.  It still tickled, and she
coughed to clear her throat.

"Damn," she croaked.

No... wait, there was nothing there.  No sound,
just a breathy slip of the tongue.  On one hand,
she wished for her voice.  There were so many
questions left unanswered and she wanted Mulder
to provide those answers, right here and now.

But it was also a good thing that she couldn't
speak.  She didn't trust herself not to rail at
him for leaving her, for becoming a monster.

Was he, though?  Her rational mind embraced the
facts.  Living among Cancerman and his army,
enjoying warmth, food and sex. However much it
looked like he was one huge ball of anger,
surely if he didn't want to be here, he would
have found a way out?  And then, what she'd seen
him do many months ago, the heartless act that
told her he wasn't the same person... wasn't her
Mulder... how to reconcile that?

Her emotional self refused the possibility. 
She'd known him long enough to know that he was
a caring, sensitive man.  Taking the pain of
others on his shoulders, unwilling to harm
another soul even if it meant bringing hurt upon
himself.  He'd given up so many things for
her... gone to the ends of the Earth for her...
told her that she was his savior, many times
over....

No, no, no!

She was no longer that person, she was Julia
Longfellow, whore to the Minister of Justice. 
Well, technically not yet.  After she'd stumbled
to her bedroom, she'd not seen him again.  And
from the looks of the sunlit room, the morning
was upon her.  Would she be graced with his
presence at all today?  Much as she needed to
wheedle her way into his life as quickly as
possible, she didn't really relish the idea of
seeing him so soon after the greeting she'd had
last night.

But business was business.  There was work to be
done and she wasn't getting anywhere by lying in
bed all day.

She sat up and put her legs over the side of the
bed with a grimace.  She felt as if her insides
had been ripped by that butcher of a doctor; 
thank goodness her new master had not been in
the mood for sex last evening.  Painless, my
ass, she thought.  After donning the now
wrinkled dress once more, she slowly walked to
the bathroom.

Oh, thank you, she mouthed to nobody in
particular at the sight of the huge bathtub. 
Just what she needed - a long, hot soak.  It had
been several months since she'd afforded herself
that luxury.  Most of the time lately,
cleanliness amounted to a quick, tepid shower in
a community bathroom.  Was it in Santa Fe that
she'd last had a bath?  Or was it Nashville?  No
matter.  She was wasting time on the memories of
a dead woman when she could be experiencing the
joys of a live one.

In minutes she was up to her neck in lilac-
scented water, a cool washcloth covering her
red-rimmed eyes.

"You know, you're going to wrinkle that lovely
skin of yours, my dear."

Shit!  Julia splashed clumsily, the washcloth
falling to her breasts.

"It's okay, it's just me," Eliza said from the
doorway.  She stood there in a purple suit that
was obviously not a rip-off.  "I'm sorry I
startled you, Julia.  I knocked several times
and I began to get a little worried, so I let
myself in."

She had a key?

Eliza sat upon the curved chair in front of the
vanity.  "No, Julia, I don't have a key.  Nobody
does.  Haven't you noticed?  None of the doors
in this place have locks.  Where would you go
anyway, even if you could get away?"

Mulder's bedroom door had a lock and he made
sure she knew it.

"So... how did it go last night?  I saw the
Minister and his bodyguards leave.  He looked
like he was on his way to the gym, so I thought
I'd sneak in to see if you were okay."  She
leaned forward eagerly.  "The man simply exudes
sex from every pore, Julia.  Please tell me you
came at least once last night or you'll sorely
disappoint me."

Julia hated to lie to Eliza again, but
circumstances forbade the truth.  If anyone knew
just how dissatisfied Mulder was with her
presence, she'd be out of here in a flash.

Three fingers crept up out of the steamy water. 
Her companion sat back with a smug grin.  "I
knew it," she declared, her eyes closing with a
sigh.

Well, it really was not a total lie; Julia had
died a little death every time Mulder had
touched her.

"Oh, Julia, what I wouldn't give to be in your
place."

Yeah, unable to speak, living in close quarters
with a man who despised you.  That was the high
life, all right.  Julia had enough of the tepid
water and the simpering musings of Eliza.  She
stood and grabbed a bath sheet from the towel
rack, releasing the water with a flick of her
toes.

"We have lots to do today, Julia.  Hurry up and
get dressed so we can be out of here before he
gets back."

Lots to do?  Once again, she saw the woman pick
up on her facial expressions.  She supposed she
shouldn't be surprised.  After all, Eliza had
been working with concubines for quite some time
now.

"Yes," Eliza said, grabbing her shoulders and
propelling her into the bedroom.  "I've brought
a change of clothes for you, but we must go
downstairs today and select a complete wardrobe. 
They didn't want to outfit you until we were
sure you'd been accepted by him."

Oh, she'd been accepted all right.  He may never
speak to her again, but she was pretty sure he
wouldn't throw her out.  His dissatisfaction
would mean her death and somehow, she'd seen a
glimpse of his sympathetic nature in the glow of
his eyes.  Yes, he'd called her a whore.  But
his words were a double-edged sword, cutting
himself as well as her.

But what of the tape?  She'd seen him do
something she thought she'd never see him do...
without batting an eyelash.  She'd been here a
matter of hours and already she found herself
second-guessing the evidence right before her
eyes.

Julia shrugged off the beginnings of sympathy
and smiled at the jeans and sweater on the bed. 
At least she didn't have to go out in a harem
costume.  Still no shoes, though.  Eliza rambled
on and on about the suite, and hers right across
the hall, while Julia dressed.

"...and all you have to do is press the call
button by the door and in no time, a servant
appears.  Want some champagne?  No problem. 
Breakfast?  Right away, madam.  It's heaven, I
tell you.  Sheer heaven."

Breakfast, her stomach growled.  Feed me, I'm
hungry.  Julia rubbed her hand over her belly,
eyeing Eliza like she was a pork chop.

"Oh, my dear, I'm sorry!  Here I am, talking
your poor head off, and you're starving!  I saw
a tray on the table when I walked in - maybe
it's your breakfast."

It was breakfast, all right.  Buttery
croissants, mouth-watering apple cinnamon
muffins, juice and coffee.  Last night's clutter
of empty glasses had been removed, all except
for a solitary coffee cup by Mulder's chair. 
She assumed he'd had breakfast before he left. 
Did he eat up here at every meal?  If this was a
hotel, surely there were dining facilities
somewhere.  Maybe he chose not to dine with the
other administrators; he'd always been the
antisocial sort.

Eliza sipped coffee while Julia wolfed down one
muffin, then another.  "Careful, dear. 
Concubines - oh, excuse me, *escorts* - are not
allowed to put on too much weight.  Unless the
master likes a woman with a little flesh, if you
know what I mean."

Ding!  In the blessed silence of one of Eliza's
infrequent pauses, the elevator announced its
arrival.  The two women froze.

"Shit!" Eliza exclaimed.  "He's back.  God damn
it, I'm not supposed to be in here when he's
here."  She stood and frantically made for the
door, where she stopped at the murmur of voices.

Julia met her wild eyes and signaled her to the
bedroom.  Get in there, she mouthed.

"But what if he wants to - you know?"

In answer, Julia grabbed her arm and dragged her
into the room with an exasperated roll of her
eyes.  Eliza didn't have to worry on that
account.

"But, but..." Eliza sputtered as Julia brought
her index finger to her lips.  Be quiet, Eliza,
her finger said against her mouth.

"Julia!"

Julia closed the door on Eliza's frightened
hiss, then turned to welcome her master.



End Chapter Seven