MISPRISION

Misprision: (pronounced, miss-prizz-ee-on); adjective; Middle English, a mistake, misdirection or a misunderstanding, deliberate concealment or deflection in the release of information - from Old French 'mesprendre' to mistake, ... was still in common usage in 16th century England.

Chapter Fourteen

Alex's apparent calm acceptance of Samantha's reassurance did not last. He was aware that Samantha too had been forced to make decisions in the past that others might think of as unethical. Her admission that she had indeed allowed, or at least not prevented the aliens from introducing their metal alloys into Mulder's body certainly gave him pause for thought. He knew that, like him, Samantha would do anything she could to ensure that Spender and his ilk did not succeed. If that included using him as a guinea pig for the cause though he felt he would almost rather that Spender triumphed. But no, he reflected, on balance that was not true. Still the thought of what he might become, if he had indeed been infected by the metal, chilled him to the bone. Of course if Sam had allowed Doctor Borrachio to use the alien alloys then there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

He only wished he didn't feel so 'disconnected'. He found himself unable to focus his mind on anything successfully. Whatever shit Graaf and Spender had pumped into him had left him with no energy and a head that felt cut off from the rest of his body. He found this puzzling in the extreme considering the conversation they'd had over him about the 'super' strength and stamina he'd supposedly been endowed with during their experiments. He certainly felt no evidence of any such advantage. Of course, the feeling of 'disjointed reality' and the lack of both physical and mental control was, in part certainly, exacerbated by the painkillers and antibiotics that Borrachio had given him. Still, all things considered, he almost felt he'd rather suffer the pain he'd had before than inhabit this muffled stupor he was in now. Sure, the pain, well the agony, had sucked big time, but at least there'd been that sharp edge there and he'd been able to focus better mentally.

He sighed. There was no point in going over and over it in his head. Until he got his physical control and his strength back he would just have to resign himself to whatever Skinner and company had in store for him. In the meantime there was no point in his fighting against his body. Whatever happened, happened.

He smiled inwardly at that thought. That he, of all people, should fall so easily into adopting such a classical Russian fatalism at this stage of his life. He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer and slipped, exhaustedly, into sleep.

Byers woke Monica and greeted her with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry to wake you so soon Agent Reyes, but you did say you wanted to know as soon as we found anything."

She looked at him sleepily at first, but roused herself on one elbow and cleared her throat.

"That's fine John.' she said. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A little over four hours." Byers said. "Ringo and Melvin have managed to break down all the barriers they encountered and have gotten into the data bases you wanted. You might want to come and look."

Monica nodded in agreement.

"Ok. Just let me get myself together and I'll be right there." she said, swinging her legs to the edge of the bed.

Byers nodded.

"So we'll see you shortly," he said, "oh and Melvin said to tell that there was pizza and coffee."

Monica closed her eyes and tried to collect her thoughts. She had needed the sleep and though the period had been short, it had certainly helped. Now she was all set to get back into the fray. Her partner was counting on her and she would not let him down.

Graaf grinned to himself. just because his complexion gave him a washed out and insignificant appearance, and he was a scientist, people were always underestimating his physical abilities. These people were, it seemed, no exception. Idiots! Nonetheless it was this very idiocy that he relied upon, and once again it had worked in his favour. He laughed. Spender though he was so clever, so in control, so intimidating. Little did the dried up old prune know that the experiments he had been relying on to provide the resources which would help restore his strength and give him immunity against the depredations of the alien virus, had been producing spectacular results. Graaf had been keeping separate notes on the extra curricular experiments he had been conducting. Not only that, but he had personally been making use of the resulting product of those same experiments for months. Let the aliens breed their 'super soldiers' or produce them by metamorphosis during their own experiments. He had been given the means to reduce all of those achievements to nothing more than a step on the ladder to superiority.

He had always known that he was capable of such achievements. Others had called him a megalomaniac with unrealistic goals, but at least Spender had recognised his abilities and afforded him the opportunity to further his research. It was just too bad that the old relic would not benefit from the fruits of that research. Graaf fully understood Spender's desire to be the sole beneficiary of that work, but he ws definitely not about to allow the man to inherit the earth. That particular privilege belonged to him, and him alone. He had slaved over the tedious work for years. He alone deserved to reap the reward. Nothing could stand in his way.

Frohike glanced up as Monica entered the room.

"Ah, Agent Reyes, just in time." He said, getting up from his chair. "Please have a seat."

He indicated that she should take his chair, which she did. As she sat in front of the computer screen he continued to key in commands and file after file opened in front of her. She gaped at the information in front of her.

Zeus Genetics, it seemed, had links to the Surgeon General's Office, The Pentagon, The Department of The Interior, The Department of Defense, and The NSA, not to mention various quasi governmental organisations. The Government was involved, either officially or covertly. There was data going back at least to the early fifties in these files, and unlike what they all knew of the DAT tape that Mulder'd had access to, this data was written in plain English, with mathematical and scientific symbols to be sure, but still easily accessible to the ordinary person. This was definitely the 'mother-lode'.

"Can we get back up and hard copy of this?" She asked, hardly daring to hope that it might be possible.

"So far, apart from the initial hurdles we had to jump to get into the data, there have been no barriers to our retrieving, storing and printing. You can have as much hard copy as you like." Frohike told her.

"Got ya all the stuff we've downloaded so far." Langley said, waving a fat file in one hand. "Byers says there's a ton of stuff about gene pools and immunity programmes and something called 'purity' which seems to be the virus that has also been referred to as 'black cancer' and 'black oil'."

"That's what Agent Mulder was 'tested' for in Russia isn't it?" Monica asked. 'Where they were supposed to be testing a vaccine?"

"Yes." Byers replied. "So it looks as though the cover-up, as Mulder guessed, is global and not confined just to the USA."

"So the alien threat is real, and some part of our state apparatus is focused on finding a way to combat that threat," Monica concluded, "and we've go the evidence at last. The only question I have is, how does it help us? If the government knows about the threat and is working to address that, why the heck are they so busy trying to deny this and why go to all the effort to destroy Zeus Genetics?"

"That's the question Agent Mulder has been asking since Kenneth Soona dropped the MJ files on him." Langley said.

"The best we can figure it is that they have entered into some agreement with the aliens, that there is a split in the ranks and that has held up progress on producing a valid vaccine, or that Cold War rivalries got in the way. In any case it seems that Zeus Genetics was playing both sides at the same time. At least part of their research has been channelled to a private investor. Frankly it all looks a complete mess. There are still more questions than answers."

Frohike and Byers nodded in agreement at their colleague's assessment of the situation.

Monica sighed. It was a mess, but on the other hand it was a positive thing that they had some evidence of who was behind this project, even if it muddied the waters somewhat. She was beginning to understand the haunted and frustrated looks that Scully and Mulder wore as a testament to to the years of work they had put into fighting against this conspiracy. Just as she ws gathering up the hard copies that Langley had waved at her, the trill of her cell phone interrupted.

"Reyes!" She snapped into the handset.

"Monica." Doggett's voice answered "How's it going?"

"We hit pay dirt John," Monica replied, "though I'm not sure how much further it takes us. Mulder's guys are great. "

Doggett grunted in agreement.

"That's really why I was calling. We've got a data dump here that Mulder wants their help with. Let me speak to Byers."

Monica handed the 'phone to the neatly dapper man and waited.

Byers listened carefully as Doggett outlined the equipment Mulder had requested. It sounded as though there was a large amount of concrete evidence which needed hauling away as well as data in computers which required their ministrations. He agreed that they could be ready and on the road in less than an hour. Doggett said that Mulder insisted that they should not arrive until after dark. Having set the arrangements, Byers handed the 'phone back to Monica, he was already making a list of the things that they would need. Frohike and Langley eagerly joining in. Each one being detailed to kit out the mobile unit and the large truck ready for the forthcoming action.

Monica checked with her partner that all was in hand before she disconnected and went to join the Lone Gunmen.

"Doggett said we should move under cover of darkness." Byers said. "It will be dark in just under an hour, so be ready to roll by then. It's possible that we may have to be away from home for sometime so get what you need in the way of personal belongings, but remember we need to travel light."

"Sure thing mon Capitan." Frohike said, grinning as he left the room.

Despite the all too apparent possibility that they were headed into danger, all three men seemed to positively relish the idea of being involved, Monica thought. To look at the three of them, they seemed the most mismatched group in history - and yet they worked together as smoothly as a well oiled machine. She was beginning to realise that there was far more to the Lone Gunmen than met the eye. Of course they had to be more competent than they appeared, and protective camouflage was certainly very useful when you were involved in such clandestine operations as this one. She smiled inwardly in amusement at that as she followed the gnome like figure of Frohike out of the door.

Mulder stared at Samantha, trying to understand what she had said and failing. The film they had been watching was still playing over and over inside his head. The idea that his father was a man who abused others sexually was something he found hard to believe, and yet he had seen the evidence, it was irrefutable - as was the fact that his sister had just said 'how could he do that to his son?' His brain seemed to shudder to a halt as he tried to comprehend her meaning

"Dad never laid a finger on me," he said, confusedly "except to chastise me that is. Whatever makes you think that he did any of that to me?"

Samantha sighed.

"Not everything is about you Fox. I was not referring to you." She said.

"Then who?" Mulder asked. "Are you saying that Dad had other children?"

"You're a bright boy brother dear, or so they tell me, I'm sure you'll work it out eventually." She answered.

"In the meantime we need to be getting our act together." Doggett said. "Mulder's pals will be here soon and we need to be ready to leave here as soon as possible."

Mulder blinked. He felt thrown for a loop but as Doggett said, they needed to get their asses in gear. If they managed to figure out that this place held answers to their questions, then the opposition, or whoever Knowle Rohrer and his associates worked for, would also be able to figure it out. If they wanted to preserve the evidence for once - and escape to a place where they'd have some time to plan their next move, then it had to be done now. Plenty of time to work out Samantha's little riddle later. He nodded in acknowledgement and went to help Skinner load boxes with tapes and files whilst Doggett and Sam went to the central room and began accessing computer files in readiness for the gunman's arrival.

Dana Scully stared at her new son. Mulder was right she mused, he did bear more than a passing resemblance to A.D. Skinner. Which was not to say that he wasn't beautiful. He was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. She felt a lump in her throat as she watched his perfectly formed miniature fingers curl into a fist. No matter what, no matter how this miracle had come about, she knew that this was meant to be. Even if the consortium did have some involvement in William's conception, he was her son, not theirs. Besides, after Emily, they owed her a child. There was no way, no way on earth, that she would ever allow anyone to take her son from her. The intensity of her feelings overwhelmed her. She had never before felt so fiercely protective - even towards Mulder.

A slight tap on the door made her turn.

"Dana?" Mrs Scully peered around the door, her voice low in deference to the sleeping child.

"Mom. I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Scully said.

"Not at all sweetheart, I was awake anyhow. I just wondered if you needed anything? Would you like something to drink?"

She came into the room and looked over her daughter's shoulder at her sleeping grandson.

"Isn't he just the most adorable thing?" She said, a little sigh of contentment escaping her.

Scully nodded wordlessly. The lump in her throat had grown to the point where she could barely breathe, let alone speak. Suddenly, to her horror, she found herself sobbing uncontrollably.

"There, there sweetheart," Mrs Scully said soothingly, 'it's OK honey." She rubbed Scully's back gently, calming her. Finally, the crying fit over, a rueful Scully raised her face from her mother's shoulder.

"I'm sorry Mom." She said. "I don't know what's come over me. I just keep getting this feeling welling up inside me and it just takes over."

"It's OK Dana," her mother said, "it's not at all unusual to feel this way. I was exactly the same after each of you children were born. Apart from the hormones in your body, there seems to be an instinct to protect and it can be fairly awe inspiring - even frightening - to realise what a huge responsibility you've taken on."

Scully nodded tiredly in acceptance of this wisdom.

"Of course I had your father, at least some of the time, and then when he was at sea I had my mother to help me. I wish you would let me help you more Dana, you need someone you can rely on."

Scully smiled wanly and patted her mother on the shoulder.

"I know Mom, it's just difficult for me." She said.

She had in fact considered telling her mother everything. She did need someone to talk to, but in truth she wondered just how well Mrs Scully would cope it she knew just what kinds of fears she had regarding her son. She longed to tell her, and yet she felt that to burden her with the knowledge of the nature of the threat she felt, of the conspiracy , of the consortium, would be too much. Perhaps though, her mother deserved to know the truth, she had after all lost Melissa to the 'war' that Spender and his cohort had carried out to prevent 'the truth' from being known. As such her mother was already a victim, peripherally at least, of the consortium.

Scully was reminded of something she had learned from the Nuns at school. 'The truth shall set you free', they had said. She had always believed that it was true, so too had Mulder. And yet that incessant search for the truth had led them here, where lies and deceit were constant companions. Still though, her mother deserved to know the complicity of her daughter, how much she was responsible for, and how badly she felt that her family had been sacrificed to 'The Quest' she now shared with Mulder. The guilt she felt was beginning to eat her alive. Perhaps, she reflected, telling the truth would set her free. The old aphorism, 'a problem shared is a problem halved' might well hold true - even if the sharing added to that danger. In any case, she could no longer - in all good conscience - keep her mother in ignorance, and now was as good a time as any to make a clean breast of things.

"Let's go and make some tea," she said, "William should sleep a while longer and there are some things I need to tell you."

With a brief backward glance at the sleeping form of her son she ushered her mother out of the room and towards the kitchen.

end of chapter 14

Chapter 15

Thanks to Ursula for her sterling efforts to kill the type, above and beyond the call of duty. All remaining mistakes are mine. Thanks to those of you who have hung in there waiting, I appreciate your patience.

Feedback is welcomed at any time

sharonmarais@sam27.demon.co.uk

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