From: mrkeller829@gmail.com   
      
   =====o=======================================o=====   
   "Chermera" by Mary Ruth Keller Part 06  of 45   
   E-mail: mrkeller@eclipse.net, mrkeller829@gmail.com   
   PG-13   X-File: Myth-arc   Disclaimed in Part I   
   Already sent to Gossamer   
   =====o=======================================o=====   
      
   Chapter II – Many Happy Returns    
      
   -----o---------------------------------------o-----   
      
   Colonel:      The Tally-Ho.   
   The Prisoner: A daily issue.   
   Colonel:      Morning or evening?   
   The Prisoner: Daily at noon.   
   Colonel:      (reading) What are facts behind    
                 Town Hall. (looks up) Town Hall?   
   The Prisoner: That's right.   
   Thorpe:       Town Council?   
   The Prisoner: Correct.   
   Thorpe:       Were you a member?   
   The Prisoner: I could have been. It's democratically    
                 elected, once a year.   
   Colonel:      Democratically?   
   The Prisoner: That's what they claim.   
   Thorpe:       And they're all numbers? No names?    
                 No names at all?   
   The Prisoner: Just numbers.   
   Colonel:      I see.   
   The Prisoner: Numbers in a Village that is a complete    
                 unit of our own society. A place to put    
                 people who can't be kept around.   
      
                                                                                     
                         "Many Happy Returns"   
      
   -----o----------------------------------------o-----   
      
   Abel's Hill Cemetery   
   Chilmark, MA   
   Thursday, June 4, 1998   
   6:01 pm   
      
   Fox Mulder ran his hand through his hair. "Well, Scully, looks like we're   
   spending the night at the Hook and Whale." He turned to her. "What?"   
      
   She had cocked her head. "Before we do, Mulder, let's take a drive to your   
   Mom's old house. We have a bit of time to explore."   
      
   Staring down at the grass, he frowned at the tiny heads of white clover he saw   
   there, then sighed. "Yeah. Not like Dad's going anywhere."   
      
   The auburn-haired pathologist's fingers brushed his elbow. "Mulder, if this is   
   too much..."   
      
   He held his arm out toward the Toyota. "After you, G-woman."   
      
   --o-0-o--   
      
   Chilmark, MA   
   Thursday, 6:43 pm   
      
   "I expected it to still be a ruin, Mulder."   
      
   The partners exchanged a glance.   
      
   The tall agent had bitten down on the corner of his lip as his gaze skittered   
   over the structures in front of them. "In a way, I'm glad it's not."   
      
   The lot where Caroline's house had once stood was occupied yet again, with a   
   larger multi-storied Cape Cod, all new construction, the lawns green, the   
   boards freshly white-washed. A middle-aged man in a t-shirt with paint of   
   various colors dribbled down    
   one shoulder, grey sweats, and work boots was trimming the yew bushes along a   
   split-rail fence. As the Toyota pulled onto the brick driveway, the man in the   
   yard stopped, taking a moment to rub his forehead under the crown of a frayed   
   straw hat.   
      
   Scully slipped out first, holding up her badge while introducing herself and   
   her partner.   
      
   The man placed the clippers on top of the dense foliage. "Thomas Johns." He   
   extended his hand to each of them, before turning to the tall agent. "Your   
   last name?"   
      
   Dark eyebrows drew together. "Yes?"   
      
   The straw hat now resting on the hedge, thin fingers were pulled through   
   still-thick sun-bleached hair. "Are you a relation to the folks who lived here   
   before?"   
      
   Scully glanced up to check her partner's hazel eyes. They were clear, so she   
   waited, alert, but giving him space to address their witness as he chose.   
      
   "I grew up here." The words were soft, non-committal.   
      
   Johns was chuckling. "I'll have to tell Ella she picked the wrong day to head   
   to Hyannis to do a bit of shopping." He waved at the residence behind him.   
   "She's hooked on the history of these places. She'd have loved to have shown   
   you around, to have    
   gotten your memories of the house that was here."   
      
   Scully edged in front of her partner, brushing her arm against his elbow.   
   "Sir, when you were building this house, did you find anything, *unusual*,   
   when you excavated?"     
      
   Now, the older man broke into a broad grin. "Did we ever!"   
      
   The dark-haired man leaned over his partner's shoulder. "Oh?"   
      
   Johns was trotting toward the gate to the back yard. "There was a bricked-in   
   room, down in the basement, with metal crates." He turned to wave them   
   through. "We've kept the crates, just in case someone like you came along." He   
   pointed toward a grey shed    
   at the farthest corner of the wooded yard. "They were all padlocked." The   
   blond man chuckled again. "Ella is going to hate me, but..." A creak of   
   springs, then the three were inside the dim space.   
      
   Scully knelt by the neatly stacked boxes before lifting a pen-light from her   
   pocket to aim it at one of the containers. She tapped the front of the   
   nearest, then moved the small beam closer. There was a rising sun symbol   
   behind the body of the lock.   
      
   The sun-tanned man was laughing outright now. "You people from the Bureau! I   
   see your reputations are well-earned."   
      
   His fists on his hips, Mulder bent over him. "There were other agents here?"   
      
   The auburn-haired pathologist rose to walk over to the two men. "When, Sir?   
   This may be important for an on-going investigation."   
      
   Johns frowned. "Oh, shortly after we found the bricked-in room. We couldn't   
   help but think, Ella and I, that he was too young to be a real agent of the   
   FBI, but, he had a badge, just like yours."   
      
   A gleam sparked in the Hunter's eyes. "You wouldn't happen to remember this   
   agent's name, would you, Sir?"   
      
   The older man crossed his arms. "Allen, Albert, um..."   
      
   "Alex?" The tenor was hoarse with anticipation.   
      
   Johns nodded. "Never heard a last name like his before."   
      
   The partners exchanged a glance before Scully spoke the surname on both their   
   minds. "Krycek?"   
      
   A snap of fingers was followed by a quick grin. "Yeah, that was it."   
      
   The ginger-haired pathologist bobbed her head toward the crates. "Would you   
   have a cart or a hand-truck, Sir?"   
      
   Johns pushed the door open. "I'll be right back."   
      
   When wood slapped against the frame, the agents shifted close to each other,   
   Mulder leaning down to his partner's ear. "Scully, I never expected to find   
   anything."   
      
   She tipped her head back to meet his eager gaze. "Mulder, this was too easy."   
   She pointed toward the crates. "We should take these, certainly, but we will   
   have to review the contents with great care. Neither that gate nor this shed   
   has a lock, and the    
   trees block the view from the house. Anyone could have come in here at any   
   time, to add or remove a box. "   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)