From: mrkeller829@gmail.com   
      
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   "Chermera" by Mary Ruth Keller Part 37  of 45   
   E-mail: mrkeller@eclipse.net, mrkeller829@gmail.com   
   PG-13   X-File: Myth-arc   Disclaimed in Part I   
   Already sent to Gossamer   
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   Unknown place   
   Unknown time   
      
   Dana Scully pulled in a deep breath, then opened her eyes. {This is the second   
   day.} Today, she knew, there would be some simulacrum of her school years, all   
   intended to bring her further into line. She checked her surroundings. This   
   was a different room    
   from the previous day. Gone was the bright conglomerate of colors. In their   
   place, were pink walls, salmon taffeta bows on the corners of the bed. The   
   pink lion with silver wings stared at her from down by her feet, the only part   
   of her 'bedroom' from    
   the previous day still in place. If she was being monitored, it was probably   
   by a camera inside. She lifted the covers, a normal sheet and blanket,   
   stubby-legged unicorn ponies leaping random rainbows on the threads. Her   
   forehead creased again. They    
   really had to do better than generic girl room, but, she should be thankful   
   they had so little knowledge of her tomboy childhood. She sat up, surprised to   
   see blonde bangs falling into her eyes. She reached up to feel her head, then   
   tug hard at the long    
   hair. Someone had glued a wig in place, ringlets of curls that were not her   
   own. She looked down. {Clothes, at least.} A little girl's navy blue sailor   
   uniform, with, she noted as she grunted, white knee socks in blue patent   
   leather shoes, a half-size    
   too small, cramping her toes. Someone, at least, was attempting to keep her   
   from running today.   
      
   {Today.} She felt her stomach rumble. Yesterday, she had not felt hungry, but,   
   today would be more of a challenge. Just in case she consumed something   
   hallucinogenic, she needed a marker of days. Her gaze fell on the patent   
   leather shoes, a sparkly gold    
   pin stuck through the outermost hole of the strap. That would do. She backed   
   the strap out, slid the shoe off, then drew two parallel lines on her left   
   forearm, deep enough to bleed slightly. Those would be marks that would heal,   
   but could not be washed    
   away.   
      
   {That would do.} She needed to leave behind some indication to her partner   
   that she knew he was coming. She shifted to her side, knocked the lion to the   
   floor with her sock-clad foot, then scratched several letters on the head of   
   the bed. Once finished,    
   she positioned the pillows neatly to cover them. She knew Mulder would tear   
   the room apart, that he would find them. She slipped the patent leather back   
   over her toes before buckling the strap.   
      
   There was a door at the end of the bedroom, so she padded over to it, noting   
   as she did the beach she could see through the barred windows. She was in a   
   different house, another story up. As with the shoes, whoever was running this   
   was making it more    
   difficult for her to escape. She could also hear feet approaching, so, if this   
   room was a bathroom, best to take care of necessities, consume some water now.   
   She turned the faceted crystal knob, then gave it a push. It was indeed a   
   bathroom, decorated    
   with sparkles, so, with a grimace, she relieved and cleaned herself and drank.   
      
   "Don't want to be late for school, little sweetness!" It was the same matronly   
   voice as before, with a hint of panic underneath. If Krycek was in charge, no   
   doubt he had raged at them all for several hours for yesterday's failure.   
      
   Scully had to refrain from calling back. {Neither positive nor negative,   
   remember.} She wiped her hands, then, with a carefully neutral expression,   
   waited in front of the door.   
      
   The 'Matron' entered. She was in a grey skirted suit and sensible black shoes,   
   not carrying food. They had obviously learned that lesson as well. "Ah, there   
   you are. All ready and pretty, my dear." The woman's blue eyes scanned the   
   room. "But, look, you    
   forgot to make up your bed. Let me do that."     
      
   {They can't see my message.} The diminutive agent stepped into the older   
   woman's path, then offered her a tiny smile, before starting to smooth down   
   the covers. As she plumped the bolsters before tucking them under the spread,   
   she checked the waiting    
   woman out of the corner of her eye. The lined face was cocked to the left,   
   puzzlement written on her features. The bed finished, the lion perched in the   
   depression between pillows, Scully returned to the 'Matron''s side.   
      
   "Ah. Very good, my dear." The comment was offered without inflection.   
      
   Scully considered skipping along beside her, but, that would be too much. They   
   walked together down two flights of stairs. The main level was an open, high   
   space, where four rows of four old-fashioned wooden school desks stood. All   
   but the left desk in    
   the front was occupied, so Scully took it. There were notepads and four yellow   
   pencils lined up on the dark oak surface. As she looked up, a different older   
   woman stood at a wheeled chalkboard, rows of single-variable polynomials   
   written out, all first    
   and second order. {Really?} She reminded herself not to gloat that this was   
   almost too easy. There must be more than algebra to the game.   
      
   The tall, thin 'Teacher' was glaring down a long, bony nose that had   
   half-spectacles perched on it. Dressed in a severe tweed skirted suit, she   
   held a wooden pointer that she rapped on the blackboard chalk tray three   
   times. "One problem for each student,    
   starting with you." The 'Teacher' aimed the plastic-capped tip at the right   
   rear seat. "Solve number one, using your pad, then tell me the answer."   
      
   Scully solved the equation in her head as she waited.   
      
   "X equals twelve." The speaker was in a grey robe, the cowl pulled over the   
   face, but the voice was unmistakably male.   
      
   "Very good!" The 'Teacher' rewarded the 'student' with a smile and a cheerful   
   chirp.   
      
   Scully's forehead wrinkled. The answer was eleven, obvious since the equation   
   was 2x=22.   
      
   Noting her expression, the 'Teacher' issued a nasal humph.   
      
   Scully schooled her face to a mask.   
      
   The other students all offered erroneous solutions to their problems, each   
   being rewarded with praise, until it was Scully's turn. She had been   
   considering her options. No doubt, this was a rudimentary attempt at applying   
   peer pressure. She decided it    
   was time to test her keepers. She stood, walked to the chalkboard, picked up a   
   yellow cylinder, then wrote down "x = -2" on the blackboard. Since the   
   second-order polynomial was x2 + 4x + 4 = 0, both roots were the same value.   
   She finished by    
   substituting the solution to show the equation balanced.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)