The X-Files Episode 12x14: Adam (Part One)
This latest fan fiction feels like the longest and most ambitious ever. It probably needs cleaning up, like all my others, and I think near the end, I was just trying to finish it, as it was taking me so long, so I'm certain I rushed some of the scenes. Hopefully its coherent - it's my sequel to the episode "Eve", just because it seemed that it should have happened.
Episode 12x14: Adam
“Welcome to another episode of Mr. and Mrs.” boomed the voice-over, “with your host-Tad O’Malley”.
Tad O'Malley had managed to get a job - any job really would suit him. Hosting a game show wasn’t his idea of a great time, but it paid the bills.
“Thank you, thank you” O’Malley shouted, as the crowd applauded, and then waited for the clapping to fade away, aided by the cues given by the man standing to one side holding the “APPLAUSE” sign.
“It’s time once again”, he gushed; “to find out who has the most perfect marriage. Hopefully better than the one I had to my wife; she left me for a priest. I wouldn’t have minded, but he was the one officiating at our wedding”.
It was a poor attempt at humour, and O’Malley was sweating. However, the man at the side held up a sign telling the audience to laugh, and they did exactly that.
“So”, O’Malley continued, pleased not to have just died on stage; “let’s meet our contestants. First up are Betty and Barney van Dijk”.
On cue, a booth was trundled onto the set containing a young couple; they both gave forced smiles to the camera. The camera operator looked bored, and was bored; he’d watched two recordings already that afternoon.
“Really?”, Tad asked; “Betty and Barney?”
“People make comments like that all the time” Betty said, through her forced grin; “they always ask about our neighbours Fred and Wilma”.
“We don’t fancy calling a kid Bamm Bamm though”, Barney continued.
“So, what do you both do for a living?”, O’Malley asked, through a forced grin.
“I’m an architect” replied Betty.
“And I’m a firefighter”, added Barney.
“So she designs the buildings, and you prevent them from going up in smoke?”, Tad asked.
Before either could answer, Tad continued: “Let’s meet our next couple: Ross and Rachel Warner. Wow, really? Where are we getting these couples from?”
The next couple appeared; they were also young. She had long blonde hair; he was bearded and bespectacled, and their smiles looked even more fake than Betty and Barneys’.
“Now, what do both of you do for a living?”, O’Malley asked, beginning to wish his autocue would give him something more exciting to say.
“I’m a paediatrician” said Barney.
“I’m a gynaecologist”, added Betty; “we’ve been in employment for many years at our local sanitarium, and that’s where we made each others’ acquaintance”. O’Malley was intrigued by her fancy word usage; it was like she was trying to show off.
“She impressed me by telling me all about what a colposcope does” Barney laughed.
“Is this something you can explain on a family show?”, O’Malley asked.
“Unquestionably not”, Barney replied.
As O’Malley’s producer talked into his ear to get things moving, he sighed: “Well, let’s start the show”.
XXXXX
Some time into the recording, and after a number of bathroom breaks and pauses to re-touch makeup, the show reached the “how well do you know each other?” round.
Betty and Barney were ushered backstage where they couldn’t see the questions that their opponents would get. They would be asked them eventually, and were going to have no opportunity to agree on what answers they would give. The point was that one needed to know all about their spouse.
As Ross was placed into a soundproof booth, O’Malley smiled at Rachel. “Don’t worry”, he said; “all you’ve got to lose is each others’ respect”.
He looked at Ross, who slipped his glasses off and put them in his pocket, as a big pair of headphones was placed over his head. He definitely wasn’t going to hear a thing.
“I’ll check he can’t hear you” said O’Malley; “hey, Ross, Rachel and I are just off on a date”.
Ross just looked down at the floor; he was evidently enjoying the 80s music that he was hearing.
“So, Rachel” said O’Malley; “I take it you had a first date, but can you remember what Ross ate?”
“A burger and fries” replied Rachel; “we went to Lucky Boy; he told me after that he thought one of their employees was a cannibal”.
O’Malley blushed; that joke probably wouldn’t make the final edit.
“Also, what was the first thing he said to you?”
“I believe he said: ‘Have you seen a pen lying around here?’”
“He sounds really romantic”, O’Malley laughed, which got an amused reaction from the audience, who didn’t even need prompting this time.
“What would you say is Ross’ pet peeve?”, O’Malley continued.
“Definitely when I converse with my mouth full”, laughed Rachel; “he becomes incandescent”.
“Also, what would Ross’ dream vacation be?”
“He would love to go to Vegas” said Rachel; “he’s speculated about it for a very long time”.
“Wants to win big bucks, I guess”, O’Malley smiled.
“He’s always been a big dreamer”, Rachel laughed.
“Finally, who is his celebrity crush?”
“Emilia Clarke” Rachel laughed; “the Mother of Dragons herself”.
“Same questions for you”, O’Malley replied; “what was the first thing you said to Ross? In response to the pen thing I guess”.
“I told him - pens can’t talk, so how can this one be fabricating the truth?”
The audience took a few moments to process the joke, and there was delayed laughter.
“My pet peeve is when he leaves the lavatory seat suspended”.
“You mean he leaves it up?”, O’Malley asked.
“In simplistic terms, affirmative; and my dream vacation would be to China, which is 21,196 kilometres in length. I’d love to perambulate along at least part of it”, said Rachel; “and my celebrity crush is definitely Hugh Jackman”.
“Well” said O’Malley; “time to bring back Ross, and see if his answers match yours”.
The headphones were taken off Ross, and O’Malley joked: “Yes, your wife has just accepted this timeshare from me”.
Ross chuckled.
“Do you think you could have lip-read us with your glasses on?”, O’Malley asked jokingly; “you know, like HAL on 2001?”
Ross put his arm around O’Malley’s waist: “I don’t need to lip read to know what my wife is thinking”. He winked at Rachel, as he did so.
“I asked Rachel where you had your first date”, said O’Malley.
Ross pulled his glasses out of his pocket, and fiddled with them as he thought about his answer.
“We went to a burger bar - Lucky Boy” he said decisively, cleaning his glasses on his shirt, and then putting them back on.
“Can you tell me what the first thing you said to Rachel was?”
Ross laughed, seemingly amused by the memory: “Have you seen a pen lying around here?”
“No, I haven’t”, O’Malley joked; “oh, that’s your answer? Now, what is your pet peeve?”
“I hate it when Rachel masticates with her countenance full” replied Ross.
Rachel had been spot on so far.
“How about your dream holiday?”
“Las Vegas, Nevada, baby!” shouted Ross, firing pretend guns into the air.
“Also, your celebrity crush? Hopefully Rachel won’t be too jealous”.
“I remember getting really into Game of Thrones” replied Ross, “and I am enamoured with Emilia Clarke. Danaerys Targaryen”.
“Now, do you remember what Rachel said in reply to your comment about the pen?”
Ross looked at Rachel, who was smiling; she was clearly happy at the apparent psychic bond that they shared with each other. Maybe they really could speak telepathically, the audience was almost certainly wondering.
“She said” Ross tried hard not to laugh; “pens can’t talk, so how can this one be fabricating the truth. She had me hook, line and sinker after that. Also, she hates it when I leave the lid up on the toilet, wants to do a pilgrimage to China, and she is obsessed with Hugh Jackman”.
The audience started cheering before the sign prompting them to do so was lit up. Ross and Rachel high-fived, and then started hugging each other.
“Well, didn’t they do amazingly”, said O’Malley, as Ross and Rachel were ushered off, “but now to catch up with our other friends, Betty and Barney”.
Betty and Barney were in a sound booth just behind the stage, and all the crew needed to do was open a door at the back, and they would appear, and then walk back out.
“Let’s give them a big hand”, said O’Malley, as the door began to open, and the audience began to cheer.
Moments later, the cheers began to fade, more abruptly than usual. The audience were all looking aghast at what O’Malley was also looking at.
One of the cameramen vomited as his camera focused on Betty and Barney; blood dripped down their fronts, and on to the floor in front of them. Broken glass lay at their feet, and a pool of water was mingling with the couple’s blood.
The blood was coming from their slit throats.
Both of them were very much dead.
O’Malley fought the urge to retch, and then turned to the camera, shouting:
“CUT!”
XXXXX
NEVADA DESERT
11:21AM
Yves-Adele Harlow started at her watch, and then at the piece of paper she had been given, with a note on it: “COME ALONE”.
Whatever source she was about to meet did not want to meet Jimmy or Kimmy, and to be honest, she understood why.
Her contact was late though, and Yves did not like being stood up. This was a lot of valuable time wasted.
Five minutes later, a car finally pulled up, and its occupant got out. Yves sighed in disappointment; she might have guessed that her contact would turn out to be the man who stood before her.
“You”, she muttered.
“Is that all you have to say to your old man?”, Morris Fletcher asked, with his arms open; “what about a hug?”
“I don’t do hugs”, Yves muttered; “so, you’ve decided to betray your MIB pals again? Have you got anything useful for the Lone Gunmen newsletter?”
“Oh, you misunderstand”, Morris replied; “this is nothing to do with your newsletter?”
“You’re not even here to say that you’ll tell your cigarette smoking friend about us if we don’t shut the magazine down? Carl Gerhardt Busch Spender - yes, I know his real name”.
“Relax, Lois”, Morris laughed; “you seem so suspicious”.
“It’s Yves now”, she snapped.
“Okay, Yves if you insist”, sighed Morris; “I felt it was about time we did a little father-daughter bonding, and took a little road trip”.
Yves inwardly groaned; it seemed like she didn’t have much of a choice.
XXXXX
“So” said Scully, “you say that none of the crew were aware that Mr. and Mrs. … Van Dijk were being murdered under your very nose”.
This certainly was a strange second meeting for the agents and Tad O’Malley, reduced to hosting a game show rather than his conspiracy theory programme.
“It’s almost like someone took the phrase ‘dying on stage’ literally, Mulder quipped, before making an effort to take the job more seriously.
“I understand a member of staff was meant to take glasses of water to them backstage” O’Malley explained; he was still shaken up, the day after the incident.
“So, presumably the Van Dijks were still alive at that point”, Scully reasoned, since nobody raised the alarm”.
“I take it nobody else entered the room?”, Mulder asked.
“Security reported the crew member entering and leaving the room”, O’Malley continued; “nobody else went in or out”.
“Well, maybe we could find out which crew member it was, and speak to them”, Scully suggested; “ask if they saw anything out of the ordinary”.
“I can’t even remember who it would have been”, said O’Malley; “I think we can bring up the security footage”.
Mulder and Scully were ushered into a room containing security videos, and O’Malley played a recording taken while the incident occurred. A woman with red hair tucked under a baseball cap was seen entering the room with glasses of water, and then leaving about ten seconds after. A security guard was visible, but his face was indistinct. Colour CCTV was a rare novelty.
“I guess we could ask around, and see if anyone recognizes her”, O’Malley suggested.
“Maybe someone could speak to the security guard, too”, Scully added; “it seems that he should have heard something. Did get his name, or see what he looked like?”
“I’m not too good with names” replied O’Malley, “bald head; soul patch beard, and glasses. Must have been about fifty; I can ask the security team to see if anyone matches that description”.
“What happened with the other contestants?”, Mulder enquired.
“We settled the incident quietly”, O’Malley replied; “to avoid being sued by mental trauma caused by the incident, we offered them a large sum of compensation. It was also partly because the show had to be shut down, and they wouldn’t be able to compete for the prize winnings”.
“If you’ll excuse me”, Mulder added; “restroom”.
Scully glanced at him as he left; she suspected he was going anywhere but the john.
XXXXX
Jackson still wasn’t sure who the mysterious older woman was; all he was sure about was that she’d helped him get out of prison back in Louisiana.
He flashed back in his head to the moment when she had appeared, wearing the uniform of a prison guard. She had been heavily disguised as a male officer; well enough to fool Jackson.
“I’m here to get you out”, she had whispered in his ear; “I know all about your abilities. Between you and me, the Governor is temporarily indisposed, so if you want to get out of here easily, you just need to pretend you’re him”.
She had carefully picked Jackson’s handcuffs, and they had slowly walked down the corridor, in silence. Guards had passed, but thanks to Jackson’s ability to fool the mind, they had seen him as Governor Blake. Rather than Jackson’s pasty appearance, they had seen Blake’s rotund physique, and his Colonel Sanders-like appearance.
He looked up at his saviour, and remembered her words: “Officially, my name is Eve 8. You can call me Sally, after the woman who created me. Sally Kendrick”.
A young man also sat in the room with them; he smiled nervously at Jackson, who returned his gesture with a thumbs up. Edward was his name, Jackson remembered, or Eddie for short.
Also known as ‘Adam 10’, apparently.
The two younger Eves put him in mind of the twin girls from The Shining; he felt like he had a crush on them. Despite being in their thirties, they still talked like a pair of giggling schoolkids.
“Come, play with us, Jackson”, he could imagine them saying.
“We met your Mum”, Teena told Jackson; “and your half-brother”.
“Agents Scully and Mulder” added Cindy; “let’s just say we spent some time together, played a childhood prank on them with their soda”.
“Want to know how we know all about you?”, Tenna laughed.
“Because you just knew?”, Jackson asked; “that’s all I keep hearing around here”.
“We Googled it”, replied Cindy; “it’s amazing what gets out there on the Dark Web”.
“You did realise your real father is a guy who is addicted to smoking, and breathes through a hole in his neck?”, Teena added.
“He shot me”, Jackson replied.
“You’re just as hard to kill as he is”, Cindy laughed; she patted his cheek; “you’re just like Fox Mulder.”
Eve 8 smiled at her companions: “It seems that phase one of our plan is complete. Also, we may have ruined Tad O’Malley’s career for good”.
XXXXX
“I knew you didn’t get enough to eat, but this is getting ridiculous”.
Scully surprised Mulder as he peered into a dumpster outside the recording studios.
“Dumpster diving, Mulder? Really? I’m sure they have an in-house canteen”.
“Oh, there is method in my madness, Scully; there usually is”, Mulder grinned; “let me guess…”
“I know what you’re going to say, Mulder”, Scully replied; “and you’re correct; nobody recognized our mysterious stranger.
“I thought as much”, Mulder replied, pulling out a redhead wig and baseball cap, much like the one the woman had worn on the security footage.
Scully looked incredulous; “Mulder…” she began.
“It’s okay”, Mulder added, showing Scully that he was indeed wearing rubber gloves; “now, it would be good to see what the other couple looked like”.
From the same dumpster, he pulled out a blonde wig, a fake beard, and a pair of glasses that probably had no prescription.
“Some people are masters of disguise”, added Mulder, “but not masters of hiding the evidence”.
“I’m surprised you didn’t find a murder weapon in there”, Scully muttered.
“Well” Mulder smiled; “since you gave me a lead-in, I did find this”.
From his pocket, he pulled out an evidence bag containing a bloodstained knife. It was large, and had a serrated edge.
“Alakazam, Scully!” are you satisfied?
“I’m surprised you never went on American Pickers, Mulder”.
XXXXX
WASHINGTON, DC
“So, Mulder, what I don’t get is why we’re still involved in this case? Are we doing this as a favour for Tad O’Malley, because as far as I can tell, this is not an X-Files”.
Scully and Mulder were walking through the bustling streets of DC the following afternoon. The main reason for the crowds was the fact that there was a Washington Nationals baseball game on. Scully had seen several groups of young men walking past, in high spirits. Most of them had been dressed identically, in their team’s shirt, and with their baseball caps, bills facing back-to-front.
It was almost like an attack of the clones, all of the fans seemed almost identical to each other.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise too soon, Scully”, Mulder said, cryptically.
“All the same, Mulder” replied Scully; “I think we should be leaving this to the F.B.I.’s violent crimes division”.
It was at that point that Mulder’s phone rang.
Glancing at it, he told Scully: “That was good timing; looks like a friend of ours wants to facetime with us”.
Scully looked confused; as Mulder accepted the call, he added: “I’ve been outsourcing our work to some willing volunteers”.
As Scully looked, Agent Miller appeared on screen; he adjusted the frame to show his partner Agent Einstein beside him.
“So, what did you find out for us?”, Mulder asked.
“We passed that knife on to the lab”, Miller replied; “and they came back with the results”.
“You’re really getting these two to do errands for you?”, Scully asked.
“Don’t worry, Agent Scully” said Einstein; “we’ve enjoyed it really. The lab also confirmed that the blood on the knife belonged to both of the victims”.
“They also found something else”, Miller added; “traces of digitalis”.
“Like what you get in foxgloves”, Einstein added.
Scully knew all about digitalis: “Sounds like somebody really wanted to make sure both victims died”, she added; “I’ve known of people to survive having their throats slit, but the digitalis would have killed them very quickly”.
“You’ve been a great help”, Mulder smiled.
“Oh, and one more thing”, Miller added; “I’ve not congratulated you yet on your engagement”.
“Thanks” Scully replied.
“Yes, hoping all the best for you both”, Einstein added; “see you both soon”.
As Mulder hung up the phone, he told Scully: “You never know, those two may be running the X-Files one day”.
“Sounds like you’re serious about finding someone to take over”, Scully smiled; “I’m surprised you didn’t send out five golden tickets”.
“So, how about this latest news?”, Mulder asked; “you and I haven’t met many people who used digitalis on their victims”.
Scully looked at Mulder; she remembered of course. Many years ago, the young Cindy Reardon and Teena Simmons had attempted to poison Mulder and Scullys’ drinks using digitalis. The fact that they had spilled a few drops in the process had alerted Mulder, and he had made sure they didn’t manage to take a lethal dose.
“Danny confirmed to me that all three Eves went missing from the prison they were confined to”, Mulder added; “they appear to have been in hiding for some time, but now it would appear that they are back”.
“So, the other contestants”, Scully asked; “you think they were both Eves in disguise”.
“More likely one of them was an Adam, their male counterpart”, Mulder explained; “it would appear that more of them are out their than our Deep Throat previously believed”.
“So, let me guess; the woman who bought the victims their water - and killed them - she was another Eve in disguise”, Scully added.
“Exactly” replied Mulder, noticing Skinner up ahead in his wheelchair. He was outside the coffee shop where they had arranged to meet. The sign on the top identified it as “WYNDHAM’S”.
Handily, there was a ramp to help Skinner get into the café, as they headed in, and sat down at a free table.
“Something tells me that this isn’t just a social engagement” muttered Skinner; “but I like to make myself useful. Forced retirement isn’t exactly a barrel of laughs”.
Mulder and Scully noticed Skinner staring at the empty chair at their table.
Seen only by him, Skinner’s own Harvey, Alex Krycek, grinned menacingly back at him.
“Walter, what did I tell you?” said Krycek; “Fox Mulder uses everyone”.
“Shut up”, Skinner muttered.
“Sir?”, Scully asked.
“Never mind”, said Skinner; “what do you need from me this time?”
Mulder pointed to the waitress coming through the restaurant, pushing a trolley.
To Scully, the moment really was like seeing Kathy Bates in the final scene of Misery. The last time Scully had seen the waitress, she had been locked up securely in a prison cell, with no chance of any release. Strangely, she looked less crazy than she had before; perhaps she was on heavy medication.
“Are you ready to order?”, asked Eve 6, holding out her notebook and pen. Scully noticed that her name badge identified her as “Barbara Shelley”.
XXXXX
NEVADA
The diner was called SHAFFNER’S. Yves didn’t care much for the name.
A young waitress bought two stacks of pancakes over to the booth that Yves and Morris were sitting at. Yves watched as her father squirted about half a tube of maple syrup over his pancakes, but didn’t say anything.
“So, Lois” said Morris; “what are you thinking of? You’ve not said anything much so far. Are you avoiding our little road trip?”
“What should I be saying?”, Yves replied; “should I be proud of what my father does for a living? Should I be happy that he had a one-night stand with my mother, and then disappeared from my life for all those years?”
“Hey”, Morris replied; “I didn’t even realise that she was pregnant; I didn’t know about you for a long time”.
“How convenient”, Yves muttered.
“Anyhow, maybe there’s somewhere we could go”, Morris added; “I could show you the location of the Black Mailbox. I’ll let you into a secret…”
He whispered into Yves’ ear: “There is no Black Mailbox”.
Yves groaned; she was tired of her father’s jokes.
“Maybe we could go to Vegas”, she said; “my late friends John, Melvin and Ringo said they saw you there with your buddies. Wasn’t it just after you left your wife? You know, Joanne, the one who you apparently wanted to make things work with?”
“How did you…?”, Morris asked.
“You forget, I’m a hacker”, Yves added; “I have ways of knowing these things”.
“Joanne and I had, let’s say a … conscious uncoupling”, Morris replied; “we still speak to each other, we just aren’t married any more”.
“Oh, and one other thing”, Yves added; “her son and daughter. My half-brother and half-sister”.
Morris chuckled: “Chris and Terry - I mean Terence - what about them?”
“How come you’ve never introduced me to them?”
“I’ll have more coffee please”, Morris called to the waitress.
“See” said Yves, and the waitress turned to the coffee machine; “you’re avoiding the subject”.
“What do you mean?”, Morris asked.
“As soon as I mention never having met Chris and Terence, you change the subject.
“Now, you’re just imagining things”, Morris laughed; “anyway, I gotta use the john”.
As Yves fumed, Morris left the table. The waitress came over with a pot of coffee, and started refilling Morris’ cup.
“I dated a man older than me once, Honey” she said; “it didn’t work out”.
Morris spotted the cleaning sign outside the restroom, and the male janitor coming out.
“You doing well, Gary?” he asked.
Gary was a similar age to Morris, and he seemed like he’d be stuck in this menial job forever.
“Never better, Mr. Fletcher”.
“Isn’t it good to be a helpful member of our society?”, Morris whispered; “much better than being a murderer, isn’t that right - Adam 6?”
Gary looked confused: “I just go by the name Gary now, Mr. Fletcher”.
“Indeed”, Morris chuckled.
He stepped into the restroom, and relieved himself, while whistling “The Star-Stangled Banner”. As he washed his hands, the restroom door flung open, revealing Yves.
“Yes, Lois? Morris asked, calmly, “can you give me a moment?”
“I’ll give you a moment” replied Yves; “and then we are going to meet Chris and Terence”.
XXXXX
WASHINGTON, DC
“So, Sir - Walter”, Mulder whispered; “Eve 6 - Barbara - has met us before. We’re not sure if she’d open up to us”.
“You’re getting me to interrogate her on your behalf?”, Skinner asked; “well, it would take me back to my old days as a junior F.B.I. Agent. What would you like me to ask?”
“Maybe we should mention the late Doctor Sally Kendrick”, Scully suggested.
“Would she know about her?”, Skinner asked, confused.
“The thing is about the Eves” Mulder whispered is, “they just know these things. It’s like telepathy or something”.
“I don’t really believe in any of this telepathy stuff any more than Agent Scully does”, replied Skinner, “but I’ll see what I can do”.
Mulder’s phone rang as he and Scully got up to leave.
“Fox Mulder”, he said, as he began to walk out.
“Mulder” said Tad O’Malley, from the other end; “this keeps on getting weirder and weirder. So, I’m not too familiar with the security at the studios, but I gave a description of the security guard who ushered in our murder suspect”.
“Did you get a name?”, Mulder asked.
“I was told my description sounded like Manning Wilson”, O’Malley replied, but here’s the thing; “Wilson died a week before the recording, in a car accident. The head of security showed me a photo of him, and I swear it was him who I spoke to that day, unless this is the Mandela effect or something”.
“Thanks” said Mulder, a little stunned; “I’ll speak to you soon”.
“So” he said to Scully; “apparently a dead man was working for the security team at the TV studios. Now, do you think it’s an X-File?”
XXXXX
Sally - as she called herself - walked into the room carrying what appeared to be architect’s plans for a large building.
“Amazing what a little computer hacking can do”, she smiled.
“I still don’t understand what I have to do with this”, Jackson protested; “you had me convince Tad O’Malley that I was a security guard; so what?”
“The fool didn’t even realise the man was dead”, Teena smirked.
“As we all knew”, added Cindy.
“That’s enough, girls - ladies” replied Sally; “this is the plan of a top-secret facility near to Washington, DC, where our first target is located. Apparently Fox Mulder has broken into this place, so I think we should manage with no problems”.
“You need me to get into there?”, Jackson asked.
Sally held up a picture of a stern-looking man in military uniform: “This is Sergeant Allen Chambers; you need to convince the other officials there that you are him, and that you’ve arrested us. You should also deter any of them from offering you assistance, but if they do, we are ready to take measures to neutralize them”.
“Okay”, Jackson replied; “but how do you propose we deal with the real Sergeant Chambers, if he shows up?”
“We have someone onto it right now”, Tenna laughed.
“We just know he’s getting the job done”, added Cindy.
XXXXX
PECK’S BAR
WASHINGTON, DC
The younger man stroked Sergeant Chambers’ knee affectionately. He sipped his long island iced tea slowly; it tasted a little sweeter than usual. He thought nothing of it.
He just liked the fact that he had been offered a drink by a man like this. He had spent much of his life picking up rent boys behind his wife’s back, unable to admit to his own homosexuality. The man’s face was half-hidden by the bill of his baseball cap, but Chambers already liked what he saw.
The stranger whispered in his ear: “I’m going into the John; first stall that you come to. Wait one minute, and then follow me”.
Chambers’ hand began to shake as the man walked into the restroom.
As he entered the restroom, he noticed with relief that it was empty. He stripped down to his boxer shorts, and threw his outer garments, and his cap and shoes, out of the window. He’d been fed up with that t-shirt anyway; far too tight. He knew that there was a conveniently-placed dumpster right outside the window, where the evidence would soon be taken away.
He stepped into the stall, and waited.
As Chambers got up, his shaking was getting worse; maybe it was just nerves, he told himself.
“Are you okay, Sir?” a waitress asked.
“Perfectly fine, Miss”, he replied, as he stagged towards the restroom; “mind your own business”.
He opened the stall door to look his mystery admirer in the face.
“There’s … there’s something familiar about you” he said.
His shaking was now uncontrollable, and he started foaming at the mouth as he collapsed to the floor.
“I forgot to tell you my name” said the stranger, Sergeant Chambers’ life slowly faded; “Adam … Adam 9”.
He smiled as Sergeant Chambers finally expired. He pulled out the vial of quick dissolving acid from inside his sock, and poured it over the dead man’s face. He was careful not to get the stuff on his own skin.
A few minutes later, a figure in military dress left the restroom, and quickly exited the bar without drawing too much attention to himself.
Adam 9 smiled to himself; Sergeant Chambers’ uniform fitted him snugly. It had been unfortunate that the man had to die, but he had been a good physical match to both Adam 9, and Jackson Van de Kamp.
Five minutes later, another bar patron found an almost naked, and now faceless, body of Sergeant Chambers, in the stall. He immediately leaned over the toilet bowl, and vomited.
XXXXX
REFLECTING POOL
WASHINGTON, DC
Skinner wheeled himself over to the bench where Mulder and Scully sat, and pulled himself on to the bench. He felt like he was a private detective; maybe this should be his new job now that he was retired.
“Skinner for hire at your service”, he told the two agents.
“What did you find out?”, Scully asked.
Skinner was momentarily distracted; in the water of the reflecting pool, he could see the icy feature of Alex Krycek looking up at him, smirking. The hallucinations were getting more surreal.
Skinner picked up a stone and threw it into the reflecting pool, smashing the illusion of Krycek, and getting a few disgruntled stares from parents who were nearby with their children.
“Sir? Walter?”, Scully asked.
“Sorry, I was thinking of something”, Skinner muttered.
“Did our Bellatrix Lestrange have anything insightful to say?”, Mulder asked.
“I didn’t believe at first about this apparent psychic connection that you think the Eves have”, Skinner replied; “she waffled a lot, wanted to talk to me about the weather, but she kept coming back to the subject of Sally Kendrick’s brain”.
Mulder and Scully looked confused.
“She was under the impression that the government have hidden Sally Kendrick’s brain in a storage facility somewhere”, Skinner continued, and it seems that the others want it back; “she also seems to think that they may be searching for her, says they want to change her into some sort of psychopath”.
“Like she wasn’t already a psychopath when we first met her”, Mulder muttered; “did she tell you how she once chewed through a man’s eyeball?”
“I’ll be honest”, replied Skinner; “she didn’t really seem like that type”.
“None of the Eves did seem like that”, Scully replied; “it was all part of the act with them”.
“No, it was more than that”, Skinner replied; “she didn’t seem like someone who could even be provoked. When we were talking, a female customer started getting stroppy. She complained that her coffee was cold.
“So, this waitress - Eve 6 you tell her - said she was sorry, and would she like another one, free of charge. The woman shouted about how she had already been waiting half an hour, and insisted that she would not pay for the food she had ordered. The customer then threw the cold coffee all over the waitress, staining her uniform. All she did was smiled and apologized; she completely turned the other cheek”.
Mulder and Scully looked at each other.
“A sort of Anthony Burgess type dystopia”, Scully told Skinner.
“Huh?”, Skinner asked.
“I guess you don’t read the right books, Skin Man”, Mulder laughed; “sounds like the Molokos are getting their gullivers messed with, to take away their baddiwad habits”. He put on a falsetto British accent as he said this.
“I think Mulder is suggesting there may be some brainwashing going on”, Scully clarified.
“I was never into science fiction, Mulder”, Skinner grumbled; “I’m a Jeffery Deaver fan myself, starting to realise how Lincoln Rhyme must feel”.
“Thank you for all your help, Walter”, Scully added.
“It feels good to be useful”, Skinner replied; “but Mulder - don’t call me Skin Man again”.
As he wheeled himself away, Scully’s phone rang.
“Scully”, she said, answering it.
“Hi, Dana”, said Agent Einstein, on the other end; “I’m afraid I can’t make our mentoring session today; we’ve been called out to a crime scene”.
She was stood in the restroom at Peck’s Bar; Agent Miller knelt over the chalk outline that had been marked on the floor.
“Oh dear”, Scully replied, “what happened?”
“A John Doe has been murdered; the barman says he saw a man in military gear enter; he exited, and then left the bar. Oddly enough, he says the man was shaking when he left, but seemed fine when he left”.
“This may be a long shot”, said Scully, “but I’d like to do the autopsy on this man; maybe I can find out if he was poisoned”.
“You really think so?”, Einstein replied.
“Also, Agent Mulder would suggest searching any nearby dumpsters, just in case our killer tried to hide any evidence”.
Mulder’s ears pricked up when he heard his name. “You know me too well, Scully”, he said, as she hung up the phone.
In Peck’s Bar, Agent Einstein glanced at Agent Miller, while trying not to retch.
“Sorry you have to miss your appointment”, he said “sounds like it was important”.
“I’m thinking of my priorities right now”, Einstein replied; “also, sounds like Agent Scully thinks this could be an X-File. She wants to look at the body”.
XXXXX
The sight of the John Doe was predictably gruesome, but Scully had seen worse cadavers. The one with the live fluke inside in many years ago had definitely been one that made her glad she had a strong stomach.
“The time is 4pm on 10 July 2019”, she said; “I am autopsying a John Doe, cause of death currently unknown”.
Agents Einstein and Miller stood nearby, watching the most seasoned doctor in the F.B.I. go about her work; they said nothing.
Agent Einstein attempted to hold her partner’s hand, but he moved it away. She felt a little silly for having tried.
Agent Miller was too busy looking away, as Scully opened up the cadaver, to examine the heart.
“All signs point to the possibility that the victim suffered from high blood pressure just before death”, Scully said into her microphone; “I also suspect that the central venous pressure in the man’s body dropped”.
That was when Agent Miller ran out of the room, looking nauseous. Agent Einstein excused herself, and went to check that he was okay.
XXXXX
Ten minutes later, Agent Miller stood, shirtless over the sink in the men’s restroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. What sort of an F.B.I. agent was he, running off and vomiting over himself?
There was a knock, and Agent Einstein walked in, carrying a New York Knicks T-shirt.
“One of Agent Mulder’s cast-offs?”, he asked.
“It would appear so, Bobby”, replied Agent Einstein; “it ended up in lost property somehow, and it does seem to fit you”.
“Thanks”, he said; “I feel like I’m back at school again”. He held up a plastic bag containing his soiled shirt.
“I’m sure you’re not the first F.B.I. agent to retch at the sight of a body”, Einstein reassured him. Despite his clear reluctance, she moved in to hug him.
Moments later, they exited the men’s room, Miller now wearing the T-shirt.
“Suits you”, said Scully, who had just come to look for them.
“Did you find out what you wanted, Agent Scully?”, Miller asked.
“It would appear that our John Doe was died from digitalis poisoning”, replied Scully; “Agent Mulder is going to be very excited about this”.
XXXXX
WASHINGTON, DC
“We’ve just closed” said Barbara, as the man in military uniform entered Wyndham’s.
The customer did not heed this, and walked towards her.
They’re coming for you, Barbara, her brain was telling her.
“Sorry”, she repeated; “do come again”.
The man grabbed her wrist, and looked her in the eye.
Without flinching, she replied: “We are closed now, but we open at 7 sharp tomorrow. I hope to see you tomorrow”.
Adam 9 tightened his grip: “I’ve not come to get a coffee, Barbara - or should I say Eve 6? I’ve come for you”.
“Do have a nice day”, Barbara smiled.
“Oh, what have they done to you?”, Adam 9 frowned; “you’ve become a regular Manchurian Candidate”.
As he tightened his grip, an older woman - the café manager - appeared from a door at the back.
“Is everything okay, Barbara?”, she asked; “is this man bothering you”.
“She’s perfectly fine”, said Adam 9, pulling out his previous victim’s gun, and shooting the manager point blank in the head.
Sometimes, you had to go for the old-fashioned methods of dispatching unwanted people.
XXXXX
“We’re still waiting for dental records to confirm who our John Doe is” said Scully, as Mulder prepared the evening’s dinner, “but the fact that the man was killed with digitalis definitely points towards the Eves being involved”.
“So, all we need to know now is their motives”, Mulder replied.
“Einstein and Miller say that clothes were found in the dumpster outside”, Scully added; “nothing out of the ordinary, except that the pants pocket had a small vial in, which the lab confirmed had traces of digitalis inside”.
“So, despite their heightened intelligence”, Mulder grinned; “they still don’t know how to conceal evidence properly”.
It was at that point that they heard a loud knock on the door.
“Did you invite Skin Man round?”, Mulder asked.
Scully shrugged, as Mulder went to answer the increasingly loud knocking.
He was surprised at who stood at the door, wearing the same black suit as he had on their previous meeting.
“I met you, back at Christmas” said Mulder; “you’re the man from the train”.
“I don’t know where you think you know me from”, said the visitor; “maybe you’ve met one of my ‘brothers’, so to speak. My name is David Greendale, but you can call me Adam 5. You need to listen to me; it’s later than you think”.
XXXXX
Edit: Okay, actually it's so long, I've got to split it into two posts.
Episode 12x14: Adam
“Welcome to another episode of Mr. and Mrs.” boomed the voice-over, “with your host-Tad O’Malley”.
Tad O'Malley had managed to get a job - any job really would suit him. Hosting a game show wasn’t his idea of a great time, but it paid the bills.
“Thank you, thank you” O’Malley shouted, as the crowd applauded, and then waited for the clapping to fade away, aided by the cues given by the man standing to one side holding the “APPLAUSE” sign.
“It’s time once again”, he gushed; “to find out who has the most perfect marriage. Hopefully better than the one I had to my wife; she left me for a priest. I wouldn’t have minded, but he was the one officiating at our wedding”.
It was a poor attempt at humour, and O’Malley was sweating. However, the man at the side held up a sign telling the audience to laugh, and they did exactly that.
“So”, O’Malley continued, pleased not to have just died on stage; “let’s meet our contestants. First up are Betty and Barney van Dijk”.
On cue, a booth was trundled onto the set containing a young couple; they both gave forced smiles to the camera. The camera operator looked bored, and was bored; he’d watched two recordings already that afternoon.
“Really?”, Tad asked; “Betty and Barney?”
“People make comments like that all the time” Betty said, through her forced grin; “they always ask about our neighbours Fred and Wilma”.
“We don’t fancy calling a kid Bamm Bamm though”, Barney continued.
“So, what do you both do for a living?”, O’Malley asked, through a forced grin.
“I’m an architect” replied Betty.
“And I’m a firefighter”, added Barney.
“So she designs the buildings, and you prevent them from going up in smoke?”, Tad asked.
Before either could answer, Tad continued: “Let’s meet our next couple: Ross and Rachel Warner. Wow, really? Where are we getting these couples from?”
The next couple appeared; they were also young. She had long blonde hair; he was bearded and bespectacled, and their smiles looked even more fake than Betty and Barneys’.
“Now, what do both of you do for a living?”, O’Malley asked, beginning to wish his autocue would give him something more exciting to say.
“I’m a paediatrician” said Barney.
“I’m a gynaecologist”, added Betty; “we’ve been in employment for many years at our local sanitarium, and that’s where we made each others’ acquaintance”. O’Malley was intrigued by her fancy word usage; it was like she was trying to show off.
“She impressed me by telling me all about what a colposcope does” Barney laughed.
“Is this something you can explain on a family show?”, O’Malley asked.
“Unquestionably not”, Barney replied.
As O’Malley’s producer talked into his ear to get things moving, he sighed: “Well, let’s start the show”.
XXXXX
Some time into the recording, and after a number of bathroom breaks and pauses to re-touch makeup, the show reached the “how well do you know each other?” round.
Betty and Barney were ushered backstage where they couldn’t see the questions that their opponents would get. They would be asked them eventually, and were going to have no opportunity to agree on what answers they would give. The point was that one needed to know all about their spouse.
As Ross was placed into a soundproof booth, O’Malley smiled at Rachel. “Don’t worry”, he said; “all you’ve got to lose is each others’ respect”.
He looked at Ross, who slipped his glasses off and put them in his pocket, as a big pair of headphones was placed over his head. He definitely wasn’t going to hear a thing.
“I’ll check he can’t hear you” said O’Malley; “hey, Ross, Rachel and I are just off on a date”.
Ross just looked down at the floor; he was evidently enjoying the 80s music that he was hearing.
“So, Rachel” said O’Malley; “I take it you had a first date, but can you remember what Ross ate?”
“A burger and fries” replied Rachel; “we went to Lucky Boy; he told me after that he thought one of their employees was a cannibal”.
O’Malley blushed; that joke probably wouldn’t make the final edit.
“Also, what was the first thing he said to you?”
“I believe he said: ‘Have you seen a pen lying around here?’”
“He sounds really romantic”, O’Malley laughed, which got an amused reaction from the audience, who didn’t even need prompting this time.
“What would you say is Ross’ pet peeve?”, O’Malley continued.
“Definitely when I converse with my mouth full”, laughed Rachel; “he becomes incandescent”.
“Also, what would Ross’ dream vacation be?”
“He would love to go to Vegas” said Rachel; “he’s speculated about it for a very long time”.
“Wants to win big bucks, I guess”, O’Malley smiled.
“He’s always been a big dreamer”, Rachel laughed.
“Finally, who is his celebrity crush?”
“Emilia Clarke” Rachel laughed; “the Mother of Dragons herself”.
“Same questions for you”, O’Malley replied; “what was the first thing you said to Ross? In response to the pen thing I guess”.
“I told him - pens can’t talk, so how can this one be fabricating the truth?”
The audience took a few moments to process the joke, and there was delayed laughter.
“My pet peeve is when he leaves the lavatory seat suspended”.
“You mean he leaves it up?”, O’Malley asked.
“In simplistic terms, affirmative; and my dream vacation would be to China, which is 21,196 kilometres in length. I’d love to perambulate along at least part of it”, said Rachel; “and my celebrity crush is definitely Hugh Jackman”.
“Well” said O’Malley; “time to bring back Ross, and see if his answers match yours”.
The headphones were taken off Ross, and O’Malley joked: “Yes, your wife has just accepted this timeshare from me”.
Ross chuckled.
“Do you think you could have lip-read us with your glasses on?”, O’Malley asked jokingly; “you know, like HAL on 2001?”
Ross put his arm around O’Malley’s waist: “I don’t need to lip read to know what my wife is thinking”. He winked at Rachel, as he did so.
“I asked Rachel where you had your first date”, said O’Malley.
Ross pulled his glasses out of his pocket, and fiddled with them as he thought about his answer.
“We went to a burger bar - Lucky Boy” he said decisively, cleaning his glasses on his shirt, and then putting them back on.
“Can you tell me what the first thing you said to Rachel was?”
Ross laughed, seemingly amused by the memory: “Have you seen a pen lying around here?”
“No, I haven’t”, O’Malley joked; “oh, that’s your answer? Now, what is your pet peeve?”
“I hate it when Rachel masticates with her countenance full” replied Ross.
Rachel had been spot on so far.
“How about your dream holiday?”
“Las Vegas, Nevada, baby!” shouted Ross, firing pretend guns into the air.
“Also, your celebrity crush? Hopefully Rachel won’t be too jealous”.
“I remember getting really into Game of Thrones” replied Ross, “and I am enamoured with Emilia Clarke. Danaerys Targaryen”.
“Now, do you remember what Rachel said in reply to your comment about the pen?”
Ross looked at Rachel, who was smiling; she was clearly happy at the apparent psychic bond that they shared with each other. Maybe they really could speak telepathically, the audience was almost certainly wondering.
“She said” Ross tried hard not to laugh; “pens can’t talk, so how can this one be fabricating the truth. She had me hook, line and sinker after that. Also, she hates it when I leave the lid up on the toilet, wants to do a pilgrimage to China, and she is obsessed with Hugh Jackman”.
The audience started cheering before the sign prompting them to do so was lit up. Ross and Rachel high-fived, and then started hugging each other.
“Well, didn’t they do amazingly”, said O’Malley, as Ross and Rachel were ushered off, “but now to catch up with our other friends, Betty and Barney”.
Betty and Barney were in a sound booth just behind the stage, and all the crew needed to do was open a door at the back, and they would appear, and then walk back out.
“Let’s give them a big hand”, said O’Malley, as the door began to open, and the audience began to cheer.
Moments later, the cheers began to fade, more abruptly than usual. The audience were all looking aghast at what O’Malley was also looking at.
One of the cameramen vomited as his camera focused on Betty and Barney; blood dripped down their fronts, and on to the floor in front of them. Broken glass lay at their feet, and a pool of water was mingling with the couple’s blood.
The blood was coming from their slit throats.
Both of them were very much dead.
O’Malley fought the urge to retch, and then turned to the camera, shouting:
“CUT!”
XXXXX
NEVADA DESERT
11:21AM
Yves-Adele Harlow started at her watch, and then at the piece of paper she had been given, with a note on it: “COME ALONE”.
Whatever source she was about to meet did not want to meet Jimmy or Kimmy, and to be honest, she understood why.
Her contact was late though, and Yves did not like being stood up. This was a lot of valuable time wasted.
Five minutes later, a car finally pulled up, and its occupant got out. Yves sighed in disappointment; she might have guessed that her contact would turn out to be the man who stood before her.
“You”, she muttered.
“Is that all you have to say to your old man?”, Morris Fletcher asked, with his arms open; “what about a hug?”
“I don’t do hugs”, Yves muttered; “so, you’ve decided to betray your MIB pals again? Have you got anything useful for the Lone Gunmen newsletter?”
“Oh, you misunderstand”, Morris replied; “this is nothing to do with your newsletter?”
“You’re not even here to say that you’ll tell your cigarette smoking friend about us if we don’t shut the magazine down? Carl Gerhardt Busch Spender - yes, I know his real name”.
“Relax, Lois”, Morris laughed; “you seem so suspicious”.
“It’s Yves now”, she snapped.
“Okay, Yves if you insist”, sighed Morris; “I felt it was about time we did a little father-daughter bonding, and took a little road trip”.
Yves inwardly groaned; it seemed like she didn’t have much of a choice.
XXXXX
“So” said Scully, “you say that none of the crew were aware that Mr. and Mrs. … Van Dijk were being murdered under your very nose”.
This certainly was a strange second meeting for the agents and Tad O’Malley, reduced to hosting a game show rather than his conspiracy theory programme.
“It’s almost like someone took the phrase ‘dying on stage’ literally, Mulder quipped, before making an effort to take the job more seriously.
“I understand a member of staff was meant to take glasses of water to them backstage” O’Malley explained; he was still shaken up, the day after the incident.
“So, presumably the Van Dijks were still alive at that point”, Scully reasoned, since nobody raised the alarm”.
“I take it nobody else entered the room?”, Mulder asked.
“Security reported the crew member entering and leaving the room”, O’Malley continued; “nobody else went in or out”.
“Well, maybe we could find out which crew member it was, and speak to them”, Scully suggested; “ask if they saw anything out of the ordinary”.
“I can’t even remember who it would have been”, said O’Malley; “I think we can bring up the security footage”.
Mulder and Scully were ushered into a room containing security videos, and O’Malley played a recording taken while the incident occurred. A woman with red hair tucked under a baseball cap was seen entering the room with glasses of water, and then leaving about ten seconds after. A security guard was visible, but his face was indistinct. Colour CCTV was a rare novelty.
“I guess we could ask around, and see if anyone recognizes her”, O’Malley suggested.
“Maybe someone could speak to the security guard, too”, Scully added; “it seems that he should have heard something. Did get his name, or see what he looked like?”
“I’m not too good with names” replied O’Malley, “bald head; soul patch beard, and glasses. Must have been about fifty; I can ask the security team to see if anyone matches that description”.
“What happened with the other contestants?”, Mulder enquired.
“We settled the incident quietly”, O’Malley replied; “to avoid being sued by mental trauma caused by the incident, we offered them a large sum of compensation. It was also partly because the show had to be shut down, and they wouldn’t be able to compete for the prize winnings”.
“If you’ll excuse me”, Mulder added; “restroom”.
Scully glanced at him as he left; she suspected he was going anywhere but the john.
XXXXX
Jackson still wasn’t sure who the mysterious older woman was; all he was sure about was that she’d helped him get out of prison back in Louisiana.
He flashed back in his head to the moment when she had appeared, wearing the uniform of a prison guard. She had been heavily disguised as a male officer; well enough to fool Jackson.
“I’m here to get you out”, she had whispered in his ear; “I know all about your abilities. Between you and me, the Governor is temporarily indisposed, so if you want to get out of here easily, you just need to pretend you’re him”.
She had carefully picked Jackson’s handcuffs, and they had slowly walked down the corridor, in silence. Guards had passed, but thanks to Jackson’s ability to fool the mind, they had seen him as Governor Blake. Rather than Jackson’s pasty appearance, they had seen Blake’s rotund physique, and his Colonel Sanders-like appearance.
He looked up at his saviour, and remembered her words: “Officially, my name is Eve 8. You can call me Sally, after the woman who created me. Sally Kendrick”.
A young man also sat in the room with them; he smiled nervously at Jackson, who returned his gesture with a thumbs up. Edward was his name, Jackson remembered, or Eddie for short.
Also known as ‘Adam 10’, apparently.
The two younger Eves put him in mind of the twin girls from The Shining; he felt like he had a crush on them. Despite being in their thirties, they still talked like a pair of giggling schoolkids.
“Come, play with us, Jackson”, he could imagine them saying.
“We met your Mum”, Teena told Jackson; “and your half-brother”.
“Agents Scully and Mulder” added Cindy; “let’s just say we spent some time together, played a childhood prank on them with their soda”.
“Want to know how we know all about you?”, Tenna laughed.
“Because you just knew?”, Jackson asked; “that’s all I keep hearing around here”.
“We Googled it”, replied Cindy; “it’s amazing what gets out there on the Dark Web”.
“You did realise your real father is a guy who is addicted to smoking, and breathes through a hole in his neck?”, Teena added.
“He shot me”, Jackson replied.
“You’re just as hard to kill as he is”, Cindy laughed; she patted his cheek; “you’re just like Fox Mulder.”
Eve 8 smiled at her companions: “It seems that phase one of our plan is complete. Also, we may have ruined Tad O’Malley’s career for good”.
XXXXX
“I knew you didn’t get enough to eat, but this is getting ridiculous”.
Scully surprised Mulder as he peered into a dumpster outside the recording studios.
“Dumpster diving, Mulder? Really? I’m sure they have an in-house canteen”.
“Oh, there is method in my madness, Scully; there usually is”, Mulder grinned; “let me guess…”
“I know what you’re going to say, Mulder”, Scully replied; “and you’re correct; nobody recognized our mysterious stranger.
“I thought as much”, Mulder replied, pulling out a redhead wig and baseball cap, much like the one the woman had worn on the security footage.
Scully looked incredulous; “Mulder…” she began.
“It’s okay”, Mulder added, showing Scully that he was indeed wearing rubber gloves; “now, it would be good to see what the other couple looked like”.
From the same dumpster, he pulled out a blonde wig, a fake beard, and a pair of glasses that probably had no prescription.
“Some people are masters of disguise”, added Mulder, “but not masters of hiding the evidence”.
“I’m surprised you didn’t find a murder weapon in there”, Scully muttered.
“Well” Mulder smiled; “since you gave me a lead-in, I did find this”.
From his pocket, he pulled out an evidence bag containing a bloodstained knife. It was large, and had a serrated edge.
“Alakazam, Scully!” are you satisfied?
“I’m surprised you never went on American Pickers, Mulder”.
XXXXX
WASHINGTON, DC
“So, Mulder, what I don’t get is why we’re still involved in this case? Are we doing this as a favour for Tad O’Malley, because as far as I can tell, this is not an X-Files”.
Scully and Mulder were walking through the bustling streets of DC the following afternoon. The main reason for the crowds was the fact that there was a Washington Nationals baseball game on. Scully had seen several groups of young men walking past, in high spirits. Most of them had been dressed identically, in their team’s shirt, and with their baseball caps, bills facing back-to-front.
It was almost like an attack of the clones, all of the fans seemed almost identical to each other.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise too soon, Scully”, Mulder said, cryptically.
“All the same, Mulder” replied Scully; “I think we should be leaving this to the F.B.I.’s violent crimes division”.
It was at that point that Mulder’s phone rang.
Glancing at it, he told Scully: “That was good timing; looks like a friend of ours wants to facetime with us”.
Scully looked confused; as Mulder accepted the call, he added: “I’ve been outsourcing our work to some willing volunteers”.
As Scully looked, Agent Miller appeared on screen; he adjusted the frame to show his partner Agent Einstein beside him.
“So, what did you find out for us?”, Mulder asked.
“We passed that knife on to the lab”, Miller replied; “and they came back with the results”.
“You’re really getting these two to do errands for you?”, Scully asked.
“Don’t worry, Agent Scully” said Einstein; “we’ve enjoyed it really. The lab also confirmed that the blood on the knife belonged to both of the victims”.
“They also found something else”, Miller added; “traces of digitalis”.
“Like what you get in foxgloves”, Einstein added.
Scully knew all about digitalis: “Sounds like somebody really wanted to make sure both victims died”, she added; “I’ve known of people to survive having their throats slit, but the digitalis would have killed them very quickly”.
“You’ve been a great help”, Mulder smiled.
“Oh, and one more thing”, Miller added; “I’ve not congratulated you yet on your engagement”.
“Thanks” Scully replied.
“Yes, hoping all the best for you both”, Einstein added; “see you both soon”.
As Mulder hung up the phone, he told Scully: “You never know, those two may be running the X-Files one day”.
“Sounds like you’re serious about finding someone to take over”, Scully smiled; “I’m surprised you didn’t send out five golden tickets”.
“So, how about this latest news?”, Mulder asked; “you and I haven’t met many people who used digitalis on their victims”.
Scully looked at Mulder; she remembered of course. Many years ago, the young Cindy Reardon and Teena Simmons had attempted to poison Mulder and Scullys’ drinks using digitalis. The fact that they had spilled a few drops in the process had alerted Mulder, and he had made sure they didn’t manage to take a lethal dose.
“Danny confirmed to me that all three Eves went missing from the prison they were confined to”, Mulder added; “they appear to have been in hiding for some time, but now it would appear that they are back”.
“So, the other contestants”, Scully asked; “you think they were both Eves in disguise”.
“More likely one of them was an Adam, their male counterpart”, Mulder explained; “it would appear that more of them are out their than our Deep Throat previously believed”.
“So, let me guess; the woman who bought the victims their water - and killed them - she was another Eve in disguise”, Scully added.
“Exactly” replied Mulder, noticing Skinner up ahead in his wheelchair. He was outside the coffee shop where they had arranged to meet. The sign on the top identified it as “WYNDHAM’S”.
Handily, there was a ramp to help Skinner get into the café, as they headed in, and sat down at a free table.
“Something tells me that this isn’t just a social engagement” muttered Skinner; “but I like to make myself useful. Forced retirement isn’t exactly a barrel of laughs”.
Mulder and Scully noticed Skinner staring at the empty chair at their table.
Seen only by him, Skinner’s own Harvey, Alex Krycek, grinned menacingly back at him.
“Walter, what did I tell you?” said Krycek; “Fox Mulder uses everyone”.
“Shut up”, Skinner muttered.
“Sir?”, Scully asked.
“Never mind”, said Skinner; “what do you need from me this time?”
Mulder pointed to the waitress coming through the restaurant, pushing a trolley.
To Scully, the moment really was like seeing Kathy Bates in the final scene of Misery. The last time Scully had seen the waitress, she had been locked up securely in a prison cell, with no chance of any release. Strangely, she looked less crazy than she had before; perhaps she was on heavy medication.
“Are you ready to order?”, asked Eve 6, holding out her notebook and pen. Scully noticed that her name badge identified her as “Barbara Shelley”.
XXXXX
NEVADA
The diner was called SHAFFNER’S. Yves didn’t care much for the name.
A young waitress bought two stacks of pancakes over to the booth that Yves and Morris were sitting at. Yves watched as her father squirted about half a tube of maple syrup over his pancakes, but didn’t say anything.
“So, Lois” said Morris; “what are you thinking of? You’ve not said anything much so far. Are you avoiding our little road trip?”
“What should I be saying?”, Yves replied; “should I be proud of what my father does for a living? Should I be happy that he had a one-night stand with my mother, and then disappeared from my life for all those years?”
“Hey”, Morris replied; “I didn’t even realise that she was pregnant; I didn’t know about you for a long time”.
“How convenient”, Yves muttered.
“Anyhow, maybe there’s somewhere we could go”, Morris added; “I could show you the location of the Black Mailbox. I’ll let you into a secret…”
He whispered into Yves’ ear: “There is no Black Mailbox”.
Yves groaned; she was tired of her father’s jokes.
“Maybe we could go to Vegas”, she said; “my late friends John, Melvin and Ringo said they saw you there with your buddies. Wasn’t it just after you left your wife? You know, Joanne, the one who you apparently wanted to make things work with?”
“How did you…?”, Morris asked.
“You forget, I’m a hacker”, Yves added; “I have ways of knowing these things”.
“Joanne and I had, let’s say a … conscious uncoupling”, Morris replied; “we still speak to each other, we just aren’t married any more”.
“Oh, and one other thing”, Yves added; “her son and daughter. My half-brother and half-sister”.
Morris chuckled: “Chris and Terry - I mean Terence - what about them?”
“How come you’ve never introduced me to them?”
“I’ll have more coffee please”, Morris called to the waitress.
“See” said Yves, and the waitress turned to the coffee machine; “you’re avoiding the subject”.
“What do you mean?”, Morris asked.
“As soon as I mention never having met Chris and Terence, you change the subject.
“Now, you’re just imagining things”, Morris laughed; “anyway, I gotta use the john”.
As Yves fumed, Morris left the table. The waitress came over with a pot of coffee, and started refilling Morris’ cup.
“I dated a man older than me once, Honey” she said; “it didn’t work out”.
Morris spotted the cleaning sign outside the restroom, and the male janitor coming out.
“You doing well, Gary?” he asked.
Gary was a similar age to Morris, and he seemed like he’d be stuck in this menial job forever.
“Never better, Mr. Fletcher”.
“Isn’t it good to be a helpful member of our society?”, Morris whispered; “much better than being a murderer, isn’t that right - Adam 6?”
Gary looked confused: “I just go by the name Gary now, Mr. Fletcher”.
“Indeed”, Morris chuckled.
He stepped into the restroom, and relieved himself, while whistling “The Star-Stangled Banner”. As he washed his hands, the restroom door flung open, revealing Yves.
“Yes, Lois? Morris asked, calmly, “can you give me a moment?”
“I’ll give you a moment” replied Yves; “and then we are going to meet Chris and Terence”.
XXXXX
WASHINGTON, DC
“So, Sir - Walter”, Mulder whispered; “Eve 6 - Barbara - has met us before. We’re not sure if she’d open up to us”.
“You’re getting me to interrogate her on your behalf?”, Skinner asked; “well, it would take me back to my old days as a junior F.B.I. Agent. What would you like me to ask?”
“Maybe we should mention the late Doctor Sally Kendrick”, Scully suggested.
“Would she know about her?”, Skinner asked, confused.
“The thing is about the Eves” Mulder whispered is, “they just know these things. It’s like telepathy or something”.
“I don’t really believe in any of this telepathy stuff any more than Agent Scully does”, replied Skinner, “but I’ll see what I can do”.
Mulder’s phone rang as he and Scully got up to leave.
“Fox Mulder”, he said, as he began to walk out.
“Mulder” said Tad O’Malley, from the other end; “this keeps on getting weirder and weirder. So, I’m not too familiar with the security at the studios, but I gave a description of the security guard who ushered in our murder suspect”.
“Did you get a name?”, Mulder asked.
“I was told my description sounded like Manning Wilson”, O’Malley replied, but here’s the thing; “Wilson died a week before the recording, in a car accident. The head of security showed me a photo of him, and I swear it was him who I spoke to that day, unless this is the Mandela effect or something”.
“Thanks” said Mulder, a little stunned; “I’ll speak to you soon”.
“So” he said to Scully; “apparently a dead man was working for the security team at the TV studios. Now, do you think it’s an X-File?”
XXXXX
Sally - as she called herself - walked into the room carrying what appeared to be architect’s plans for a large building.
“Amazing what a little computer hacking can do”, she smiled.
“I still don’t understand what I have to do with this”, Jackson protested; “you had me convince Tad O’Malley that I was a security guard; so what?”
“The fool didn’t even realise the man was dead”, Teena smirked.
“As we all knew”, added Cindy.
“That’s enough, girls - ladies” replied Sally; “this is the plan of a top-secret facility near to Washington, DC, where our first target is located. Apparently Fox Mulder has broken into this place, so I think we should manage with no problems”.
“You need me to get into there?”, Jackson asked.
Sally held up a picture of a stern-looking man in military uniform: “This is Sergeant Allen Chambers; you need to convince the other officials there that you are him, and that you’ve arrested us. You should also deter any of them from offering you assistance, but if they do, we are ready to take measures to neutralize them”.
“Okay”, Jackson replied; “but how do you propose we deal with the real Sergeant Chambers, if he shows up?”
“We have someone onto it right now”, Tenna laughed.
“We just know he’s getting the job done”, added Cindy.
XXXXX
PECK’S BAR
WASHINGTON, DC
The younger man stroked Sergeant Chambers’ knee affectionately. He sipped his long island iced tea slowly; it tasted a little sweeter than usual. He thought nothing of it.
He just liked the fact that he had been offered a drink by a man like this. He had spent much of his life picking up rent boys behind his wife’s back, unable to admit to his own homosexuality. The man’s face was half-hidden by the bill of his baseball cap, but Chambers already liked what he saw.
The stranger whispered in his ear: “I’m going into the John; first stall that you come to. Wait one minute, and then follow me”.
Chambers’ hand began to shake as the man walked into the restroom.
As he entered the restroom, he noticed with relief that it was empty. He stripped down to his boxer shorts, and threw his outer garments, and his cap and shoes, out of the window. He’d been fed up with that t-shirt anyway; far too tight. He knew that there was a conveniently-placed dumpster right outside the window, where the evidence would soon be taken away.
He stepped into the stall, and waited.
As Chambers got up, his shaking was getting worse; maybe it was just nerves, he told himself.
“Are you okay, Sir?” a waitress asked.
“Perfectly fine, Miss”, he replied, as he stagged towards the restroom; “mind your own business”.
He opened the stall door to look his mystery admirer in the face.
“There’s … there’s something familiar about you” he said.
His shaking was now uncontrollable, and he started foaming at the mouth as he collapsed to the floor.
“I forgot to tell you my name” said the stranger, Sergeant Chambers’ life slowly faded; “Adam … Adam 9”.
He smiled as Sergeant Chambers finally expired. He pulled out the vial of quick dissolving acid from inside his sock, and poured it over the dead man’s face. He was careful not to get the stuff on his own skin.
A few minutes later, a figure in military dress left the restroom, and quickly exited the bar without drawing too much attention to himself.
Adam 9 smiled to himself; Sergeant Chambers’ uniform fitted him snugly. It had been unfortunate that the man had to die, but he had been a good physical match to both Adam 9, and Jackson Van de Kamp.
Five minutes later, another bar patron found an almost naked, and now faceless, body of Sergeant Chambers, in the stall. He immediately leaned over the toilet bowl, and vomited.
XXXXX
REFLECTING POOL
WASHINGTON, DC
Skinner wheeled himself over to the bench where Mulder and Scully sat, and pulled himself on to the bench. He felt like he was a private detective; maybe this should be his new job now that he was retired.
“Skinner for hire at your service”, he told the two agents.
“What did you find out?”, Scully asked.
Skinner was momentarily distracted; in the water of the reflecting pool, he could see the icy feature of Alex Krycek looking up at him, smirking. The hallucinations were getting more surreal.
Skinner picked up a stone and threw it into the reflecting pool, smashing the illusion of Krycek, and getting a few disgruntled stares from parents who were nearby with their children.
“Sir? Walter?”, Scully asked.
“Sorry, I was thinking of something”, Skinner muttered.
“Did our Bellatrix Lestrange have anything insightful to say?”, Mulder asked.
“I didn’t believe at first about this apparent psychic connection that you think the Eves have”, Skinner replied; “she waffled a lot, wanted to talk to me about the weather, but she kept coming back to the subject of Sally Kendrick’s brain”.
Mulder and Scully looked confused.
“She was under the impression that the government have hidden Sally Kendrick’s brain in a storage facility somewhere”, Skinner continued, and it seems that the others want it back; “she also seems to think that they may be searching for her, says they want to change her into some sort of psychopath”.
“Like she wasn’t already a psychopath when we first met her”, Mulder muttered; “did she tell you how she once chewed through a man’s eyeball?”
“I’ll be honest”, replied Skinner; “she didn’t really seem like that type”.
“None of the Eves did seem like that”, Scully replied; “it was all part of the act with them”.
“No, it was more than that”, Skinner replied; “she didn’t seem like someone who could even be provoked. When we were talking, a female customer started getting stroppy. She complained that her coffee was cold.
“So, this waitress - Eve 6 you tell her - said she was sorry, and would she like another one, free of charge. The woman shouted about how she had already been waiting half an hour, and insisted that she would not pay for the food she had ordered. The customer then threw the cold coffee all over the waitress, staining her uniform. All she did was smiled and apologized; she completely turned the other cheek”.
Mulder and Scully looked at each other.
“A sort of Anthony Burgess type dystopia”, Scully told Skinner.
“Huh?”, Skinner asked.
“I guess you don’t read the right books, Skin Man”, Mulder laughed; “sounds like the Molokos are getting their gullivers messed with, to take away their baddiwad habits”. He put on a falsetto British accent as he said this.
“I think Mulder is suggesting there may be some brainwashing going on”, Scully clarified.
“I was never into science fiction, Mulder”, Skinner grumbled; “I’m a Jeffery Deaver fan myself, starting to realise how Lincoln Rhyme must feel”.
“Thank you for all your help, Walter”, Scully added.
“It feels good to be useful”, Skinner replied; “but Mulder - don’t call me Skin Man again”.
As he wheeled himself away, Scully’s phone rang.
“Scully”, she said, answering it.
“Hi, Dana”, said Agent Einstein, on the other end; “I’m afraid I can’t make our mentoring session today; we’ve been called out to a crime scene”.
She was stood in the restroom at Peck’s Bar; Agent Miller knelt over the chalk outline that had been marked on the floor.
“Oh dear”, Scully replied, “what happened?”
“A John Doe has been murdered; the barman says he saw a man in military gear enter; he exited, and then left the bar. Oddly enough, he says the man was shaking when he left, but seemed fine when he left”.
“This may be a long shot”, said Scully, “but I’d like to do the autopsy on this man; maybe I can find out if he was poisoned”.
“You really think so?”, Einstein replied.
“Also, Agent Mulder would suggest searching any nearby dumpsters, just in case our killer tried to hide any evidence”.
Mulder’s ears pricked up when he heard his name. “You know me too well, Scully”, he said, as she hung up the phone.
In Peck’s Bar, Agent Einstein glanced at Agent Miller, while trying not to retch.
“Sorry you have to miss your appointment”, he said “sounds like it was important”.
“I’m thinking of my priorities right now”, Einstein replied; “also, sounds like Agent Scully thinks this could be an X-File. She wants to look at the body”.
XXXXX
The sight of the John Doe was predictably gruesome, but Scully had seen worse cadavers. The one with the live fluke inside in many years ago had definitely been one that made her glad she had a strong stomach.
“The time is 4pm on 10 July 2019”, she said; “I am autopsying a John Doe, cause of death currently unknown”.
Agents Einstein and Miller stood nearby, watching the most seasoned doctor in the F.B.I. go about her work; they said nothing.
Agent Einstein attempted to hold her partner’s hand, but he moved it away. She felt a little silly for having tried.
Agent Miller was too busy looking away, as Scully opened up the cadaver, to examine the heart.
“All signs point to the possibility that the victim suffered from high blood pressure just before death”, Scully said into her microphone; “I also suspect that the central venous pressure in the man’s body dropped”.
That was when Agent Miller ran out of the room, looking nauseous. Agent Einstein excused herself, and went to check that he was okay.
XXXXX
Ten minutes later, Agent Miller stood, shirtless over the sink in the men’s restroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. What sort of an F.B.I. agent was he, running off and vomiting over himself?
There was a knock, and Agent Einstein walked in, carrying a New York Knicks T-shirt.
“One of Agent Mulder’s cast-offs?”, he asked.
“It would appear so, Bobby”, replied Agent Einstein; “it ended up in lost property somehow, and it does seem to fit you”.
“Thanks”, he said; “I feel like I’m back at school again”. He held up a plastic bag containing his soiled shirt.
“I’m sure you’re not the first F.B.I. agent to retch at the sight of a body”, Einstein reassured him. Despite his clear reluctance, she moved in to hug him.
Moments later, they exited the men’s room, Miller now wearing the T-shirt.
“Suits you”, said Scully, who had just come to look for them.
“Did you find out what you wanted, Agent Scully?”, Miller asked.
“It would appear that our John Doe was died from digitalis poisoning”, replied Scully; “Agent Mulder is going to be very excited about this”.
XXXXX
WASHINGTON, DC
“We’ve just closed” said Barbara, as the man in military uniform entered Wyndham’s.
The customer did not heed this, and walked towards her.
They’re coming for you, Barbara, her brain was telling her.
“Sorry”, she repeated; “do come again”.
The man grabbed her wrist, and looked her in the eye.
Without flinching, she replied: “We are closed now, but we open at 7 sharp tomorrow. I hope to see you tomorrow”.
Adam 9 tightened his grip: “I’ve not come to get a coffee, Barbara - or should I say Eve 6? I’ve come for you”.
“Do have a nice day”, Barbara smiled.
“Oh, what have they done to you?”, Adam 9 frowned; “you’ve become a regular Manchurian Candidate”.
As he tightened his grip, an older woman - the café manager - appeared from a door at the back.
“Is everything okay, Barbara?”, she asked; “is this man bothering you”.
“She’s perfectly fine”, said Adam 9, pulling out his previous victim’s gun, and shooting the manager point blank in the head.
Sometimes, you had to go for the old-fashioned methods of dispatching unwanted people.
XXXXX
“We’re still waiting for dental records to confirm who our John Doe is” said Scully, as Mulder prepared the evening’s dinner, “but the fact that the man was killed with digitalis definitely points towards the Eves being involved”.
“So, all we need to know now is their motives”, Mulder replied.
“Einstein and Miller say that clothes were found in the dumpster outside”, Scully added; “nothing out of the ordinary, except that the pants pocket had a small vial in, which the lab confirmed had traces of digitalis inside”.
“So, despite their heightened intelligence”, Mulder grinned; “they still don’t know how to conceal evidence properly”.
It was at that point that they heard a loud knock on the door.
“Did you invite Skin Man round?”, Mulder asked.
Scully shrugged, as Mulder went to answer the increasingly loud knocking.
He was surprised at who stood at the door, wearing the same black suit as he had on their previous meeting.
“I met you, back at Christmas” said Mulder; “you’re the man from the train”.
“I don’t know where you think you know me from”, said the visitor; “maybe you’ve met one of my ‘brothers’, so to speak. My name is David Greendale, but you can call me Adam 5. You need to listen to me; it’s later than you think”.
XXXXX
Edit: Okay, actually it's so long, I've got to split it into two posts.