It Came From Radio Shack
by Kelly Keil

Part 3
See disclaimer in Part 1
________________________


Chapter Four

"My heart is human, my blood is boiling,
My brain IBM."
		Mr. Roboto--Styx



"I can't believe it," whispered Scully to Mulder.  
She looked at Bobby and Carol with horrified 
fascination.

"It's a classic survival response in the face of 
death, Scully," murmured Mulder.  His lips lightly 
grazed Scully's ear and she shivered.  What was he 
up to now?

"But still," she insisted, "I can't believe they're 
doing it right in front of us."

"This is Make-Out Point, Scully.  They're two 
hormonally charged teenagers caught in a stressful 
situation.  It's only natural that they would 
want to release some tension."

Mulder's mouth left Scully's ear and traveled slowly 
down the curve of her neck.  Scully was too surprised 
to object.  Her brain whirled, desperately trying to 
compute what was going on.  "Mulder," she asked, 
"what are you doing?"

"Releasing tension," he replied as his lips met hers, 
effectively silencing any protests that Scully's brain 
might be cooking up.

Mulder was just getting down to business when the small 
part of his brain that wasn't intent on Scully heard a 
crunch.  He lifted his head to listen and felt Scully 
stiffen beside him. 

"What was that?" she asked.  She saw that Bobby and 
Carol had also broken apart and were staring off into 
the distance with wide-eyed horror.

The sound came again.  CRUNCH.  It was like someone 
chewing his way through a gigantic spoonful of Grape 
Nuts.  Scully shivered again, and this time it wasn't 
in a good way.  All of her rational explanations for 
the kids' story were packing their bags and catching 
flights out of town.

"Gerry," shouted Bobby.  "Oh, shit, they've gotten Gerry."

Mulder was the first to break the paralysis that held the 
four of them rooted in place.  He jumped out of the car 
with Scully scrambling out right behind him.

CRUNCH.

Mulder and Scully ran toward the sound with Bobby and 
Carol on their heels.  They didn't have to run very far--
through a copse of trees Scully could see two figures 
crouched.  She and Mulder pulled out their guns and 
approached more cautiously.  

Once through the trees, Scully saw a smartly dressed 
woman clutching Gerry's leg in both of her manicured 
hands.  Gerry's leg, Scully noticed, was no longer 
attached to Gerry.  The woman was tearing into it 
with great gusto.  Without even having to think, 
Scully brought up her gun and screamed, "Freeze!"

The woman looked up from her snack and smiled, showing 
sharpened, bloody teeth.  "Good," she said.  "Good.  
It's you.  Good."

She tossed Gerry's half-eaten leg aside and stood up.

"I said, 'Freeze,'" repeated Scully.  "Don't come any 
closer or I'll shoot!"

"Oh my God," she heard Bobby say.  "It's my history
teacher."

The woman came toward them eagerly.  Scully shot her 
in the shoulder but the bullet didn't seem to faze the 
creature at all. Scully shot her again in the leg, 
only to hear a "ping" as the bullet ricocheted off 
what sounded like metal.  This is crazy, Scully 
thought.  

Mulder had apparently decided that it was time to go 
for a vital shot.  He put three bullets in a close 
grouping right where the woman's heart should have 
been.  Blood poured out of her but still she came 
towards them inexorably.

Scully's mind flashed back to the previous night.  The 
man--all right, let's be honest, the vampire--had held 
Mulder with a death grip.  Scully had shot him in the 
chest twice and the shots should have been fatal but 
weren't.  As Mulder had said later, how can you kill 
what's already dead?  

Scully wasn't sure if she could kill this thing, but 
she had a damn good idea how to slow it down.  She 
aimed for the woman's neck and began firing.   Mulder 
soon followed suit.  Sparks flew as the shots ripped 
into her. It took seven bullets, but finally they 
severed the woman's head from her body.

Scully lowered her arms to her sides and her gun 
slipped from her numb fingers.  She went over to 
Gerry and examined him.  

Bobby dropped down on his haunches beside Scully.  
"Oh, God," he said, swallowing bile.  "Gerry, oh, 
Jesus. . . you'll be okay.  We'll get you to the 
hospital and you'll be just fine. . ."  Bobby kept 
talking to Gerry even though it was already too 
late--Scully could see that he was already dead.  

"He's gone, Bobby," she said.  "I'm sorry."

Carol, hovering over Bobby and Scully, began sobbing.
Bobby rose to comfort her.

Scully sat back on her heels and sighed. She was 
exhausted and covered in Gerry's blood.  She wanted 
to lie next to Gerry and just sleep until all of 
this went away, but instead she stood up and went 
over to the body of the woman.  

"Don't you own a suit just like that one, Scully?" 
Mulder asked.

Scully grunted noncommittally.  She did own a suit 
just like the one on the woman at her feet and she 
vowed to burn it when she got home.  If she ever got 
home.

"Here, look at this."  Mulder handed her the woman's 
head.  "I think this might be the evidence you were 
looking for."

Scully turned the head around and peered inside.  
Instead of gray matter, Scully saw only circuitry 
and wires.

"A robot?" she asked.

"A cyborg, I think," said Mulder.  "Part living 
tissue, part machine."

"But they don't exist . . ." Scully stopped.  She 
should know better by now, she thought.  "Okay, 
fine.  Cyborgs," she said.  "We've given them a 
name, what do we do about them?"

"For starters, you could put me down."

Scully was so startled that she nearly dropped the 
head.  Carefully she turned it around and looked at 
the face.  It looked pretty mad.

"Mulder," Scully asked, "what the hell do you make 
of this?"

"I guess we didn't kill it." 

"I don't think it's alive, Mulder.  More likely this is 
just a glorified computer in a flesh casing.  Rather 
like a more sophisticated version of the animatronics 
you see at Disney World."

"I can't believe you're comparing me to a glorified 
puppet. It's bad enough that you shot off my head.  
There's no need to be insulting," the head snapped.

"Well, then what are you?" asked Mulder.

"I've been enhanced by the master.  Thanks to him I'm 
stronger and better than I ever was as a human.  He 
perfected me."  The face frowned.  "Then you had to 
go and ruin it all.  I didn't even get to finish my 
meal."

"Ms. Robards, I can't believe you tried to eat Gerry.  
And to think I nominated you for Teacher of the Year," 
said Bobby.

"Gerald was a terrible student, Bobby, but as a snack, 
he was perfect."  The head licked its blood-covered lips.

Scully tossed the head to Mulder.  "Ugh.  You hold it."

"I thought I'd never seen the day that Dr. Scully would 
be squeamish about body parts."

"I'm hardly squeamish, Mulder, but talking decapitated 
heads is where I draw the line.  She's all yours."

"Ow!"

"What is it?"

"She bit me."

"She must have a taste for roguish men."  

"Damn it, Scully, this isn't funny."  Mulder pried the 
head's teeth from his finger and shook the head firmly.  
"Look here," he said.  "We don't have to be nice.  
There may be laws against police brutality but no one 
ever said anything about kicking electronics around.  
So if you don't want the four of us to use you for a 
soccer ball, be good."

"The master is coming for you, you know."

"Who is this 'master' person?"

"Oh, you'll see soon enough.  He has plans for you.  
Big plans."

"Plans for us?  What plans?"

"It's not for me to know.  The master is all knowing.  
His will shall prevail, and his will is to have you."

"Well the master better get used to disappointment.  Not 
to mention prison.  Whatever he's doing, it's bound to 
be illegal."

The head laughed.  "You are foolish if you think you can 
withstand the master.  He will show you the true way."

"The true way involves being turned into a machine and 
eating people?  I'll pass," said Scully.  

"You'll see," said the head with a wink.  "He'll show 
you."

"We're not going to learn anything from her," said Carol.  
"She'll do anything to protect him."

"Carol's probably right, Scully.  We should stow the 
head somewhere so we can send it to Langly and Frohike 
to dissect."

Scully tapped her lip thoughtfully.  "I suppose we 
could Fed Ex it in the morning."

"Good idea - OW!"

Mulder had been holding the head by its hair so that it 
dangled in the air around the vicinity of his knees.  
The head had been looking for some sort of opportunity 
and saw Mulder's leg as her ticket to freedom.  She had 
sunk her teeth in when the moment was right and clamped 
down as hard as she could.

Scully and Bobby grabbed onto her hair and tried to pull 
her off of Mulder's leg.  Meanwhile Mulder attempted to 
pry her jaw open.  Suddenly, with a tearing sound, Scully 
and Bobby managed to pull the head off.  The momentum 
carried Scully backward, and she tottered near the edge 
of the cliff.  Bobby grabbed at her and Scully scrambled 
for purchase.  In the struggle, Scully lost her grip on 
the head and it tumbled down the cliff.

"Damn," she said.  "That's another piece of evidence 
lost."

"Forget the head," said Mulder.  "We'll look for it 
tomorrow.  It's not like it's going anywhere on its 
own."  He had his hand clamped over his leg and blood 
streamed through his fingers.  "I don't suppose you 
have some bandages on you?"

"Hold on a second."  Scully dashed to the car and 
when she came back, she was armed with her purse.  
>From it she withdrew gauze, a tube of antibiotic cream, 
and tape.

"I'm impressed, Scully.  Who gave you that purse?  
Mary Poppins?"

"Very funny, Mulder.  After being around you this long 
I'm prepared for anything."

"Even talking decapitated heads?" asked Mulder.

"Maybe not that. Drop 'em."

"Drop what?"

"Lower you pants, Mulder.  I need to look at that wound."

It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but Scully thought 
that Mulder might have blushed.  "Out here in front of 
God and everybody?"

"Carol," said Scully, "turn around.  There.  Problem 
solved."

Reluctantly, Mulder unbuckled his belt and lowered his 
trousers.  "How bad is it?" he asked.  "It hurts like a 
son of a bitch."

"It's nothing a little Neosporin won't cure," she said, 
placing a gauze pad over the shallow wound and covering 
it with tape.  "It won't even need stitches.  Your pants, 
on the other hand, are beyond repair."

"Will you kiss my wound and make it better?"

"I'd only introduce more bacteria into the area, Mulder.  
There, all done.  You'll live."

"What would I do without you, Scully?"

"My guess is that you'd be dead in a ditch somewhere."  
Scully packed the tape and gauze back into her purse.  
"I really think we should look for that head," she said.  
"What if a wild animal takes off with it?"

"Well, I'd feel bad about losing evidence, but I won't 
lie and say I'd shed any tears if she gets mauled by a 
rabid woodchuck.  I was kind of looking forward to 
sending it to the guys, though.  I'd love to see their 
faces when they--"

"Look, are we going to just stand around and talk or 
are we going to do something?" asked Carol.  "We 
shouldn't be wasting our time searching in the weeds 
for that head.  We should go investigate the mansion.  
I'm sure there's lots of evidence there you can use."

"Good point, Carol.  We can investigate the creepy 
mansion then go and check out the motel."  

"Mulder, we can't just go and invade this mansion.  We 
don't have probable cause or a search warrant.  And I'm 
not sure why this can't wait until morning."

"You heard the head, Scully.  This 'master' person has 
'big plans' for us.  Our hotel rooms aren't safe.  
Besides, how could you sleep while this mad scientist 
wannabe is turning people into man-eating robots?  Also, 
I didn't say invade.  I said investigate."

"What if someone's home at the mansion?"

"We'll go and knock on the front door.  If someone's 
there, we'll interview them.  If no one's there, we'll 
look around."

Scully sighed.  Well, when he put it that way. . .  
"All right.  We'll look around the mansion.  If we 
don't find anything, we'll wait until morning, look 
for the head, and see about getting a search warrant.  
Deal?"

Mulder put one arm behind his back and crossed his 
fingers.  "It's a deal, Scully."

"What about Gerry?" asked Bobby.

"I don't think he's going anywhere," said Mulder. 

"No, I just mean that it doesn't seem right to just 
leave him up here," he said.  "I've got a tarp in the 
trunk.  We can wrap him up and take him with us."

Like a gigantic doggy bag, thought Scully darkly.  
"Bobby," she said, "we can't disturb the crime scene.  
And we need to call the police and report this."

"You can't report this!" exclaimed Carol.

"Why not?" asked Scully.

"Dad is the chief of police and he's one of Them!  
Calling the police won't do any good.  Why don't we 
just cover him with the tarp and get out of here?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," said Mulder.  "Any 
objections, Scully?"

Scully pondered.  Crime scene photos needed to be 
taken but her camera was miles away, in the trunk 
of the rental.  The body would need to be taken to 
a morgue, and Scully guessed the closest one was in 
Harpersville.  Gerry would just have to wait until 
tomorrow, she thought.  

"I've got plenty of objections, Mulder, but I don't 
think any of them will do us a damn bit of good.  
Bobby, go get the tarp."  She sighed.  "Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we having fun yet?"

"Not yet, Scully, but when the fun starts happening, 
I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Mulder.  I knew I could count on you."


*  *  *


"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"  The master threw his bowl and 
it shattered against the wall, leaving a trail of 
melted vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce that 
didn't go entirely badly with the wallpaper.

Velda, standing behind him, didn't say a word.  She 
just winced every time number twenty-three's head hit 
a bump and bounced as it tumbled down the face of the 
cliff.  Such a pity.  Such a waste.  

"Go retrieve the head," said the master bitterly.  "We 
might as well see what we can salvage."

"Yes, Master. Do you want me to bring back the body as 
well?"

"No point.  The body's ruined--there's no way I could 
reattach the head successfully.  I suppose we could 
recycle her metal."  The master pondered this. "Nah.  
Evil masterminds wouldn't recycle."

"Good point, Master.  Is there anything else you want?"

"Send in number thirty-two."

"Are you sure, Master?"

"That was an order, Velda."

Velda gave a little grimace of distaste.  "Whatever 
turns you on."  She turned to a brightly lit control 
panel and pushed a number of buttons.  "Taken care of, 
Master."

"Excellent.  Now go get that head."

Velda rooted around until she found number twenty-
three's remote control hidden under an empty pizza 
box.  The master would never learn to clean up after 
himself.  She turned it on and saw the location of 
twenty-three's head depicted on the small screen as 
a flashing red dot.

On her way out the door Velda grabbed a brightly 
flowered bowling bag.  It wouldn't do for her to be 
seen walking down the street with a head tucked under 
her arm.  Not at all.


*  *  *


Chapter Five

"I'm just a man who needed someone,
And somewhere to hide."
		Mr. Roboto--Styx



As they drove by The Lucky Dog Motor Inn on their way 
to the mysterious mansion, Scully looked longingly at 
her hotel room.  There was a bed in there.  The sheets 
were probably musty and the bedspread would have 
cigarette holes in it but it would be a bed, by God.  
A bed.  Scully turned her head away and looked straight 
ahead.  No point in wishing for the unobtainable.

Bobby pulled to a stop within sight of the house, but 
far enough back to try and remain inconspicuous.  As 
inconspicuous as a red convertible could be, at any rate.  
They all got out and stared at the mansion.  

"You kids should probably stay here.  Scully and I will 
investigate."

"No way, mister.  I think we should stick together," 
said Bobby as he wrapped a protective arm around Carol.

Mulder looked at Carol, who was dry-eyed and resolute.  
"I just want this to end," she said.

"It's too dangerous.  I don't want anyone getting hurt.  
Just stay here and wait for us to get back."  

Mulder marched up the front steps of the porch with 
Scully beside him.  The mansion felt empty to him.  
It was just a hunch, but he predicted that no one 
would come to the door and answer their knock.

On the door was a huge brass knocker.  Mulder gave the 
door a few very loud bangs.  Nothing.

"Mulder, what if the occupants are asleep in their beds 
like normal people?"

"Normal people don't get shipments from Radio Shack in 
the middle of the night." He knocked again, louder this 
time.  Still nothing.

"Okay," Mulder said.  "Time to do this the old-fashioned 
way."

He turned around headed around to the back of the mansion.  
Scully trailed behind.  Mulder shone his flashlight on 
the foundation.

"What are we supposed to be looking for?" hissed Scully.

"A way in."

"Wait a minute, Mulder.  We're supposed to be looking 
around the mansion.  That means the area outside of it, 
not breaking in and taking the grand tour."

"If you didn't want to be a party to some good ol'
B and E, Scully, then why did you agree to my plan?"

"I didn't realize you were going to take a broad 
interpretation of what I said.  This could get us in 
a lot of trouble.  I want to be on record as protesting 
this."

"Duly noted.  Now do you want me to leave you here?"

"No."  Scully sounded shocked.

"Then pipe down and give me a hand."

Mulder was delicately prying away the putty from a 
basement window with his pocketknife.  Knowing she was 
already in this mess up to her armpits, Scully sighed 
and helped Mulder pry the window open.  When the glass 
was free, Mulder shone his flashlight into the dark 
opening.  

"Are you ready?"

"No, but I doubt that'll make any difference," grumbled 
Scully.  

"Okay, then, let's go."


*  *  *


"I heard where they're going."

Velda held number twenty-three's head and peered into 
its mechanism.

"Did you?  Play it back for me."

The head's eyes rolled back and a whirring noise was 
heard.  When it was done rewinding, the head looked at 
Velda and the mouth moved, but what came out was a 
man's voice.  "Now I've always been a big one for 
going to the source of the problem.  I think we need 
to go investigate the mansion in town.  Then we can 
check out the motel.  Any objections?"

Velda smiled.  "Good work, number twenty-three."  She 
put the head in the bowling bag and marched back to 
her car.  There was a lot of work to be done.


*  *  *

"I can't believe they left us behind," complained 
Carol.

"I know.  But they're FBI agents.  They don't want 
two kids hanging around."

"Still, Bobby, I don't think it's fair."  She paused 
with her head cocked, and was silent for some time.

Bobby shook her arm.  "Carol?  Are you okay?"

"What?  Oh, yeah, I was just thinking.  We should 
follow them into the house.  I think we could help 
them."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Bobby, his 
voice tinged with doubt.

"Oh, come on, Bobby!  Don't be a wuss."  She grabbed 
his wrist and together they marched toward the mansion 
on the hill.

*  *  *

Scully and Mulder scanned the room with their 
flashlights and stared in amazement.  

"It looks like the movie 'Frankenstein' threw up all 
over the place," commented Mulder.

He moved toward the wall and flipped on the light 
switch, bathing the room in fluorescent white light.  
Mulder and Scully put away their flashlights and 
began investigating the room.   It was piled from 
floor to ceiling with electronic components, strange 
machinery, and junk food wrappers.  

Scully found a large pile of correspondence and began 
to read through it.  Apparently one Karl von Stroheim 
had been trying to submit a paper to various scientific 
journals.  She found a sheaf of rejection letters with 
various curses scrawled on them in red Magic Marker.  
Picking one of the letters at random, she began to 
read.

"Hey, Scully!  Look at this!"  

Scully looked up to see Mulder with his hands held 
to a metal sphere.  His hair stood up in a spiky 
nimbus around his head.  "Aren't you supposed to 
be looking for evidence, Mulder?"

"What is this thing, anyway?"

"It's a Van de Graaf's generator, and the only thing 
it's evidence of is Karl's bad taste in gadgets."

"Karl?" asked Mulder, moving on to the next bizarre 
piece of equipment.

"I think our mad scientist here is Karl von Stroheim.  
Judging by the contents of this room, he's bound to be 
a bit deranged, but I haven't seen any reason to think 
he's up to anything illegal."  Unlike us, she thought.  
We're flagrantly breaking the law.  "Mulder, don't 
touch the Tessla Coil.  You're going to electrocute 
yourself."  

He turned it on anyway, and watched the blue spark of 
electricity play over the wires.  "Cool," he said.  
"I wonder if I could get one of these for my apartment.  
Maybe Frohike could hook me up."

Scully decided to leave him to his own devices.  She 
just hoped that she wouldn't have to drag his charred 
corpse out of there later.  It would be very hard to 
explain to Skinner what had happened.

She concentrated instead on the letter.   After she 
had read it through twice, she flipped through the 
other letters and scanned them as well.  "This is 
interesting, Mulder," she said.

"What is?" he asked, opening drawers in the workbench 
and rummaging through them.  "So far all I've found are 
some chicken nuggets, half a Snickers bar, and an empty 
box of Fiddle Faddle.  This guy sure likes his junk food."

"Listen to this," said Scully.  "'Dear Sir, we regret 
to inform you that we cannot publish your article at 
this or any time.  We consider our journal to be one 
of a serious and scientific nature, while your research 
is frivolous and downright silly.  We, at The Lancet, 
have frankly not stopped laughing since reading your 
submission.  This is the best entertainment any of us 
has had in years.  Perhaps you might try submitting 
your work to a tabloid paper.  We hear they pay well 
for stories such as yours.  In closing, we wish you 
luck and that you not contact us again.'"

"That's harsh," replied Mulder.

"There's about a dozen more like that over here, all 
in a similar vein."

"Are there any copies of the article he was trying to 
publish?"

Scully searched through the papers one more time and 
shook her head.  

"Damn.  Do any of the rejections go into detail about 
his experiments?"

"Not really."  Scully put the rejections down.  "These 
don't prove anything, Mulder.  There are thousands of 
scientists who can't get their papers published.  All 
these rejections prove is that the scientific journals 
find his theories to be..."

"Unsound?" interjected Mulder.

"For lack of a better word, yes.  That's hardly unique.  
There are a lot of crackpots in the scientific 
community."

"Then keep looking.  There's got to be something down 
here to prove he's turning people into robots."

"Too bad we still don't have that head, Mulder."

"I don't know about that," he said with a grimace.  "I 
don't miss it at all."

Scully ran a hand through her hair.  "Look, I don't 
think we're getting anywhere here.  This is just some 
guy's basement hobby room.  To do the kind of procedure 
that you suspect is going on, he'd have to have a 
fully functional operating room."

"What about all those shipments from Radio Shack?"

"What about them?"

"They've got to be around here someplace.  I think that 
what we're looking at here is just window dressing.  We 
need to search the rest of the house."

"Couldn't we just wait until tomorrow?"

"We should strike now, while the iron is hot, Scully.  
No rest for the wicked."  Mulder walked over to the 
door that led out of the workroom and held it open 
for Scully.

"If that's true, Mulder, then it's amazing you get any 
sleep at all."

Mulder just chuckled and followed her out the door.

*  *  *

The master crunched on pork rinds as he watched the 
monitors in front of him.  Velda's guests, one Fox 
Mulder and one Dana Scully, were heading deeper 
into his house.  Excellent.  Number fifteen was 
already in pursuit of them.  Even better.

Everything was going swimmingly.

The master brushed crumbs off of his chest and 
grinned.  Those two would be his specimens before 
the sun came up.  

With Fox Mulder and Dana Scully added to his 
collection, it would be less than a year and 
he would be in the black.  A future of champagne 
and gourmet ice cream stretched before him.  Life 
was sweet.

* * *

Mulder and Scully wandered through the rabbit warren 
that was Karl von Stroheim's basement, searching the 
rooms for evidence.

"Well, he hasn't done a good job of separating his 
colors from his whites," commented Scully, examining 
the laundry room.

"No one's perfect.  Why don't you finish checking 
this room while I go further down the hall?"

"Sure," murmured Scully.  Thankful for her vinyl gloves, 
she screwed up her courage and stuck her hand in one of 
the laundry baskets to hunt for evidence.  She'd found 
six dollars and forty-two cents, a parking ticket from 
last year, and candy wrappers galore when she heard 
Mulder shout her name.

"Mulder?"  She asked, hurrying toward the sound of his 
voice.  She turned a corner in the hallway and stopped.  
"Oh, my."

On the door in front of her was a sign, "Karl's Secret 
Laboratory."  Below that was another sign, this one 
bearing a pig in a mud puddle.  "Bless This Mess."

"I'm starting to like this guy, said Mulder, his hand 
on the doorknob.  It turned easily in his hand and he 
started to open the door.  "Are you ready, Scully?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."  She had her gun drawn, and as 
Mulder flung the door open and pierced the darkness with 
his flashlight, she prepared to shoot anything that 
came at them.

Much to her relief, nothing did.  Mulder found the wall 
light switch and flipped it on.  Scully put away her 
gun as the overhead lights flickered into life.  When 
the room was bathed in harsh purplish-white light, 
Mulder and Scully looked around themselves in 
astonishment.

"This is it," said Scully.  "This is the place."

Mulder just nodded.  The room was large--too large
to be contained under the house.  It had to be 
carved into the hillside the mansion rested on.  In
one half of the room a crude operating area had 
been constructed.  The other half was filled with
countless cardboard boxes and computer equipment.  
There was a door barred with a padlocked latch on 
the far side of the room.  Mulder moved toward it 
while Scully gravitated toward the surgical equipment.

He picked the lock on the door in short order and 
flung it open.  It turned out to be not a room, but 
walk-in cold storage.  There was no light so he 
brought out his flashlight again and shone it into 
the area.  Swallowing bile, he called out to Scully.

Scully was by his side in mere moments.  He heard 
her sharp intake of breath as she caught sight of 
the storage room's occupants.  

"How many are there?" she asked, her breath coming 
out in short puffs of steam that hung on the frigid 
air.

"I don't know," Mulder replied.  Side by side, they 
walked deeper into the freezer, counting.  "Ten on 
my side."

"Eleven on mine."  Scully shivered.  The chill she 
felt was only partially due to the temperature of 
the freezer.  She hadn't wanted to believe that any 
of it was true.  Even while inspecting the surgical 
equipment, she'd been formulating rational 
explanations for it all.  Now she was staring at 
proof positive:  twenty-one bodies stacked on shelves 
that lined the walls.  Some of the bodies were whole, 
while others were works in progress, with hideous 
combinations of metal and flesh poking out of still 
open incisions.  "God, it can't be real."

"It's real enough," said Mulder, sounding bleak.  

*  *  *

As they moved deeper into the basement of his house, 
the master had lost sight of his quarry on the 
monitors.  Impatient for knowledge of the their 
whereabouts, he went over to his computer to 
communicate with number fifteen.

Bringing up the program, he typed, "Where are they?"

Number fifteen's reply marched across his screen.  
"They've entered the lab, Master."  

"Excellent, number fifteen.  Stay where you are--I'm 
sending Velda your way to help you.  Between the two 
of you I expect you not to fuck it up.  I'm counting 
on you, number fifteen.  Don't let me down."

"No, Master, never.   Never, ever, never."

"That's quite enough.  Now sit tight."

The master logged out of the program and called 
Velda's cell phone.  

"What is it?" she snapped.

"Velda, you should know better."  The master sounded 
deeply wounded.

Velda sighed.  "I'm sorry, Master.  What is your 
bidding?"

"Number fifteen has our two pigeons caged in the 
laboratory.   How far away are you from the house?"

"Ten minutes, tops."

"Well get your ass over there and get them for me, 
Velda."

"Yes, Master," she grumped.  

"Watch that attitude, Velda," said the master, and 
hung up.  Really, it was so hard to find good help 
these days.

*  *  *

Scully had gone into scientist mode.  "I've got to 
see how he's doing this."  

"I'll just go over there and check out the computer, 
okay?" asked Mulder, not wanting to play lab assistant 
while Scully went about her grisly investigations.

"Whatever," she said absently.  "Would you help me move 
this body onto a gurney before you escape?"  She 
unwrapped a particularly mutilated form.

Eyes averted, Mulder complied, then gratefully fled to 
the computer while Scully pushed the gurney to the 
surgical area.  He turned on the computer and waited 
impatiently for it to boot up.  Mulder hadn't the 
foggiest idea where to search--he wasn't even sure 
what he was looking for.  A folder marked "security" 
looked promising so he clicked on it and was surprised 
when a diagram of the mansion popped up.  He saw that 
there seemed to be a room off of the one they were in, 
but the wall it was beyond didn't have a door in it.  
He was musing on the possibility of a secret passage 
when a red flashing warning appeared on the screen.  

"Car approaching!"

Mulder clicked on the warning and a window opened up, 
showing the outside of the house.  He could see a Ford 
Pinto pulling into the driveway.

"Oh, shit!  Scully!  We've got to get out of here."

Scully looked up from the body.  "This is just amazing, 
Mulder.  I wouldn't have thought it possible, but--"

"Scully, someone's coming.  I just saw it on the 
computer."

She looked around them with wide eyes.  "There's nowhere 
to go, Mulder."

"Well we can't just stay here.  We need to find 
somewhere to hide, at least."

Scully tore at the mask and surgical gown she had 
donned earlier.  In seconds she was free and 
following Mulder out the door of the laboratory.  
A few turns down the corridor and Scully spotted a 
staircase she hadn't noticed earlier.  

"Do you think we could risk it?" she asked.

"Maybe, if we're--" Mulder was interrupted by the 
slam of a door.  The person had entered the house.  
Mulder and Scully started toward the stairs when the 
stairwell was flooded with light.  "Oh, shit," said 
Mulder.  "They're coming down here."  

"Look," hissed Scully.  There's a closet under the 
stairs.  We could hide in there."

It seemed as good a plan as any, so they hurried over 
to it, opened the door, and shut themselves into the 
darkness.  Hardly daring to breathe, they waited.

*  *  *

Velda, having found the laboratory deserted and 
number fifteen nowhere in sight, went from room to 
room, switching on lights and thoroughly searching 
each one.  Where was number fifteen anyway?  Useless 
robot.

Velda found number fifteen in the master's playroom.  
"What're you doing here?" she demanded.

Number fifteen pointed toward the window.  "That's 
where they got in.  I thought they might go out the 
same way."

Velda shook her head.  Stupid robot.  "They're hiding, 
fifteen.  Biding their time.  We've got to flush them 
out.  Come on and help me find them.  Waiting here 
won't do any good.  Master isn't gonna be happy if 
we fuck this up."

Both woman and robot shuddered.  The master's anger 
was not to be contemplated.

"Yes, Velda," said number fifteen.  "Let's find them.  
The sooner, the better."

*  *  *

Scully hadn't gotten a good look at what was in the 
closet before she and Mulder had rushed in.  Boxes 
and cleaning equipment, if her impressions were 
correct.  It smelled faintly of bleach and dust, 
making Scully's nose crinkle up with the need to 
sneeze.  She held her breath, hoping the urge would 
pass, but instead the itch got worse and worse.  She 
put her face in the crook of her arm and tried to 
stifle the sneeze as much as possible.  

"Are you all right?" asked Mulder softly.

"No," she whispered back.  "I'm going to sneeze again."

Mulder enfolded her in his arms and put his back to 
the door of the closet.  He hit his head on the 
ceiling and stifled the urge to cry out.  

"Mulder, what are you doing?" hissed Scully.

"Sneeze on me.  I'll muffle the sound."  Mulder 
surrounded her as much as possible, trying to be 
human soundproofing.  Scully buried her nose in his 
chest and breathed slowly.  The urge to sneeze 
passed and Scully became aware of how close she was 
to Mulder.  When was the last time they had been 
this close?  She couldn't remember.  

Scully tried to take a step back and found she 
couldn't.  "Mulder...I'm okay now," she whispered.  

Mulder didn't step back.  

"Uh, Mulder--"

"I'm sorry, Scully," he said into her hair, "but I'm 
afraid to move.  I don't want to knock something over."

That made sense.  She felt so awkward, though.  She 
didn't know where to put her hands, for instance.  
She put one out for balance and grazed Mulder's leg.  
He flinched and she quickly withdrew her hand.  The 
movement put her off balance and she tottered on her 
high heels.  Mulder embraced her again and this time 
Scully clung to him, fearing to fall in this pitch-
black space.  Giving up, Scully leaned into him and 
closed her eyes from weariness.

"Mulder, I'm so tired," she murmured, stifling a yawn.  

"I'm sorry, Scully," he replied, resting his chin on 
her head.  "I owe you a week's worth of sleep for 
this."

"I've heard that before."

"I mean it this time."

Mulder smoothed her hair with one hand and rubbed 
her back with the other.  Scully was so tired that 
she felt she could fall asleep right there.  Mulder 
smelled so nice, and it was very warm in the little 
closet.  As if she were in a dream, she felt his lips 
find her forehead and trail a path down to her eyes 
and nose.  'A very nice dream,' she thought, and 
sighed with contentment.  Mulder's lips dipped down 
to capture hers and she saw stars bloom behind her 
tightly shut eyes.   In the drowsy darkness it seemed 
the most natural thing in the world for her to bury 
her hands in his hair and pull him closer.  He groaned 
into her mouth and somewhere in the back of her mind 
she realized that this was not a dream after all.  
Scully pulled back and drew in a ragged breath.  
Mulder bent his head and grazed his lips along her 
throat.

"Mulder..." she sighed.

"What are you two up to?" asked a voice as the closet 
door was flung open.  Mulder and Scully were blinded 
by the light poring in through the doorway.  Scully 
threw up a hand to shield it from the glare.

"Carol," she said in relief.  "What are you doing in 
here?  We told you and Bobby to stay outside."

"Get in here," said Mulder.  "Someone's searching the 
house.  I don't want any of us being found."

Carol giggled.  "Too late."  She put two fingers into 
her mouth and let out a piercing whistle.  "Velda!  
I've found them."

Before either Mulder or Scully could react, Velda 
came around the corner.  In one hand she held a very 
large pistol.  "Good work, number fifteen," she said.  
"Master will be very pleased."  

Velda looked at Mulder and Scully with suspicion.  
They had ordered separate rooms, but here were the 
two of them, hidden in a closet and standing very 
close to one another.  Granted, the closet was small, 
requiring that the two be friendly, but that didn't 
explain the love bite on the woman's neck.  

Velda ground her teeth.  It wasn't fair.  All the 
good ones were always taken.  Well, not this time.  
Before either Mulder or Scully could react, Velda 
grabbed Scully by the hair and dragged her out of the 
closet and buried the muzzle of the gun in the base 
of her throat.

"No!" Mulder shouted, starting to lunge toward Velda.

She brought him up short.  "Cooperate, Mr. Mulder, or 
I'll kill your little friend here.  Carol--get the 
ether."

Scully tried to break free, but Velda had too firm a 
grip on her hair.  

Mulder clenched his hands into fists.  He felt helpless 
seeing Scully held at gunpoint and he hated feeling 
helpless.

"Let her go," he said.  "You don't want to do this."

"Shut up.  We've got plans for the two of you."

Carol stood on tiptoe to put the ether over Mulder's 
nose.  He started to dodge but Velda brought him up 
short.

"Stand still or I'll shoot your little partner."  She 
dug the gun more forcefully into Scully's throat.

Mulder froze, allowing Carol to put the cloth over his 
nose.

"No!" cried out Scully.

"It's your turn, lady," said Carol, and the smell of 
ether filled her nose.

As she fell into unconsciousness, she thought, it's a 
dream.  It's just a dream. 


*  *  *

End Part 3/4

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