From drjudd@rainbow.net.au Fri Aug 30 08:45:25 1996
OFFSPRING
DESLEA R. JUDD
drjudd@rainbow.net.au
Copyright 1996

DISCLAIMER

This book is based on The X Files, a creation of Chris Carter owned by
him, Twentieth Century Fox, and Ten-Thirteen Productions.  Fox Mulder,
Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, and a number of lesser characters including
Bill Mulder, Mrs Mulder, Samantha Mulder and her clones, Maggie Scully,
Melissa Scully, Captain Scully, Sharon Skinner, Kimberly Cooke, the
Cigarette Smoking (Cancer) Man, the Well Manicured Man and his offsider,
Frohike, Quiqueg, Gautier, Jean Gautier, Ellen, and Alex Krycek remain the
intellectual property of those parties.  A number of other characters are
the author's creation and are copyright, and may not be used without her
written permission.  These include but are not limited to Dr Karen
Koettig, Agent Grbevski, Melissa Samantha Scully, Grace Skinner, Clone 1
(Cynthia), Clone 3 (Carolyn), Clone 4 (Catherine), Dr Sam Fieldman, Dr
Paul Sturrock, Dr Marion Pieterse, Wendy Tomiris, Serena Ingleburn,
Amarette, Dr Jillian Maitz, Hallie, and Emily Trent.  Any queries
concerning ownership of minor characters not mentioned here should be
directed to the author.

(See Pt 1 for complete spoiler, content, and comments info).

A few spoilers from Pilot, Duane Barry, Ascension, One Breath, Colony,
Endgame, Anasazi, Blessing Way, Paper Clip, Nisei, 7.31, Piper Maru,
Apocrypha, and Avatar.

I've rated this book R just to be on the safe side, but I think it's more
PG-13, in truth.   There's some low-level sex (three scenes, more
emotional than anatomical), low-level bad language, low-level violence,
and that's about all.

Comments, good and bad, are welcome; but make sure they're constructive,
please!  My e-mail is drjudd@rainbow.net.au, but don't worry if you see
something else in your "reply" header like magna.com, because Rainbow.Net
shares a server with another ISP called MagnaData.  And if you think my
work's worth stealing, I'm flattered; but don't even think about it. 
Archivists, feel free to add this to your collections; but be sure to let
me know.

OFFSPRING BY DESLEA R. JUDD (7/18)

THREE CONTINUED

Room 6.04
Georgetown Medical Centre
Washington, D.C.
December 16, 1996

	    They found Serena Ingleburn two weeks later.
	    She had been sighted on a number of occasions, and fearful for the
safety of the other patients in the event of a fire, Mulder had had Marion
Pieterse moved to a room in a disused garden wing of the Center.  This
wing had the advantage of being accessible to fire crews and containing no
oxygen or other equipment which might pose an explosion hazard in the
event of a fire.
	    Unfortunately, of course, it was also more accessible to Ingleburn.
	    This time, she was easily apprehended and placed in a room at one end
of the wing until Mulder and Scully could get there to question her.
	    They arrived at midnight and were shown in.  The guards, at Mulder's
insistence, were armed not only with weapons but with fire extinguishers;
but neither had been needed.  Serena Ingleburn had been a model prisoner.
	    In fact, when the two of them entered, she seemed to have little
comprehension that that was what she was.  She greeted them with a hand
and a maidenly smile as though she were welcoming them to her home, though
she was somewhat more tentative with Mulder than with Scully.  <> Scully thought.  It was
against protocol, but both took the proffered hand automatically.
	    "Ma'am, are you Serena Ingleburn?" Scully asked, respectfully.
	    The old woman inclined her head slightly.  "I am."
	    "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and this is Agent Mulder, Ma'am. 
We're with the FBI."
	    There was a faint smile across her lips which didn't quite reach her
old, old eyes.  "I know who you are."
	    Mulder spoke up.  "Do you know why we're here, Ma'am?"
	    The elderly woman nodded.  "I do," she said, "but why don't you tell
me anyway, young man?"
	    "I will warn you that anything you say may be used against you,"
Scully said, wondering whether the woman had enough knowledge of the world
to know her rights.  "You can have a lawyer, if you wish."
	    The smile did reach Ingleburn's eyes then.  "They say that on the
television when they arrest someone, don't they?" she said with a
twinkle.  "Am I under arrest, Miss Scully?"
	    Scully shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.  "Not at this
time."  Her smile faded.  "But you are in some trouble, you must know
that."
	    Mulder's brow creased.  What the hell was she playing at?  They were
supposed to be interrogating the woman, not babysitting her!  
	    He shot Scully an annoyed look, but the expression on her face
stopped him from butting in.  There was a firmness there, as well as
respect.  Scully knew how to handle those of older generations, he
suddenly realised; and she knew what she was doing.
	    Ingleburn nodded.  Scully went on, "Ma'am, are you here to kill Dr
Marion Pieterse?"  The straightforwardness of the question stunned
Mulder.  Surely she didn't think the woman would say yes!  
	    But Serena Ingleburn was of another time, another era; and she
scorned to lie.  She inclined her head faintly.  "That's so," she
admitted, her voice steady.
	    "Why have you waited?" Mulder asked.  "You've been about for weeks. 
And its obvious that you don't care if you're caught."
	    "I didn't want to hurt anyone else.  You've served my ends rather
well by moving her, young man."
	    "Why?" he demanded, suddenly angry.  He felt as though he'd been
second-guessed by this fluffly little old woman, and he didn't like it.
	    "You know why," she replied calmly.  "Or at least the young lady
does.  She told Marion.  I heard her."
	    "Then you also heard what I said about justice...and the difference
between justice and revenge," Scully said gently.
	    Serena Ingleburn met her gaze.  "Young lady, can you assure me that
Marion Pieterse will be brought to justice?"
	    Scully bowed her head.  She was silent for a long moment, before she
admitted, "You know I can't."
    	"Then I'm sorry."  There was finality in her voice.  "Very sorry."
	    Serena Ingleburn closed her eyes for a long moment, and then there
were shouts from down the corridor.  Mulder leapt to his feet and dragged
open the door.  Staring down the hall, he saw the guards rip fire
extinguishers off the wall and rush into Pieterse's room.  He turned back
to Ingleburn and shouted, "What did you do?"
	    Scully was staring at Ingleburn, who opened her eyes once more,
winked at her, and closed them again.  Suddenly understanding, she cried,
"No!" and ran to the extinguisher on the wall.  She pulled it down,
pointed the hose at Ingleburn, and sprayed her with foam; but it was too
late.  She had burst into flames before their very eyes.
	    Mulder grabbed another canister from the wall in the corridor and
sprayed the elderly woman; and when that failed, he pulled off his coat
and threw it over her.  It was no use; the flames seemed to be coming from
deep within her.
	    Seeing the futility of it, Scully pulled him back then, frightened he
would be hurt.  "Mulder," she cried.  "Mulder!  You can't stop it!  And
even if you could, do you want to?  Do you want her to live?  For God's
sake, show some humanity!  Let her go!"
    	Mulder stared at her mutinously for a moment; and then he nodded,
conceding defeat.  "All right."
    	Scully simply turned away and left.
    	He found her some time later in the cafeteria.  She motioned for him
to sit.  "Well?"
    	"Pieterse's dead," Mulder replied shortly.  "Ingleburn - well, you
saw Ingleburn."  He looked at her with interest.  "Did you know she would
do that?"
    	She shook her head with an air of exhaustion.  "Not until that last
second, when she closed her eyes the second time."  Her voice was
regretful.  "I should have known."
    	His voice was gentle.  "You couldn't have known.  And if you had, you
couldn't have stopped it.  And if you could have, would you?"
	    Damn him for quoting her back to her!  She smiled in spite of
herself.  "No.  None of them should have lived so long.  It was right for
them to die.  There are some things in life, Mulder, over which humans
have no right of control."
	    They were words which would return to haunt her later.

Alexandria, Virginia
December 17, 1996

	    The phone rang.
	    Mulder opened his eyes, groping for it.  He found it and,
reluctantly, flipped it open.  "Mulder."
	    "It's me."
	    "Do you know what time it is, Scully?"
	    "Mulder, it's eight in the morning!  You can't still be asleep."
	    His voice was chagrined.  "No, not anymore."
	    She ignored him.  "I'm just going over to Kuringai Power Plant to
tell Wendy Tomiris that Pieterse's dead.  Damn that homophobic hospital,
they didn't think to call her!  I'll probably pass you on the way back. 
Do you want me to swing by and give you a lift in, if you haven't already
left?"
	    "Yes, Scully.  You do that.  Bye."
	    Scully hung up, raising her eyebrow.  He had actually consented to
travel in a car with her at the wheel!  She'd have to remember that next
time she needed a favour.  "So, Mulder's a soft touch when he's half
asleep," she said to herself with a grin.  It bade well for future
successes.
	    It was going to be a good day.

	    The phone rang.
	    Mulder opened his eyes, groping for it.  Muttering something about
deja vu, he found it and, reluctantly, flipped it open.  "Mulder."
	    He glanced at the clock.  "It's Kimberly Cooke from the Director's
office, Agent Mulder," he registered dimly in the background at the same
time as the rest of him was mentally screaming, <>   
	    Jumping to his feet, he pulled a shirt around him and started
buttoning furiously.  "Yes, Kimberly?  Listen, did I forget about some
meeting or other with him?  I've been working from home today," he lied,
"and-"
	    Kimberly cut him off as he pulled a pair of trousers from a hanger
and yanked them on, nearly tripping over in the process.  "No, Agent
Mulder, it's nothing like that.  A.D. Skinner asked me to call you.  We've
had some distressing news."
	    Mulder frowned.  <> news didn't worry him - that was usually
just a matter of political inexpediency.  But when cool, efficient Kim
Cooke started using words like <>-  "What is it, Kim?"
	    "The A.D. didn't give me any details, but it seems there was an
accident of some kind.  Agent Scully's critical.  She's in ICU at
Georgetown Medical-"  Mulder cut her off.
	    "I'll be right there."

Intensive Care Unit
Georgetown Medical Centre
Washington, D.C.
December 17, 1996

	    Mulder burst through door.  "Sir?  I came as soon as I heard."
	    Skinner was sitting beside Scully's inert form, one hand linked in
hers and the other over her stomach.  He looked up. "Oh," he said, as
though he didn't quite remember who the younger man was.  "Agent Mulder."
	    Mulder said desperately, <<"What happened?">>
	    Skinner was silent for so long that he thought he hadn't heard.  But
finally, he responded; his voice distant and toneless.  His voice was raw
with pain.  "I got a call.  The paramedics found her Bureau I.D.  They
wouldn't tell me what was wrong.  I went out there and she was in the
ambulance.  She was throwing up and disorientated.  They flew her here
from the local hospital in Kuringai.  Sometimes, she recognised me; but
towards the end - she was asking for her father, and Melissa-"  He broke
off, shook his head violently as though to clear it.  His voice still raw,
but steadied; he said in a monotone, "She went into convulsions, and then
coma set in."
	    The muscles in Mulder's face twitched as he tried to make sense of
this.  Why, he'd spoken to her that morning!  Even agreed to let her drive
him somewhere!  "But why?" he demanded.  "What the hell happened?"
	    Skinner swallowed and blinked a couple of times, trying to call up
that part of him that could answer the younger man.  Most of him thought
it just didn't matter right now.  "They found her trapped in Kuringai
Nuclear Power Plant with a number of employees.  She was in the waste
disposal facility.  They keep the waste in stainless steel canisters,
lined with glass.  Eventually they get buried at a Federal waste
repository in Nevada, but they keep them for ten years until they've
cooled enough to be safely buried underground."  He paused.  "They're kept
in a purpose-built storage facility with appropriate shielding.  The full
canisters are transported through specially shielded tunnels from the
reactor itself to the storage facility, but the empty storage containers
are transported to the reactor through the main area of the building -
where Dana was."  Skinner leaned back in his chair.  "The plant has been
trialling robots to handle the transportation of the canisters, for safety
reasons.  But there was a brief power outage.  There was a two second gap
before the generator took up the power.  In those seconds, they think, the
information going to the robot reached it in some kind of scrambled or
incomplete form.  It brought back two full canisters, unsheilded, through
the main building.  Security realised what was happening and shut down the
building, trapping it in a staffroom."
	    "And Scully was in there."
	    "Yes.  It was thirteen minutes before they were able to evacuate the
building, shut down the robot, get people in protective gear and shielded
transporters, and get Dana and the employees out.  To be fair, if you can
overlook the monumental incompetence that allowed it to happen in the
first place, that's a pretty good response time."  But Skinner didn't
sound as if he was in the mood to be fair.
	    The older man met his gaze for the first time.  Mulder saw for the
first time how broken he was.  He seemed to have aged overnight.  "She
took over a thousand rem in there.  They can't believe she's still alive -
the others are all dead.  But they say it won't be long.  A few hours,
maybe.  Central Nervous System Syndrome, they call it.  Plain old acute
radiation sickness."  He paused.  "Nausea, vomiting, anxiety,
disorientation.  Then loss of consciousness.  Central nervous system
damage, fluid on the brain, then death.  At least it will be quick.  With
lower levels of exposure, it can drag on for weeks."  He sounded to Mulder
as though he was repeating a script that had been playing in his head over
and over.  In a way, he supposed, he was.
	    Skinner went on.  "They wouldn't let me touch her.  They said she
might be radioactive herself.  The way they were treating her, it was like
she was some kind of leper-" he broke off, swallowed.  "Finally they
established that she wasn't emiting anything, but they still wouldn't let
me too close.  It wasn't until she came here that they allowed that."
	    Mulder was stunned.  He dragged up a chair and sat at Scully's
opposite side.  He put his hand over hers.  He could feel the cool chill
of shock creep over him.  "Oh, my God."
     <>
	    His memories of all that they had endured and lost together came back
to him in waves.  The last few months, they'd both been so wrapped up in
their work and their own problems that they'd lost touch somewhat.  But
she was the one constant in his life.  She was his mentor, his friend;
even his conscience, a little.  He loved her.  It was that simple.  He
loved her, and she was always there.
	    Until now.
	    Skinner looked up at Mulder, accusingly.  "What in the name of God
was a pregnant woman doing in a nuclear power plant?"
	    Mulder said cautiously, "She was notifying the partner of a murder
victim.  Those spontaneous combustion deaths."  He added, "Sir, this
couldn't have been foreseen.  Accidents of this kind are practically
nonexistent.  The danger factor was practically nil.  If it wasn't, she
wouldn't have gone out there."
	    Skinner nodded slowly.  "Practically nil.  Not practically enough." 
He breathed out, slowly.  "All right."
	    "Do you want me to order an inquiry?"
	    He shook his head, suddenly defeated.  "No, Agent Mulder.  That will
happen in due course anyway.  I don't care."  His body slumped.  "Did I
ever tell you that Grace was pregnant when she died?"
	    Mulder shook his head.  "No, Sir."
	    "Well, she was.  They were going to induce her in a couple more
weeks.  They couldn't save Grace, but they wanted to save the baby.  She
hung on for that - and for a lot longer than they said she should have. 
But in the end, she was just too weak.  She let go."  Skinner paused. 
"When Dana got pregnant, I thought at last, there was some justice. 
Another child.  Maybe another wife, one day; although I don't really think
she would ever have married me.  But I was wrong," he finished bitterly. 
"There is no justice."
	    Mulder thought of all that they had lost, all three of them.  "No,
Sir," he agreed.  "There isn't."

	    Skinner found Mulder an hour later, crouched in the nondenominational
chapel.  There was nothing religious about his choice of location,
however; it had simply been the nearest deserted place when he had broken
down.  He was hugging himself, making horrible wounded noises.  He sounded
so like Skinner felt that it was all he could do to keep from joining
him.  Instead, he crouched at the younger man's side and put a hand on his
shoulder.  "Mulder," he said gently, reluctant to break the intimate
moment, but knowing it had to be done.  "There's news."
	    Mulder was silent for several moments while he composed himself. 
"She's gone?"
	    Skinner shook his head.  "They don't understand it.  But it could be
good news." 
	    Mulder turned to look at him, stunned.  <<"What?">>  he exclaimed.
	    Skinner looked into the distance, choosing his words carefully.  "I'm
a bit fuzzy on how all of this works, but as it was explained to me,
radioactivity exists when one chemical reaction sparks off a whole lot of
others.  When the reactions stop, that's when whatever it is stops being
radioactive.  With something like this - gamma radiation - the reactions
never stop; at least not in time as we can foresee it.  But Dana-" he
stopped short.
	    "Go on," Mulder prodded.
	    "Well, they think some sort of reaction took place in her body which
stopped the process prematurely - interrupted it.  The degeneration has
ceased.  Her body is showing signs of recovery."
	    Mulder's voice was alive with hope.  "She's going to live?"
	    Skinner was cautious again.  "I didn't say that.  Her body has been
through a lot.  The vital organs have all been affected.  They don't
normally recover.  There's damage to her heart, her liver, kidneys -
probably the brain, too.  She'll still probably go - and in the
circumstances, that might be just as well."  He paused, reluctantly giving
way to the hope in his own heart.  "But just the same, it's a little
different now.  There's some hope."
    	"Is she conscious?"
    	"In and out.  But she's lucid, which is a good sign for brain
function."  Skinner said gently, "She's asking for you."
	    Mulder nodded.  "All right."
    	The older man helped him to his feet, and they left together.

	    Mulder sat at her side.
	    There were no more tears, now; but his face was twisted with pain. 
Skinner regarded him for a few minutes, then said softly, "I'll try to
phone her mother again."  He rose, and discreetly, he left.
	    Scully was deathly white.  He could see the veins traced delicately
along the backs of her hands.  She was so still.  It seemed impossible to
him that this motionless, frozen woman could possibly awaken...less likely
still that she could recover.
	    And then she opened her eyes.
	    They were a washed-out blue, now; seemingly robbed of their emerald
brightness by her ordeal.  But they were Scully, conscious and alert.  And
suddenly, irrationally, he was sure it was going to be all right.
	    "Hey," he whispered.
	    "Hey," she replied.  Her voice was tender.  "You look like you've
been through hell, Mulder."
	    "That's my line," he said softly.  "Scully-" he broke off, at a loss
to express emotions he didn't understand.
	    She took his hand in hers.  "Mulder, don't.  I'm here, and so are
you.  The rest of it's just words."
	    He nodded silently, holding her gaze; and when her eyes fluttered
closed once more, he kissed her forehead, and left the room.  He watched
as Skinner went back in to her, and leaned heavily against the wall.
	    <>

Coming In Part 8:  Scully And Skinner's Ordeal

-- 
 _______________________________________
|                                       |
|Deslea R. Judd (drjudd@rainbow.net.au) |
|"The Owls Are Not What They Seem"      |
|           - The Log Lady, Twin Peaks) |
|_______________________________________|

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