A Starman / X-File story By Zena Uzep
Crazy Like A Fox is an amateur production for the enjoyment of Starman / X-File fans and is in no way intended to infringe on copyrights held by ABC-TV, FOX-TV, Henerson-Hirsch, Chris Carter, Michael Douglas Productions, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Columbia Pictures. All similarities to real characters and actual events are strictly coincidental. This material may not be copied or reproduced in any form without express written consent of the author. Copyright January 1999. All rights reserved.
Special thanks to Helen Adams and Lynda Sappington. You ladies are the greatest. I couldn't have done this without you.
Fox Mulder sat at his cluttered desk in the tiny basement office of the FBI building. Munching on salted sunflower seeds, he reread the data on the latest X-file to come to his attention. Of all the cases he and his doctor/scientist partner, Dana Scully, had investigated, this one held special interest for him. There were two reasons. One was their names. Mulder smiled at the coincidence of two alien chasing federal agents sharing the same name, at least in part. Secondly, according to the report in front of him, the agent from the Federal Security Agency had proof of the existence of a being concerning the subject of his passion: alien life. Not the illegal kind. The extraterrestrial kind. Little green men from outer space, only the subjects of this case were neither little or green. Fox Mulder wondered whether George Fox received as much ridicule as he did for his beliefs in interstellar life.
Mulder typed in the subject's name, last name first, into the computer and waited. After a few moments, the requested information came up. FORRESTER, PAUL E. SPECIAL PRIORITY CONTACT: FEDERAL SECURITY AGENCY 202 555-3771 AGENT: GEORGE FOX. Before dialing his half namesake's number, Agent Mulder requested further information on Paul E. Forrester. The machine rewarded him with a black and white, front and side profile photocopy mug shot with Forrester's processing number from a previous arrest. Now that's odd, he thought as he noticed something else. There was no violation charge listed.
Federal Security Agent George Fox rummaged through the latest tabloid newspapers hoping to find some evidence of the alien's handiwork. Several times before, these trashy newspapers, if you could even call them that, had provided a positive lead. Simple pictures taken by the alien, picked up by the wire services and published, had betrayed Forrester's whereabouts. Each time, though, Fox's quarry had managed to escape before he could apprehend it. After Fox had his partner, Benjamin Wiley, set the wheels in motion to catch the Starman, he would study the photographs. George would never admit it to anyone, but he was secretly impressed with the pictures the alien took. They showed a different perspective than the work of the original Paul Forrester's had, but they were every bit as good. Sometimes even more so. The telephone on George's desk rang and he answered it with excited anticipation. Maybe this time, he thought.
"George Fox?" the male voice on the other end inquired.
"Yes, this is Fox," the agent replied. "Who is this?"
"Fox Mulder here. FBI."
"What can I do for you, Mr. Mulder?" George asked as his heart began to pound with an adrenaline rush.
"I'm working on a case here that may involve a man by the name of Paul Forrester. I typed in an inquiry and I see he's wanted by your agency," Mulder said.
George could hardly contain his excitement. "Yes," he replied and quickly asked, "Do you have him in custody?"
The emotional high turned to familiar disappointment as he heard the FBI man answer, "Sorry. I'm just investigating the case at the moment. May I ask what he's wanted for?"
"I'm afraid that's a national security matter, Agent Mulder. The case is classified. Need-to-know basis unless you have the proper security clearance," Fox said. "You understand."
"No, I don't. Now let me get this straight. The charge is classified?"
George ignored the man. It was his turn for questions. "May I ask what case it is you're working on, and what the FBI's interest is in Paul Forrester?" The FSA agent listened closely, hanging on to every word as the other agent began to explain.
"First, Mr. Fox," Mulder said, "my work specialty is the paranormal. You know, strange occurrences, unexplained phenomena, that kind of thing. My research indicates you have a similar interest. Perhaps you've heard of the X-files. I've got a report here of a sheriff and three campers missing, and an unusual sighting of blue lights around the area where they disappeared. I just wondered if you could help me with my investigation."
"Where and when did this happen?" George asked, anxious to know.
"The police report says Washington state, Mt. Hawthorne region," Mulder replied. "It was just a few days ago."
"Back to the beginning, Forrester, eh?" George Fox murmured softly.
"Excuse me? I didn't catch that," the FBI agent said.
"Nothing. Forget it," Fox said. "Thank you." With that, Federal Security Agent George Fox hung up. After making his own inquiry into the computer and coming up with the same police information Fox Mulder had, he shouted, "Wiley! Get us to Washington. Mt. Hawthorne. Right now!"
"Yes sir, Mr. Fox," Benjamin answered from the other room.
Fox Mulder replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle. "Thank you too, buddy. You were a big help," he grumped. After replaying the evasive answers and rude dismissal from George Fox in his mind, he decided to do more research. He went back to typing inquiries into the computer.
Classified, my ass. Two can play at this game, Mr. Fox. Let's just see how classified this is.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
Paul Forrester and Scott Hayden watched the story of the missing campers and sheriff on the local TV news broadcast in their little motel room. Of particular interest to Paul was the mention of blue lights and the search location. The look of alarm on the Starman's face was not lost on his son. "What's wrong, Dad?" Scott asked.
"That," Paul replied as he nodded at the TV screen. "They said it's on Mt. Hawthorne."
"So?" the boy said, not understanding the problem. "What about it? We're not responsible."
"No, but my ship is buried there," Paul told him.
"What!"
"I said my ship is buried there." "I heard you the first time," Scott said a little loudly as he jumped
off the bed and started nervously pacing around the room. Father and son's eyes met. "What are you gonna do, Dad?" he asked. "If someone finds it..."
"I know what you're thinking, Scott," Paul sighed. "Fox."
"Right."
Starman continued watching the broadcast.
Scott stood next to the bed. After the story concluded, he asked, "Dad? What were those blue lights the reporter talked about?"
Paul looked at his son with puzzlement in his eyes. "I don't know," he answered. "The only way there could be blue lights is if you or I activated our spheres, and we haven't done that." A moment passed and Paul looked again at his son. "Or have we?" he asked, implying the young man might be trying to hide yet another erroneous experiment with the magic marble.
"No, Dad," Scott replied, dead serious. "I haven't even practiced with it. I'm too scared something might go wrong," he added. "You remember what happened the last time I made the spinning blue lights. Besides, we've been nowhere near Mt. Hawthorne."
Paul remembered and felt sad. He wanted his son to be proud and to cherish his alien heritage, not be frightened of it. Before Paul could dwell on the sadness, the boy teased, "Dad, you didn't leave the keys in the ignition switch of your ship, did you?"
The Starman raised an eyebrow in surprise. "No," he said. "My ship doesn't have an ignition switch. At least not like any here on Earth. And we don't use keys," he added, smiling.
Paul could see his son wanted to know more about his spacecraft, so he told him, "It wouldn't glow blue or any other color unless I activated it, and I haven't."
Scott had a disturbing thought. "You think someone found your ship and turned it on?"
"That's not possible for two reasons," Paul reassured. He went on to explain, "There are only two people who could 'turn on' my ship, as you put it. I'm one. You're the other."
"I can turn on your ship?" the boy asked, beaming a wide grin. "For real?"
"Yes."
"Way cool! What's the other reason?" Scott asked, anxiously.
Paul put an arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him closer. "My ship is buried under several feet of solidified lava," he said softly. "It would take tons of explosives to uncover it; if anyone besides me even knew where to look."
That didn't satisfy the boy. "Dad," he countered. "What if someone got lucky and did find your ship?"
Paul didn't want to say anything, but the same thought had crossed his mind. If someone had indeed uncovered his ship, then it was out in the open and in the "ready" mode. Someone tampering with it would activate the ship's defense mechanism. That would explain the blue glow. He didn't like telling his son what he had to do next, but there was no way to avoid it. Finally, he said, "I guess I'll just have to go to Mt. Hawthorne and find out what's going on."
"Dad! You can't!" Scott pleaded. "Fox'll be there."
"I know," Paul responded quietly, trying to calm his frightened son. "But I have to. If my ship is exposed, as you think it may be, then I can't take the chance of Fox or anyone else getting their hands on it." Scott took a deep breath. He resigned himself to the fact that there
was no way he was going to talk his father out of going to the mountain. "Okay then," he said. "When do we leave?"
Forrester knew this was something he had to investigate alone. He refused to put his son in danger. "Scott, you can't..."
"Come with you?" the young man finished angrily. "Why not?"
"You know why," Paul reproached. "It's too dangerous."
Scott let out a laugh, but his father was adamant.
The Starman pulled his sphere out of his pocket and told Scott, "Anytime you want to reach me you can, with this. Take yours out of your pocket and we'll practice your contacting me. Okay?"
That made the boy feel a little better.
++++++++++++++++++
Dana Scully walked into her partner's cramped cubbyhole of an office carrying two cups of coffee and two fresh doughnuts.
"Hope you brought your hiking boots with you," Mulder said as he tossed two plane tickets on the desk for her to see.
"Where are we going this time?" the female agent sighed as she put the snacks and beverages down. "And why?"
"Those things'll kill you."
She grabbed the doughnut and took a bite of it anyway, listening as her partner began to fill her in on the details.
"Twenty years ago, Chequamegon Bay, Wisconsin," Mulder started. "A meteor crashes in the woods. There's a report of blue lights in the area. A young widow by the name of Jenny Hayden is staying at a nearby cabin..."
++++++++++++++++++
George and Ben thought they were alone in the woods of Mt. Hawthorne. As a result, they almost bumped head on into a tall dark-haired man and the attractive red-haired woman beside him as they were coming down the mountain.
"Stop!" George ordered. "Wiley!" he barked, pointing to the strangers with his left hand and pulling out his service pistol with his right.
Mulder and Scully stayed where they were, hands raised. "Out hiking, are we?" Mulder teased with a grin, recognizing the FSA agent from his research. "Not exactly what I'd pick for trail walking," he said, indicating the short man's business suit.
Ben approached the tall man with caution. "Let's see some ID," he demanded as his boss kept the pistol leveled at the man and woman.
Mulder slowly pulled his wallet from his inside jacket pocket. "You always pull guns on strangers?" he replied as he handed it to Wiley.
Ben examined the identification. "Uh, Sir," he said, looking at Mr. Fox sheepishly. "He's FBI. His name's Fox Mulder."
"Agent Dana Scully," the woman offered.
George relaxed and returned his pistol to its holster.
"Sorry, Mr. Mulder," Ben apologized as he returned the wallet.
Federal Security Agent George Fox was not happy. He gritted his teeth as Mulder came to stop directly in front of him. "What are you doing here?" George asked in a clearly unfriendly tone.
"I might ask you the same thing, Mr. Fox," Mulder responded, unfazed by the little man's arrogance. "But let me take a guess," he added. "Does the name Paul Forrester ring a bell?"
George felt his hackles rising. "Where is Forrester?" he asked as he barely controlled his growing impatience.
"I don't know," Mulder told the FSA man with a cold smile. "I can tell you this, though. He's not up there," he nodded, looking back at his and Scully's trail.
George had had enough of the FBI man's belligerence. "You two get out of here," he growled and poked a finger at Mulder's chest.
"Excuse me, Mr. Fox," Wiley interrupted, "but maybe they can help us." "Shut up," George reproached. He continued pressing his authority over
the two FBI agents. "Let me make this perfectly clear, Mr. Mulder. If you should find Paul Forrester, you call me. He's mine. Is that understood?"
"We'll be glad to hand him over to you," Dana cut in. "After we're finished with him," she added, clearly enjoying the opportunity to deflate this overblown windbag of an agent.
Paul Forrester stayed still, hunched behind two large boulders, peeking through the crack between them and listening as the agents argued. His worst fears were being more than realized. It was bad enough one government agency was out hunting for him and his son. Now the FBI had joined the chase!
While George Fox, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully were engaged in the battle for agency dominance and one upmanship, Benjamin Wiley caught a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision. He looked in the direction of the distraction and then he saw it. "Uh, Mr. Fox," he said, his voice rising with urgency.
"What is it?" George snapped, still looking at Mulder.
Wiley swallowed hard. "Look, sir," he said and pointed.
Paul's mouth went dry and a lump formed in his throat when he saw Fox's companion pointing in his direction. The Starman sat back tight against the rocks and withdrew his sphere from his pocket. He was ready to activate the marble and create a distraction, allowing him to make a run for it, when the four federal agents ran past his hiding place without noticing him. Paul turned his head and looked on in disbelief at the retreating forms headed the direction he'd come from. Then he saw the dancing blue lights above the trees.
After waiting several tense seconds to make sure none of the agents would double back, Paul Forrester, extraterrestrial navigator and explorer, stood up. He was about to pocket his sphere when he felt something emanating from the silver ball. It was Scott calling him. "Yes, Scott. What is it?" he asked, sending the message through the faintly glowing marble.
"Dad. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Paul told him.
"What about your ship?" Scott asked. "Is it okay?"
"It's still buried. Nothing to worry about."
"But what about the blue lights?" the boy wanted to know.
"I'll tell you later. Right now I must go." Before he deactivated the sphere he praised his son. "You're getting very good at this, Scott."
Paul started walking towards what the federal agents far ahead of him were chasing at a full run. By his estimation, the lights were a mile away, two at most.
++++++++++++
It was nearly pitch dark when the four federal agents came upon the source of the unusual light display. There ahead, to Fox Mulder's delight and George Fox's paranoiac fear, was a hovering unidentified flying object. The craft just hung there in mid-air, making absolutely no noise what-so- ever.
"Scully. Look at that!" Mulder whispered to his partner as they looked at the unearthly machine from behind the cover of some bushes.
"Quiet!" George Fox snapped at the two FBI agents. "You want them to find us?" There was a hint of fear in his whispered warning.
As the four agents watched, an opening slowly appeared at the bottom of the craft and four beings descended to the forest floor. The creatures spread out and started moving in opposite directions.
"Now what?" Mulder whispered to the other Fox. "One of 'em's coming this way."
George pulled out his pistol.
"Oh, that's real smart," Mulder reproached. "Start shooting. Kill one of them. Then they'll all descend on us."
"Will you shut up!" George whispered angrily.
They continued watching in silence as the tall, wiry, spindly-looking creature came closer and closer to their hiding spot.
Crack! The sound was like a cannon shot in the silent forest. George had noticed that all the animals of the night had stopped singing their songs. Even the crickets, frogs and owls were quiet.
"Sorry," Wiley mouthed as he tried to remove the pressure from the dry branch he had accidently stepped on.
There was a flurry of activity from the aliens at the sudden noise. The one closest to the agents stopped where it stood and made some kind of buzzing noise. Instantly the other aliens came to join it. There was more strange buzzing among the four creatures and then they slowly started moving forward again.
George Fox freaked out. This was his worst nightmare. At least Forrester looked human, but these things were revolting! Triangular shaped heads. Huge black eyes. Slits where a nose would be. The FSA agent stood up and quickly fired his pistol at the creature closest to him. One shot. Two. There was a high-pitched whine from the aliens as two of them fell dead.
George tried to fire another shot, but the gun wouldn't discharge. Then he felt something engulf him.
"Shit!" Mulder swore as he pulled at Scully and tried to run away. Before he took ten steps, Fox Mulder felt himself being held in some kind of force field. He couldn't move at all. It was as if his muscles were frozen. In his peripheral vision he could see his partner was held too. He couldn't see George Fox or the other FSA agent, but he assumed they were being held as well. Fox. You stupid fool, was all he could think as he felt himself being levitated towards the ship.
+++++++++++
Paul Forrester had almost reached the area where the blue lights glowed when he heard two loud pops and froze. Gunshots! Somehow, instinctively he knew George Fox had fired those shots. But at what? he wondered. He quickened his pace.
"Mr. Fox! Help!" Wiley cried out, or at least he tried to cry out, because nothing came out of his mouth. He felt his heart pounding. He had never been so scared in his life. He watched in horror as two of the beings surrounded him and "floated" him into the spacecraft to whatever awaited him. Oh God, please don't let me die, he thought frantically.
Dana Scully couldn't think. Half her mind was in fear and the other half was in awe of what was happening around her. Unfortunately, the fearful half was taking over. She felt as if she could hardly breathe. The light was getting brighter. It was blinding her eyes. Everything looked fuzzy now as she felt herself being taken inside this craft. She sought for something to calm herself and found the answer in prayer. Our Father, who art in Heaven, she started.
George Fox had always wanted to meet an alien, and in fact had, but not like this. Oh God, what have I done? he thought, as two of these ugly creatures placed and fastened him on a cold metallic examining table. Thoughts of Paul Forrester lying on the examining table back at Peagrum came rushing to his mind. It chilled George to the bone thinking what lay in store for him now. That heavy pressure he had felt in his chest all those years ago when Forrester escaped was back, too. How he wished somebody, anybody, even Paul Forrester, were here to help him escape now.
+++++++++++++
Starman stood quietly behind the trunk of a great pine tree and watched the activity ahead. He saw five beings of obvious extraterrestrial origin loading the last of four humans aboard their ship. J'nashta`! he thought with alarm.
The Starman knew many races from his travels throughout the universe. Most of the beings he and his people had encountered or contacted were friendly. These beings were among the few that were not. Though he knew that all his problems with the government just might end right here if the J'nashta` took the humans, especially George Fox, he could not allow it. Paul reached into his pocket and took out the sphere, activated it and began walking ahead to meet the aliens.
One of the aliens noticed a moving blue light coming towards them and sounded the alarm in its buzzing tone. They all stopped to look and saw one of the native inhabitants of this primitive world walking towards them. The creature pulled out its protective weapon and fired at the approaching human, but the weapon seemed to have no effect. The J'nashta` emitted its high-pitched whine and instantly everyone hurried to board the ship, wanting to get to safety as fast as they could. The whine grew to a fevered pitch as the aliens realized they were being held in a force field generated by the being walking towards them!
Paul stopped ten feet away from the group of aliens. Trapped inside a human body, he was limited by its form in what he could do. Human vocal chords could not produce the sounds necessary to speak the J'nashtan language, so he projected his greeting to the creatures telepathically.
The leader emerged from the ship.
"Greetings," Starman projected again.
"Greetings," the surprised creature projected back. "You are not like the other natives of this planet. Who are you?"
Paul projected his real identity to the alien being and saw it stiffen at recognizing his race.
"A Guardian!" It walked up to the Algieban and bowed its head.
"You are J'nashta`," Paul said.
"Yes."
"What are you doing here?"
"Collecting specimens to examine, Revered One," it answered.
"You will cease your operations and leave this planet," Starman ordered.
"But we are not finished collecting," the alien objected.
"Yes, you are," Starman restated with authority. "These people are not yet ready for contact with you or any other non-Earthly species. You will leave them alone."
"Are you here to protect them?"
"Why I am here is none of your concern," Paul replied with growing irritation. "The fact is: I am here. No more questions. Return what you have collected, then go," he commanded.
The alien appeared disappointed and reluctant to give up the specimens, but it also did not wish to anger the Starman whose people it regarded with fear and the utmost respect. "Yes, Guardian," it answered and bowed its
head in acknowledgment. At an unheard signal, all of the subordinate beings hurried into the craft and came out with several animals ranging from a rabbit to a poisonous rattlesnake.
"Where are the humans you have taken?" Paul asked.
The J'nashtan looked at the Starman, then back towards the craft. It quickly decided it was better to lose all the creatures it had collected than to disobey the Guardian and incur its wrath and punishment. It had been unfortunate enough to have experienced a Guardian's punishment before and did not want to experience it again. After a few seconds George Fox, Benjamin Wiley and the other two agents were "floated" outside and laid on the ground by Paul's feet, conscious, but still unable to move. Starman watched the creatures board their spacecraft.
"What have you done to these people?"
"Nothing yet, Guardian," it answered. "They have just been prepared for transport and experimentation. The stun effects will wear off shortly."
Paul nodded.
"One of these primitive creatures terminated two of us," the leader told the Starman. "That one," it pointed, indicating George Fox. "We reserve the right to terminate It."
"No!" Starman boomed. "There will be no termination!" In a softer tone he went on to warn the alien, "The inhabitants of this planet are extremely dangerous when frightened. They will do everything within their ability to destroy that which they fear. If you do not wish to lose any more members of your crew, then stay away from this planet until such time as we determine it acceptable to establish contact. Do not return until then."
"Yes, Guardian," it responded.
"I'll be here watching for you. I hope I do not see you," Starman emphasized.
"May we leave now?"
"Not yet," Paul said. "I have two more questions. There were four other people taken from this area very recently. Where are they?"
"They are aboard our mothership behind this planet's moon," the alien said.
"Have you harmed them?"
The J'nashtan commander seemed to squirm with nervousness. "No Guardian. We have not begun our experiments yet."
Paul felt a great sadness creep over him. "Return them at once," he insisted.
The creature was clearly unhappy, but agreed to the Starman's demands.
Nearly twenty minutes later another ship identical to the first landed beside it. Paul watched as the creatures brought out the three missing campers and sheriff and laid them beside the four federal agents.
"I will be informing the other Guardians of your activity here," Paul said. "You will be hearing from us. Now go."
The alien disappeared inside the ship. Within seconds both spacecrafts shot straight up into the air and were gone.
Paul immediately went to check on the condition of each person starting with the three campers and sheriff. The sphere told him the J'nashtans had implanted tiny crystal tracking/homing devices behind the right ear of each of them. He put them to sleep, then removed and destroyed the devices. Moving down the line, he knelt and touched each agent on the shoulder. The sphere told him they were all frightened. He tried to reassure them, telling them the paralysis would wear off shortly. Paul touched George Fox last. The sphere indicated Fox's heart was in trouble again. Forrester concentrated on healing the agent's faulty pump. "Just relax," he said as he placed his hand over Fox's chest. "I will make the pain go away." Looking into the FSA man's eyes, he could see the fear in them. "Don't be afraid," he said with a smile. "I'm not going to hurt you." Seconds later, the healing complete, Paul asked, "Does that feel better?"
George struggled to speak. With much effort he managed to hoarsely squawk out, "Yes."
Forrester put his sphere away. Before he left these people, there was something he had to say to George Fox. He knew his advice or warning, whichever George would choose to call it, would probably fall on deaf ears. His words always had so far, but he tried again anyway. He repositioned himself by the fiesty FSA agent so the man could see him. "Mr. Fox," he started. "I am not your enemy. My rescuing you and these other people should be proof of that. I'm a friend, whether you choose to believe me or not." He stopped a moment to see if Fox were listening to him. The look in George's eyes told him he had the agent's attention. "Beings like the J'nashta` are a far greater threat to Earth than I am. Trust me, Mr. Fox, more beings from all over the universe will be coming here to visit and explore, especially since you've begun sending probes into space looking for extraterrestrial life. They are eager to meet you. Most are friendly," he smiled, "like I am, but there are a few that are not. I cannot be everywhere to stop the J'nashta`, or other races like them from taking your people. When I can, I will, but some abductions are bound to happen." Again Paul stopped to make sure Fox was still listening. He looked once more into the helpless agent's eyes. "Please, Mr. Fox," he pleaded, "stop wasting your time, energy and money hunting me. There are far better things you could do with your life," he sighed. "This obsession you have with capturing me is having detrimental effects on your health. This is the second time I've repaired your heart. If you continue along the same path, your body will pay the price. You will have another heart attack. Next time you might not be so lucky. I may not be there to help you like I did today." Paul paused a moment to let Fox reflect on his words, then stood up. "I'll repeat myself in case you didn't understand. I am not your enemy. I'm one of the good guys. Do not forget what I've done for you tonight or what I've told you."
"Forrester!" George croaked as he heard Paul walking away.
"Just relax and the effects will wear off quickly," Starman said again. "All of you should be mobile within half an hour. I'm sorry, but I really must go now."
"Forrester, come back!" George cried, louder this time, but the Starman was gone.
Twenty minutes had passed and everyone felt pretty much recovered from their abduction experience. Their joints and muscles were still stiff, but they were able to walk again.
"So, Mr. Fox," Mulder said. "Are you gonna stop chasing Forrester?"
"Never!" the FSA man vehemently replied and started walking.
"Damn fool."
"He can't help himself, Mulder," Dana responded sympathetically. "You heard Forrester. He said the man's obsessed."
"Do you believe he's obsessed?"
Scully took a deep breath. "Well, speaking as a doctor, and judging Fox's behavior so far, I think that man has big problems. He's definitely exhibiting symptoms of paranoia. I also think he needs some professional help."
"What he needs is a compass," Mulder sarcastically quipped. "He's going the wrong way."
"Shouldn't we tell him?" she asked softly.
"Nope," he said as he began walking ninety degrees left of the FSA man's direction.
Dana Scully laughed. "You're cruel, Mulder. You know that?"
"He deserves it," the FBI agent replied, sneering. After a short silence, he said, "So, Scully, what are you gonna put in your report?"
"What are you gonna put in yours?" Dana countered.
"I don't know yet."
One thing Fox Mulder did know was he would keep looking for Paul Forrester. Not for the same reasons as George Fox, but for a personal reason. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, Paul Forrester could help him find his missing sister, Samantha. "Yes, one day we'll meet again, Mr. Forrester. You can bet on that," he muttered softly.
George Fox and Benjamin Wiley stomped through the chilly, dark, forest, totally lost. The campers and sheriff had opted to follow Mulder and Scully after George's openly hostile attitude towards them.
"I'm telling you, sir, we're going the wrong way!" Wiley protested.
"And I say we're right on track!" George snapped. "Our car's right ahead."
"Whatever you say, sir," Ben mumbled, shaking his head. "Sir?" he asked and stopped.
"What is it, Wiley?" Fox replied, exasperated.
"Did you mean what you told that FBI guy?" the agent asked humbly. "I mean about continuing to hunt Forrester?"
"Absolutely."
Wiley stared down at his feet, willing himself the nerve to tell his boss what he had decided to do.
The look was not lost on Fox. "Wiley," he started. "You don't believe what Forrester said, do you?"
The man didn't answer.
"Wiley, Forrester's just the tip of the iceberg. You heard It. We're going to be invaded. We've got to warn General Wade and gear up for the biggest battle in history. After we file our report, Wade's sure to give us more funding to intensify the search for Forrester. We'll catch up with It again soon. When we do, we'll put an end to It and Its contamination."
That did it. Wylie looked directly at his boss. "You're not going to get any help from me, sir!" he said.
"What!"
"I mean, I quit. I'm not going to help you catch Forrester. In fact, I should've quit years ago. I'm gonna tell you something Mr. Fox," he said, hot on a roll. "I do believe what Forrester said. I don't think he's a threat. He is one of the good guys."
"Wiley, you stupid idiot!"
"I'm not finished yet," Ben continued, unwilling to be interrupted now that he was finally getting the emotional pressure off his chest. "How can you forget what Paul Forrester just did for us? He saved us all from being killed. Which, I might add, nearly happened because YOU decided to start shooting at them."
"I might remind YOU, mister, it was YOU who cracked the branch that alerted them to our presence," Fox retorted.
"True. I can't deny that. But neither will I forget that Forrester took our side and stopped them from taking us. We owe him our lives. You, more than anyone, owe him yours. He fixed your heart for God's sake! Are you just going to stand there and ignore what he did for you? Or the warning about your health?"
George didn't answer.
"This foolish quest isn't worth dying for," Wiley said.
Fox had enough. The insult, by his long-time trusted partner no less, cut to the very core of his beliefs. George exploded, pushing Ben back against the nearest tree and pinning him there with one hand on the agent's throat and the other against his chest. "It IS worth dying for, you traitor!" he fumed. "To save humanity from alien pollution is not a foolish quest!"
Oh, God, he's really lost it, Wiley sadly thought. Paul Forrester's right. Fox is obsessed. All he can see is the bad, not the good. Taking George's wrists, Ben shoved his boss' arms out of his way and said, "Have it your way. It's your funeral. As for me, I'm going to thank Forrester and pay him back for saving my life. I'm finished with this crazy hunt. Like he said, there are far better things to do than waste the taxpayer's money chasing him." With that, Ben started walking the direction he'd seen the FBI man go. "You can find your own way out," he called back as he kept on walking.
"I will!" Fox shouted. "And good riddance!"
+++++++++++++
After wandering two days alone in the forest and suffering the embarrassment of having to be found by a search and rescue team, George Fox sat in General Wade's office giving the military man his report. "In light of what happened, sir, I'm requesting further funding and men to aid in the search."
The general sighed. "Well, in light of the evidence you've presented, George, or more precisely the lack thereof," he emphasized, "I regret to inform you this case is being closed." He took a moment to let his words sink in. "I'll admit it's quite a tale you tell, but we've got better things to do than waste more taxpayers money on him. The Appropriations Committee agrees." After a moment he added, "They were going to shut this case down anyway."
"Yes, sir," Fox said biting his lower lip, trying to stop it from quivering.
"Take some time off, George," Wade suggested. "You can use it. Report to me next week for reassignment."
George Fox rose from the plush leather chair and headed out, devastated. No, Forrester. You won't win, he thought. I won't let you win. An idea struck him. As distasteful as it was, perhaps he could join forces with that FBI agent and continue the search for Forrester with him. All on his own time of course. He couldn't let General Wade know he wasn't giving up. Yes. That's what he would do. He headed to his office to give the man a call.
After giving General Wade his version of the alien encounter, Benjamin Wiley was surprised, and secretly pleased, to discover the Paul Forrester/ Scott Hayden case was being shut down. He planned to resign in the event the case were still to be continued. Ben walked out of Wade's office beaming a grin, happy for the first time in years. "Live long and prosper, Paul Forrester," he quietly said to no one as he walked down the hall to Fox's office to clean out his personal belongings.
Fox Mulder finished typing his report to Walter Skinner, his superior. Only he and his partner, Dana Scully, would know the report was missing some information, mainly a name. Paul Forrester's name. He and Dana agreed it was best to leave out the extraterrestrial's involvement in their abduction rescue. As far as the report went, it looked like the J'nashta` had taken and later released them. Paul Forrester was never there. Fox Mulder smiled as he closed the folder on the X-file, putting it away in his overstuffed file cabinet and shutting the door. The phone on his desk rang.
Paul grinned as he opened the door to the motel room where he had left his son and spotted him lying on the bed watching something on TV. "Hello, Scott," he called.
"Dad!" the boy cried and jumped up to embrace his father. "Am I glad to see you!"
"I know," Starman gently replied. "I'm glad to see you, too."
Scott disengaged himself from his father's hug and sat on the bed. "So," he said. "Tell me what happened."
Written by Zena Uzep.