"Snapshot 21:The Icarus Factor" Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and any other tangentially mentioned characters were created by Chris Carter, and remain the copyrighted property of him, TenThirteen Productions, and Fox Television, a unit of 20th Century Fox, Inc. All characters are used without permission, and no infringement is intended. Archivists : Sure. Just make sure to keep my email address and this entire text as is without changes. Feedback : Please. Positive, negative, what have you. Address is drambo@sonic.net Classification : MSR Rating : PG Geographical Note : There is no Court County in Montana, to the best of my knowledge, nor is there a town called Pave Creek. Readers that hail from Big Sky Country, I have created the entire town, it's population and customs out of whole cloth for the needs of this story. I have put Pave Creek in a place where there is no city, or if there is one there, it doesn't show up on my Rand McNally map. :) Enjoy! ----------------------------------------- 22 Mon Bar Road Pave Creek, Montana 0901 Hours Mulder chuffed around the corner of Mon Bar and Dedham Road, spotting his house up ahead. The cool Montana morning air was extremely invigorating, and he mentally patted himself on the back once again for making the decision to go for a jog. Nothing like starting the morning out on the right note, he thought. Not to mention the fact that if he hurried, he had a better than average chance of waking Scully up and perhaps enticing her into the shower to wash the sweat of honest labor from his body. Of course, he reasoned, that would only cause him to create more sweat from, well, if not exactly honest labor, at least honest passion. And that would start the entire cycle again. Ah, well. Such is life, he thought. With about eight hundred yards to go until the semicircular driveway in front of his house, Mulder felt his calf muscles beginning to tighten and burn. It had been a few days...he tried to count...about twelve, actually, since he had gone jogging, and his body was reminding him of this fact quite loudly. It was with only two hundred yards to go when Mulder noticed the young boy standing in the driveway, holding a copy of a book in his hand. Mulder slowed down, knowing that this was Zack Tarses, his reason for being here, his...target. The word felt strange referring to this harmless looking boy, but the truth of the matter was that he and Scully were in Montana for a single reason, and the pimply-faced, squeaking-voice reason was standing in the middle of the driveway. Time to put the game face on, Mulder thought. He put on a last burst of speed and came cranking into the driveway, arms pumping. The boy turned to face Mulder, his face incredibly blank. Mulder's first impression was...calm, serene. As if the boy didn't have a care in the world. "Hi!" Mulder panted, leaning forward, putting his hands on his knees. "Are you David Edwards?" the boy asked. No introductions, no perfunctory, idle chatter. Straight to the subject at hand. Mulder nodded, still panting, still out of breath. "That's me!" "Would you sign my book?" Again, the voice was completely devoid of any detectable emotion. The kind sounded like a robot, Mulder thought. "Sure...give me a minute...." Slowly, Mulder straightened, his hands now on his hips as he walked in small circles, leaning his head from side to side, trying to keep everything loose. "Why do you run?" Mulder considered not answering. "To stay in shape." "You're in perfect shape," the boy observed. "Thanks...but that's how I stay in shape." "Oh." Mulder saw that the conversation wasn't going anywhere quickly, so he turned towards the house, motioning with his hand for the boy to follow. "C'mon. Lemme go inside and get a pen." The boy fumbled at his pocket. "I have a pen." He paused, looking up at Mulder, at the steps leading into the house. "I'd rather not go inside, if that's OK." Mulder nodded sagely. "That's probably a good idea...?" "Zack," the boy said, confirming Mulder's suspicions. "Zack Tarses. But you can call me Icarus." Mulder felt his eyebrows rise. "Icarus? As in flew to close to the sun? Melted his wings?" "Exactly." "OK. Can I call you Ike for short?" Zack's head slowly tipped to the side. Mulder had a sudden comical thought: He looked like a dog listening to his master's voice. "Sure," Zack said after a minute. "I never thought about it like that before...I like 'Ike.'" "You and about fifty million voters." "Twice," Zack pointed out. Mulder laughed, glad that the kid was quick. "OK, Ike, I'll sign your book right now. Don't take this the wrong way...but do you want me to make it out to 'Ike' or 'Zack.'" Mulder saw the look on Zack's face and held up a hand. He moved a little closer and tried to pitch his voice in that man-to-man tone that Mulder's father had tried to use. "Listen...I was your age once. Ike is a pretty cool nickname, especially when you consider where it came from. But you may not always like 'Ike.' If I write it to Zack, no matter how you feel later, that'll still be your name. The choice is yours, Ike." Zack thought about it for a few seconds, and smiled. "Do one on the front, and one on the back?" Mulder grinned. "I like it. Keeping your options open. Good idea." Mulder took the book and the offered pen and opened the front cover. On the flyleaf he wrote, "To Ike, Best Wishes, David Edwards." He signed it with a flourish, and then closed the book and turned it over. He felt his face coloring. He saw the author's picture on the back cover. It had been taken at an FBI Picnic three years ago. Scully was standing next to him, wearing a pink baseball hat, her (then) long red hair streaming out the back. She had a baseball mitt on one hand, and was smiling up at Mulder. Mulder had been wearing an FBI T-shirt, and he was amused to see that they had retouched that out and replaced it instead with the dual images of Beavis and Butthead. Mulder was in the process of bringing a plastic picnic-cup full of beer to his mouth. Beneath the picture was the caption "David Edwards and his wife Karen." He opened the back cover and quickly wrote the same message, only changing the name. He thought a second, and then signed it "David "Fox" Edwards." "Fox?" Zack asked, looking over Mulder's elbow. "It's like Ike. A nickname." Zack grinned. "Is it because you're so 'foxy?'" Mulder glanced at Zack, surprised. He closed the cover and pointed at Scully. "Think you get a woman that looks like that if you're not a fox?" Zack was about to answer when they heard the front storm door close. "David? Honey?" Mulder turned and saw Scully standing on the front porch, a cup of coffee in her hand. She was dressed very casually, in clothes that Mulder had never seen her in before. Jeans, and a blue and red-checkered flannel shirt, and cowboy boots. She looked very...Montana, Mulder thought. "Hi hon," he said, hating the way the words sounded in his mouth. "Come meet a new friend." Scully came down the steps, moving slowly, keeping her hands in sight. Zack watched her approach, his mouth opening slightly as he took Dana's beauty in. Handing the cup to Mulder, who gratefully took a sip, Scully turned her attention to Zack, including the now-famous Scully Smile, all ten thousand watts of it. Talk about bright lights, Mulder thought. "Hi, I'm Karen Edwards." "Hello. I'm Ike Tarses." Scully glanced over at Mulder, her face asking a question. "So, Zack," Mulder said, answering the unasked question as deftly as he could, "why do you like the nickname Icarus?" Turning his attention from Scully to Mulder, the boy answered simply, "I don't know you well enough to tell you yet." Recovering quickly, Mulder said, "Fair enough." Zack smiled thinly at the FBI agent. "I really should be going. Thanks for signing my book, Mr. Edwards." Zack turned to go and had taken a few steps before he stopped and glanced back. "Can I ask you question?" "Sure," Mulder said. "Keep in mind that your answer will probably have a determining effect on whether or not I tell you about Icarus, or whether or not you'll ever see me again." "Uh...sure," Mulder said, suddenly very uncomfortable. In his very limited experience with 15 year old boys, very, very few of them had ever put together a sentence like the one that had just come tripping off Zack's tongue with practiced, simplistic ease. "Do you believe in UFOs?" Mulder almost laughed out loud. Scully did. "What's so funny?" "Mul-" Scully started, and Mulder coughed loudly, spitting out some coffee for effect. "Er...my husband...David...is a charter member of MUFON." "Oh," Zack said, clearly disappointed. He turned again. "Hey!" Mulder called. "Was it the right answer? Will we see you again?" Zack turned back. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mr. Edwards. But after reading your book, I expected a...different answer." "There's only two possible answers, Ike." Mulder said. Zack laughed. "I guess I never expected to hear you say that, Mr. Edwards." "David, please," Mulder said. "David, then." "What did you expect me to say?" Zack walked back slowly, obviously forming his reply. "I expected you to be more like me, David. Those MUFON idiots don't know anything about UFOs. I'm talking about real UFOs, not flying saucers, not Roswell, not Gulf Breeze. I'm talking about real visitations, David. Real abductions. Real close encounters, if that's the phrase you like. I expected you to say that you believe in life amongst the stars, but not like we've seen it portrayed in the movies and television." With that, Zack turned to leave. Mulder saw he was losing the case, and he did the only thing he could think of. "Ask me why I believe in UFO's, Zack." Zack turned back, his features clouding with adolescent anger. "Ike," Mulder quickly corrected. "OKwhy?" Scully knew what was coming, and she prepared herself for it. "Because my sister...was abducted." He paused. "In front of me." Zack's lips twisted into a secret little smile. "What was your sister's name?" he asked. "Dana," Mulder said. It was the first name that came to his mind. "Dana Edwards." And then Zack said something that neither Scully or Mulder would have ever been able to prepare themselves for. His smile was sad, rueful. "Sorry, Mr. Edwards. Never heard of her. She wasn't taken." And with that, he turned and started to walk away again. "Hey!" Mulder called. Zack ignored him, and just kept walking away, his heels dragging a little. He was bopping his head back and forth, as if he was listening to music only he could hear. Mulder started after him, but Scully reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait," she whispered. "Let's go inside." "But-" "Inside, Mulder. We need to talk about this." Mulder looked at the retreating form on Zack "Ike" Tarses and then back at his partner. He nodded, bowing to her judgment. They turned and walked back inside the house, closing the door firmly behind them. *** "Why didn't you let me go after-" Mulder started, almost the second they were inside the door. "Mulder, shut up," Dana snapped, turning left towards the living room. She collapsed onto the deep, incredibly comfortable couch and pointed at the La-Z-Boy that was situated at right angles to it. "Have a seat, Mulder." Mulder moved to the seat, wondering what was on her mind. Scully watched her partner...the man she loved, as he took a seat. She wanted to find the right words to express the emotions she was feeling. "Are you insane?" she started, and then held up a hand. "Wait... that's not what I wanted to say." She considered a moment. "Do you honestly think the world revolves around you, Mulder?" Mulder felt the anger rising in him. No one talked to him that way. No- Wait a minute. "Explain yourself," he said curtly. "Explain myself?! That's what I should be saying to YOU, Mulder! What do you think you were doing, going after him like that? You could have blown our cover!" Mulder sat back, the weight of his shifting body causing the ottoman built into the chair to pop up. Startled, Mulder grabbed the armrests as if the chair were a wild bucking bronco that was trying to throw him. "Mulder...as soon as you got the smallest inkling that he might have some information about Sam, I saw you stiffen up like a bird dog on point! My God, Mulder, you were almost salivating!" A tart, biting report made its way to Mulder's lips, and he bit it back. A thought occurred to him, a quote from Samuel Johnson. "Adversity is the state in which a man most easily becomes acquainted with himself, being especially free from admirers then." "Ad astra per aspera," Mulder muttered. "Excuse me?" Scully asked. "It's Latin," Mulder explained. "I know. 'To the stars through hardship.'" "Scully, I'm impressed!" "Don't be. It's the state motto of Kansas. What does that-" "Oh, it's just something I use...a mantra, if you want. When things like this get to me, when I realize that I'm being a total bonehead, and the only thing I can think about is my precious Truth, I think about all the hardship that Sam's been through...or might have been through...or might still be going through. It's just something I use to remind me what's important." He smiled at his partner, and after a moment, she smiled back. Well, she thought, that's about as much of an apology as I can expect from him. They smiled stiffly at each other for a few seconds. "I'm hungry," Mulder announced. "What's for breakfast?" "I don't know. What do you feel like making?" Mulder shrugged and got up, marching into the kitchen. Throwing open the refrigerator, he saw what he'd been lusting after since he'd returned from his jog. A big, fat, wet, dripping bottle of OJ. Grabbing it, he twisted the top off and tipped it back, hungrily, thirstily gulping the contents. "MUL-DER!" Startled, Mulder tipped the bottle up, and grimaced as he felt the acidic tickle at the back of his throat that told him that unless he swallowed right now, he was going to- He made it. Swallowing, he proceeded to cough, feeling the citric acid burn as it slowly wormed its way down his trachea. "God, that burns," he moaned. He turned. "What-?" "What are you doing?" Mulder shrugged. "Drinking orange juice?" he suggested. "Yes, and straight from the bottle!" Mulder glanced back at the offending bottle in his left hand. "Oh." "Oh," Scully parroted. "Don't do that, Mulder. It's disgusting." "Wait a second. Last night we-" "We what, Mulder? Made love? Yes we did. What does one thing have to do with the other?" "Uh...nothing...anymore." Dana sighed, deeply. "Oh, forget it, Mulder. Do you always drink right out of the bottle?" "Not anymore," Mulder tried, thinking that he might have this relationship thing knocked. Scully's tolerant smile told him otherwise. "Mulder, let me put that another way. If we weren't together, and this were your house, and you were all alone, would you drink straight out of the bottle?" "Yes," he admitted. "Fine. We'll just buy two bottles. One for me and one for you. If you ever want to have sex with me again, you will never, ever drink straight from my bottle. Deal?" "Deal," Mulder agreed. He had no idea what had just happened, but something told him that it was both good bad. "So..." Scully said, smoothly changing the subject. "What do you think is going on with Zack?" Mulder considered that for a moment. "Well, you're the child psychologist. What do you think is going on?" "Hardly, Mulder." She shrugged. "I don't know. He might be delusional, or just in a heightened fantasy state. I'm not sure. I need more time to talk to him. That's where you come in. You're supposed to get close to him. Make sure he comes and sees the Good Doctor Edwards." Mulder nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. "He seemed so sure, though...didn't he? Like he...knew. Like he knew the names of everyone that had ever been...abducted. Taken. He just seemed so...sure." "Mulder, you know the difference between psychopath and a neurotic?" "No." He did, but he could hear the joke in her voice. "A psychopath thinks two and two are five. A neurotic knows that two and two are four, but he worries about it." "So what are you saying?" "I'm saying that Zack is showing slightly psychopathic tendencies, and YOU are a full-blown neurotic, my friend." She walked over and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. "True...but I'm going to put a call into our enigmatic Deputy Stone and see if I can't find out a little more about where Zack Tarses came from." Scully shrugged, knowing that no matter what she did or said, Mulder was going to go and piss Stone off anyway. *** Tel Aviv, Israel Mossad Headquarters The two men sat in the sterile, windowless room and stared across an equally sterile table at each other. The first man had gotten off an El Al flight not more than thirty minutes ago. His face was haggard, because regulations proscribed sleeping while on courier duty. The man was currently assigned to the Israeli Army as a translator/interrogator. He spoke fluent English, Farsi and Arabic, as well as Hebrew. But, like most career intelligence officers in military service across the world, he had been seconded to his country's civilian intelligence service for a year or a two as a way of 'rounding out' his career. It was a signal from his superiors that he was being groomed for better things down the line, that he had General's stars in his future. "What do you have?" the second man asked. His face was unlined, smooth, as if he had not a care in the world. "A packet. From our embassy. Photographs. I did not examine them." If the second man found the statement funny, he showed nothing on his face. Inside, however, he chuckled. There wasn't a career intelligence type in the world worth his salt who wouldn't have taken a peek. "Very well. Let's get this over with so you can sleep." The first man, Avi Golam, quickly worked the combination lock on the briefcase he'd had handcuffed to his wrist on the long flight from Washington. He opened the case and took out the slim envelope, handing it to the second man. "Icarus?" he asked. The first man nodded, and then realized his mistake. His smile was professionally thin, guarded. "I apologize, my friend." "Do not trouble yourself," the second man said, waving his hand. "We trust you, Avi." Avi felt an involuntary shudder run down his back. He knew what happened to people that were not trusted by the Mossad. The second man opened the folder and examined the photographs. Zack Tarses stood in most of the pictures. In one of them he was shooting baskets, although not very well. In another he was eating a sandwich. And in a third he was reading a book. "What are we to do?" Avi asked. "Watch, for now," the second man said. "We have information that an attempt is going to be made to contact him. The American government, as usual, is hindered by factionalism that makes this part of the world look like the results of a successful peace conference. One of our...friends tells us that part of their FBI is fighting with another over the use of the Icarus Device. The boy knows where it is. He knows what to do with it. He is one of us. We will wait until the attempt is made to contact him. When the boy takes the contact to the Device, we will get the device and the boy." "What about the contact? The man from the FBI?" "As long as nothing interferes with our mission?" the second man asked. "Nothing. But if he interferes, he will be dealt with." Avi nodded, wishing a silent prayer of luck towards whomever had been assigned to contact Zack Tarses. Because if he did interfere in the Mossad's operational plans...you would be able to clock his life expectancy with a stopwatch. ----------------------------------------- END CHAPTER 21 If you're already on my mailing list, or have no desire to be, or are not missing any chapters (and don't want them if you are,) please feel free to skip the rest of this. It's all administrivia. End Note - Missing Chapters & Mailing Lists - If you are on my mailing list for "Snapshots" and wish to be, please send a email from any feedback you may or may not care to give. The SUBJECT of this email should be "SUBSCRIBE" without the quote marks. My thingie will take care of it from there. I'm trying to automate this because I get between 30 and 40 requests for missing chapters every day, and I want desperately to keep up with the volume. So, if you are missing a chapter, I will please ask as nice as I can for you to send a separate email message for each chapter you are requesting, with the subject line as "Request 01" or "Request 03" or "Request 09" or whatever. Please remember to have a TWO DIGIT chapter number. My autoresponder thingie that I wrote myself only likes two-digit numbers. Since there ain't no freakin way I'm gonna be able to write more than 99 chapters, we should be fine. If, however, you don't mind getting a big-ass ZIP file with chapters to date in a single zip file (the zip file expands to 16 separate files,) send an email message with "REQUEST 00" as the subject line, again . The .ZIP file was created with a Unix version of ZIP, but it WILL unzip with DOS PKUNZIP 2.04g or WINZIP. I have tried it myself and it works. Macintosh users, you are currently out of luck as far as the .ZIP file goes unless you have a utility you KNOW works on DOS/Unix ZIP files and want to try anyway. :) Questions, I Get Questions Department : OK, this may be a little more than just 'egocentric' but I have been a lot of odd questions in my feedback mail bag. Question #1 hails from just about everyone. I am a guy. A male. A dude. Question #2: No, I don't write for a living, although I hope to some day. Currently I am a network administrator and programmer for TeleTech, America's #1 Customer Call Center provider. We currently have contracts with United Parcel Service, the United States Post Office, and CompuServe, as well as AT&T. If you're calling a 1-800 number for any Fortune 500 company, it's a good bet that you're talking to TeleTech. http://www.teletechusa.com Question #3:I am straight. Question #4:No, I am not married. Question #5:Yes, I am living with someone. Question #6:Yes, it is a woman. Question #7:Blue. Question #8:Depends on whether or not the yak is of legal voting age, and how much beer I've had to drink. Question #9: The correct answer is "to gleam" not "to gleem." This concludes the Q&A answer portion of the story. We now rejoin your word processor, already in progress. Your mileage may vary. Not for internal use. If package is opened or tampered with, the warranty will be voided. Apply shampoo. Rinse. Wash. Repeat. Keep out of the hands of children. Keep away from open flame. This story contains 100% of the US RDA of angst, romance and split infinitives. Some material may not be suitable for children. Offer not valid in WA,OR,CA,ID,WY,UT,NV,CO,AZ,NM,TX,OK, KS,ND,SD,NE,MT,MI,WI,IL,IA,AK,HA,LA,FL,AK,TN,WV,VA,GA,SC,NC,NY,NJ,CT, DE,NH,VT,MA,ME, or the District of Columbia.