"Who are you, strangers? Where are you sailing from,
and where to, down the highways of sea water?
Have you some business here?"

"The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation. Book 3, Lines 77-79. Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

Fuck. I almost forgot.

We have an 'errand' to do tonight.

How I'm gonna explain this one to Kelly, I'm not sure.

Maybe I oughta just tell her the truth.

Hmm...or tell her the truth, just leave a few critical items out.

Hope Langly and the prof remembered. I'm sure the prof did. He's like a goddamn elephant, he never forgets. And I hope he got the floor plans and entry schematics, or we're toast.

Course, right now, he's not so with it like he usually is. He seems like he's kind of lost in space.

Think we all are right now.

I get back, I see Kelly out by the pool, and Ally's with Miranda and Shelby and Patrick and two ladies that look sort of familiar. Don't see Langly.

"Hey, Michael? Do you remember Emma and Lydia?"

Vaguely. They seem nice enough...oh yeah.

They're her first husband's sisters.

No wonder Langly's not around. Probably sulking somewhere that Ally's not paying enough attention to him. He gets that way.

The sisters and Ally look like they're getting sort of ripped. Lots of empty Corona bottles around.

They need to get a taste for real beer, these Californians.

"You done studying?" I ask Kelly, after I get treated to the most delicious kiss in the world...mmm.

"I am." She smiles happily.

Oh damn. I was hoping she had tons of stuff to do...then she wouldn't mind so much that I wasn't gonna be around...less explaining to do about tonight's extracurricular activities.

"Feel like dinner tonight? I'll treat." She gives me a big hug, and her fingers start sneaking up my back, under the hem of my T-shirt...oh fuck.

I REALLY don't want to go to NJ tonight.

"Um...well...Langly and the prof and me...we sort of promised Mulder we'd...do something for him."

"On Saturday night?"

"It's Mulder. What can I tell you?"

She scowls a little. "I was hoping we'd maybe see your dad and then-"

"I saw Dad. Believe me, you don't wanna see him today."

Ally's popping another beer. "Hey, Kelly, you guys coming to dinner with us?" She's happy drunk right now, she's giggling and I got no idea why.

"Why don't you go?" I'm gonna have to thank Ally for bailing me on this one...provided, of course, Kelly accepts her invite.

"What are you going to do?"

Uh-oh. I was afraid of that.

"Um...probably better not to ask."

She glares at me, narrowing her pretty eyes into slits. "You're not doing anything illegal, are you, Michael Frohike?"

Okay...where in the guy handbook is the correct answer to that one?

"He just wants us to come along to...do something."

C'mon, Kel, let it go, I'm screaming in my head. It's not like I really wanna do this anyway.

"Just tonight, okay? Tomorrow, we'll hang. We can study and then maybe go blading or something."

She chews on that. "Okay. And Michael?"

"Yeah?"

She leans over and kisses me. "Be careful. I can't lose you, too."

Sometimes she just makes me wanna cry.
 

Langly in the offices. "Isn't Byers supposed to drag his ass on this little voyage of discovery?"

You can tell he's been drinking too much. When he just has a few, he's pretty funny, but when he starts topping out, he gets kind of snippy about everything.

"Don't think the prof's coming."

"And why the fuck not?"

"Because Daddy Dearest is in town."

"And he's lying in a bed in the VA."

"No, you dope, his dad, as in biological progenitor, as you call him!"

He's bombed enough that this is having trouble registering. "You're kidding. Papa Byers, in town?"

"To see Sonny Boy, looks like."

"You're shitting me."

"Saw him earlier. At the hospital. Don't know what the fuck he was doing there, but all I know is after he got there, Dad got a private duty nurse. And it ain't costing the family Frohike a red cent."

"Lemme guess. Martha."

"Correctomundo."

"Aw, c'mon, Junior. You don't seriously think Papa Byers has that much heart, do you? I mean, we met the dude! He's a fucking glacier, man!"

"Yeah, but either he or the prof did something."

"Probably Byers, the goddamn fool. Frohike's gonna kick his lily white ass when he finds out."

"Maybe. But then again, he does get to have HER around. He might overlook the principle of the thing, for a change."

"Depends on how horny he is."

"I don't think Dad's real horny right now." Oh God. What a gross thought. My dad. Doing it. With a WOMAN.

Aargh!

"He will be. That's how we'll know he's getting better."

Okay, something to be said for that.

"So like, do we wait for Byers or what the fuck do we do? Mulder's gonna be here anytime."

"Like did you get schematics for the security system in this place?"

"No, I thought you were gonna do that."

"I thought you or the prof was gonna do it."

"Thought Mulder told you to do it."

"So we don't have 'em."

"Wow, he can be taught! No, we don't have 'em, and we damn better get 'em. C'mon, Junior, move your ass!"

"And what the fuck are you doing so damn important you can't do it?"

"Junior, man, just shut the fuck up and get the diagrams, okay?"

Sometimes it's real tough being at the bottom of the food chain around here.
 

Mulder's banging on the door. "Hey, let me in."

Langly's in a snotty mood. "Should we or shouldn't we?" We let him stand in the doorway.

I shrug. "Only his hairdresser knows for sure."

We decide, against our better judgment, to let Mulder in.

Probably the first and biggest mistake of the night.

I don't know why, but doing this is making me REAL nervous.

I don't think Langly's nervous, but he's too plastered to give a fuck.

Mulder's got on a black T-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and carries a black sweatshirt. Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Johnny Cash.

"You guys ready to go?" Mulder's like, he's almost like...well, excited in a way.

I think Mulder gets off on this shit.

I'm too much of a wimp for getting off on it. Carrying out a real cool hack is one thing. Breaking into a pharmaceutical warehouse, that's another.

Besides, he's packing and we're not. Talk about a home-court advantage.

"Hope you're driving," I tell Mulder.

"You don't seriously think I'd let you guys drive, do you? I mean, I like to increase my odds of finishing something alive, as opposed to diminishing them."

"Fuck you, Mulder." Langly's really toast now, and he's not in a good mood. And he's really pissing me off because he's not helping.

"Riding the PMS wagon bareback today?" Mulder taunts him.

"Shut the fuck up."

Mulder cruises over to him. "Oh, Christ. Langly, you're wasted! Jesus! You knew we were gonna do this tonight!" He stares around the room. "Where the hell is Byers?"

"Don't think he's coming," I break the bad news.

"You're kidding. Oh God. We're screwed."

"You remember that fucking piece of granite that somebody said begat ol' Byers?" Langly's slurring his words now. "He's here. In town. I bet Daddy'd never approve of his little boy going on a funky poach." He's sneering now, and I don't like it.

"Do you have all your stuff together?" Mulder's starting to get nervous, and this is making me nervous...we probably shouldn't do this.

We should definitely not do this.

If Mulder had an ounce of good sense, he'd call the whole thing off right now. But that's not one of Mulder's strong suits, good sense.

I'm not saying I have any good sense, obviously I don't or I wouldn't have agreed to this fucking trip in the first place, but I do have my dad, and he finds out about this, he is gonna have my ass in a sling. Provided this doesn't give him another goddamn heart attack first.

So now on top of nervous, I feel guilty, too.

"Lesse.." Langly's kind of trying to pull it together..."we got the laptop...we got the toolbox...we got...hey Junior. What's weather like up in NJ tonight?"

"Beats the fuck outta me." I'm downloading the diagrams now. It wasn't too bad getting them, thank God, or we'd be here half the night trying to deal with that. Thank you Con Ed.

"So why don't you find out?"

"Langly, anyone ever tell you you're an asshole?" I snap at him.

"All the time, what's that got to do with the fucking weather?"

"Fine." I log into CNN Weather On-Line. Northern NJ...Rahway...highs in the low 70s tonight, but possibility of thunderstorms. Great.

We're gonna have to disable several electrical-mechanical systems...and with our luck, it's gonna pour. And in my experience, water and electricity make for a lousy mix.

Finally, everything in place, we pile into the minivan, where I get to ride shotgun because Langly's just about passed out in back.
 

"What the hell's up with him?" Mulder asks after we make a Starbucks run and pull out on to 95.

"Started praying to the alcohol gods before noon."

"Oh, wonderful." Mulder grimaces, hard. "Here we go again."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Well...I don't know if you know...but Langly...spent some time in rehab. Alcohol and drug related problems."

"I knew that."

"Well, this was how it all began last time."

"He didn't just start drinking today, you know."

"No...he's been pretty good about being a social drinker for almost ten years now. I was really proud of that boy. He showed a lot of discipline, which by the way surprised the shit out of me at the time."

"So maybe he's just having a bad day."

"He's been having a lot of bad days lately. Bad year seems more like it."

"Hey, lotta people'd like to have his life."

"Only if they didn't know all the particulars."

"True, true. But like, he's always real happy with Ally and the kidlets and all. He gets mad at Miranda, but they still seem like buds a lot of the time."

"I think that's the only time I do see him happy, is when he's doing the family man thing. Even then...losing their last shot at another kid...I think that hit him hard."

"Think Patrick helped."

"Yeah, and no. Yes, because he does love the little monster."

You should look at your own kidlets, Mulder. If you want to talk about monsters.

"Bad, because it means...well, you don't lose both your siblings in one summer and come out happy about it. And believe me, I know from where I speak."

"You ever lose a brother or sister?"

He gets real sad, quiet. "My sister. When I was twelve. She was eight."

Wow.

I mean, Les and me, we fought like cats and dogs...but lose her...I mean, that would be just too weird to think about.

"How'd it happen? I mean, you don't gotta tell me-"

He laughs a little. "She was abducted."

Kidnapped. "They ever find her kidnappers?"

"Yes."

"So she never came back?"

"Yes. And no."

"I don't get it."

He drives the minivan in silence. It's like he wants to talk about this...but he's like trying to figure out how to string it all together.

"I believed for the longest time she had been abducted by aliens."

"So what do you think now?"

"I know she was abducted for...the Project."

We've had a lot of discussions about the Project...it's more like projects plural. We suspect that a lot of them are going on, even escalating...genetically engineered viruses, stuff like that.

It's been going on a long time...and we think it's getting worse.

Lots worse.

"You've met the smoking bastard."

"You mean, that creepy guy with the nasty cigarettes and the expensive suit."

"Yeah, him."

"You know who he is?"

"Yeah."

"So who the fuck is he?"

"Somebody you don't wanna know. Just stay away from him...less you know about him, and his doings, the better off you are."

I want to hear more about all this...but we get interrupted by this hideous moan from the backseat.

"Pull the fuck over." The words come out kind of garbled, but it's pretty damn obvious what he wants.

"What was that?" Mulder didn't catch it, he's watching the road. We're in Delaware right now. All the charm of NJ, half the personality.

"I said, pull the -"

Too late.

I know that sound, and that smell.

Been there, done that.

Langly just puked all over the Muldervan.

"Oh, Christ." Mulder's like, he shakes his head and just looks pissed off.

And I know I'm evil...but I start cracking up.

Mulder pulls over to the shoulder on 95, we got traffic whizzing by us, it's getting dark, and we're dragging Langly's sorry ass out of the van, but not before he chucks again inside it.

"I'm gonna hang you by your hair," Mulder hisses at him.

"Well, I'm sorry!" Langly's a lot more sober now, but not any more agreeable.

I'm still laughing my ass off. I can't help it.

"Junior, this isn't funny!" Mulder's like, how do I get myself into these things?

"Yeah, what the fuck's your problem?" Langly snarls at me.

Thank God he had his hair in a ponytail, or we'd have to clean him up, too.

"So Langly?" I'm still cracking up. "Gonna make any more comments about people puking in cars?"

"Shut the fuck up, Junior." He's mad...but he's red, too.

Gotcha!
 

First order of business is, find an open carwash, which is a lot harder in Delaware on a Saturday night than you think.

We find a self serve one on US 202, near Talleyville, which is real close to the PA border, but sort of out of our way. We're gonna have to backtrack like fifteen miles because of this. And scrubbing out the Muldervan on a Saturday night to take a trip to NJ to do something I really don't wanna do in the first place...

I should've stayed the fuck home.

"I have no idea how to explain this one to Scully," Mulder moans.

"What'd you tell her we were doing?"

"I said we were going drinking at Mitch's."

"Looks like the gods got even with you, Mulder." I'm saying this as I'm foaming the carpet. "Just tell her that Langly puked in your car."

"Fuck you, Junior." Langly's trying to scrub the upholstery, and he's in so much pain right now...poor bastard.

I love it. Serves him right, not just for getting smashed, but also for all the times he busted my ass about it!

"I could do that. I don't have to tell her what time he puked."

"Either of you say anything about this to anybody..." Langly's like so embarrassed now.

"Sorry, dude. Paybacks are a bitch. Consider yourself paid." I grin at him, evilly.

He looks at me like, you die, boy.
 

We drive the rest of the way with the windows open.

Langly's bitching that the back seat reeks.

Well, no duh, dude!

Cross the bridge to 295, get on the NJ Turnpike...hope we don't hit any accidents, NJ Turnpike sucks when things happen.

All this looks familiar...I mean, it's my home state.

"Aren't you a local boy?" Mulder asks me.

"Sad but true."

"Hey, Junior, you know why New York got all the lawyers and NJ got all the toxic waste?" Mulder's gonna drag out that tired old joke again.

"Because NJ got first choice."

"Ah, you know that one."

"Mulder, you really need to get new jokes, you know that?"

"Help if I had better material to work with."

I turn to the groaning blonde figure in the back seat. "C'mon, Mulder, you got plenty of material to work with, you just gotta use it!" I stick my tongue out at Langly.

"Fuck you both," Langly snarls, and dozes off for a little while. Good. He'll be quiet.

We drive.

END OF PART 37