Prologue

Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI leaned over the desk she was seated at in the office she shared with her partner, laid her head on her arms and closed her eyes. The throbbing pain in her head ceased slightly but did not go away as she prayed for guidance over what was one of the worse headaches she’d ever been cursed with.

Scully squeezed her eyes shut as the door to the office opened and closed with a very loud click. She pressed a hand over her aching head as footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor and noises arose all over the office. Scully didn’t have to open her eyes to know that it was her partner, Fox Mulder, entering the office, nor did she have to lift her head to realize that he had something to present to her. Five years together gave her enough knowledge to know, or rather sense, when something was about to happen.

Scully lifted her head slightly and looked at him. She watched wearily as he quickly set up the slide presentation with that crazed look in his eyes he usualy wore when excited about something. After clicking the slides in placed and drawing down the screen, at last, Mulder turned to look at his partner.

“I got em, Scully,” he said, his crazed eyes even more wild. For a minute, Scully thought he looked insane.

“Do I wanna know?” she muttered, squinting her eyes against the blinding pain.

Mulder turned to her. “The prospect of beings from another planet living on our Earth’s own soil has become,” he paused for drama, “a reality.”

Scully stared at him through her narrowed eyes. Then she slumped her head back on her desk and buried her face in her arms. Try as she might, she couldn’t block out the familiar drone of his voice as he went on to explain.

“Now, Scully, I know that you find my discoveries, often find my discoveries, somewhat unbelievable. I realize that this won’t be any different, until you can see for yourself.” He flicked the lights out and clicked on the first slide.

Scully thought she was compelled at least to look at the first slide. So she lifted her head and found the ache somewhat dulled, either from the lack of light or from the two Excedrin she’d taken an hour before. She tried to focus on the bright screen in front of her which depicted four normal looking people, two men, one woman, one child. Scully couldn’t help noticing that the woman was quite beautiful and she eyed Mulder suspiciously.

Mulder continued. “Meet the Solomons. Dick Solemon, the “Father,” Sally Solomon, the “Sister,” Harry Solomon, the “Son,” and “Tommy” Solomon, the “Other Son.”

Mulder allowed himself to glance at Scully here. When he saw no emotion in her facial expression whatsoever, he continued. “This “family” has been at their current residence just under six monthes. I’ve been following them on a hunch for just under five monthes. Close to their home, in a nearby field, a witness says that about six monthes ago, out of nowhere, from a cloud of smoke, appeared a car.”

Again, Mulder took the oportunity to glance at Scully. No change in facial expression or body posture. This may be bad, he thought, but shrugged and continued.

“Now my witness conludes that the car appeared out of nowhere and that out of it crawled four people, three men and one woman. The Solemons. The Solemons have taken up residency in an apartment close to the area in question and have since then assumed their identities, Tom, Dick, Harry and Sally.”

“The witness contacted me just under five monthes ago, as I said, and since then I’ve implored him/her to keep tabs on these Solemons and to find out as much as he/she can about them. I, of course, took it into my own hands and researched all I could about Dick, Harry, Sally, and Tommy Solomen.” He paused and reguarded his partner for a moment. “Even though your not speaking, Scully, I can’t imagine how you would be unable to wonder what I did find out about them.”

Scully continued to stare at Mulder, her eyes expressionless.

Slightly, but not completely, unnerved, Mulder continued. “Nothing. I found nothing on them, Scully. Oh, I found citizenship and social security numbers, but that was about it. My reports conclude that the family shows no other place of residence in the United States for the last fifty years than their current residency. I tried to pull up background checks on each of the adults, and it appears that they have no backgrounds. And I know what your thinking, Scully, your thinking that perhaps they lived in another country. However, how could they live elsewhere when English is their first language? And my contact swears that they are American and only American. He/she has asked them where they lived before taking up their current residency and each and every member of the family has evaded the question.”

“Now I’ve known this for quite some time and have spent more time trying to locate any information I could on the members of the family. I haven’t had much luck in that area, but my contact has now brought me new information on the case.”

Scully raised her eyebrows at the word “case,” but said nothing.

Mulder continued. “My contact has informed me of suspicious behaivior from one of the four people. Harry, the older son, was viewed in a . . . somewhat questionable way. He was aparently reporting on some unknown tasks from an unknown source in a weird body position with his arms raised in the air and his face contorted into a grimace. After reporting an “incoming message” about a certain “mission,” he went back to normal and then proceeded to ask the other family members what was going on. And the strangest thing is, Scully, that the family . . . “ He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Didn’t think anything of it.”

Mulder stopped talking, having nothing else to say, really, and perched himself on top of the desk. He waited a full minute before turning to look at her. “Well?”

Scully breathed through her nose and sat back in Mulder’s chair, laying her head against the cushion seat and gazing up at him. She spoke slowly. “So you’re saying, Mulder, that since the Solomen’s are not believed to have lived anywhere other than their current residence and that the research you’ve conducted on them has turned up inconclusive, and that one of the members of the family may have a mental disorder which causes him to break into “questionable” behaivior; this means that the people in question are from another planet?”

Mulder blinked. “Well, when you put it like that, Scully, it sounds a little . . . harsh.”

“Harsh?” she asked. Scully realized that her headache hadn’t dulled. It had, in fact, doubled in strength. “Or untrue?”

Mulder looked at her with exasperation. “It’s a hunch, Scully, okay? A hunch.”

She nodded. “A hunch.” The silence was effective as the both of them recalled the many hunches Mulder had had over the years. None of them had been wrong, just . . . difficult. “So tell me, Mulder, where is the Solomon’s current residence? I take it we’re booked on the next flight?”

Mulder flashed a grin as he tossed two airline tickets on the desk in front of her. “The Windy City, Chicago, Illinois.”

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