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Title: The Seventh Day Summary: We always wondered how Scully ended up in the hospital in "One Breath". Well, here is my explanation. The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things. Of ships, and shoes, and sealing wax. And how I decieved the King. Her three-month mark was almost up, and I knew that once she reached that mark, they would drop her, as they'd dropped all the others, from the Project. Fill her full of mind-wiping dope, plant the chip, and unhook the baby, therefore setting off the chip's timeclock. For three months, Clone 1-SDK had lived in a tank of nutrient fluid, connected to her mother by the alien umbilical cord, and some wires that wound around it. The moment that alien cord was severed, the chip was activated so that if it was removed, the cancer wuld begin. Clone 1-SDK was also programmed, programmed so that if her treatment was stopped, a different form of cancer would begin. I watched from behind the glass window as the nurse filled a syringe with the first injection of the dope. She would fill six such injections, over a three day period. Then the three-day treatment of RNA would begin, to facilitate the growth of the branched DNA that would further eliminate her ability to carry a child. On the seventh day, they would drop her from the Project. The nurse had finished giving her the injection, and left the room. I opened the door of the observation deck, and hurred down the steps to the floor of the room. I locked the main two doors, and hurried to her bedside. Carefully, I slid down the fiberglass cover that cut the cord where it entered the tank. The end that continued into the tank shrivelled, and disappeared. I knew that I was taking a risk with the Clone, shutting her off from her mother seven days ahead of schedule, but it had to be done in order to save her mother's life. You see, six dope injections coupled with three RNA injections often put a person in a coma for almost six months, during which the dope erased any memories that the person had about their abduction. There were cases, of course, in which that six-month coma was cut short and the subject awakened with memories. Penny Northern, for example. Betsy Hagopian. Both of whom had made the mistake of removing their chips, which further worsened their conditions. I planned on one dope injection and half a RNA injection putting her in a coma for a few days, a week at the most. Her memories would resurface earlier than normal short coma patients, and perhaps more violent. But it was my reason for liberating her before the seventh day. Those memories could be used to bring him down. I retrieved a syringe from the cabinet, and filled it to the halfway mark with the RNA solution. I injected it directly into her arm, it would normally be dripped in through the IV. But I didn't have time for that. I looked down to where the alien cord entered her body, between her legs, straight into her womb. I had removed one once before, a year ago, during my training for this Project. She was different, though, she wasn't the nameless, faceless woman who I'd removed the cord from last year. I knew the woman who lay before me on the table, and I wanted to be gentle with her. Gentle. To a woman who's abduction I had been charged with arranging. But I had known even then, that I could liberate her from these chains. Carefully, I pulled away the sheet, and spread her legs open just far enough for me to complete the simple operation. I threaded the loose end of the cord through the round cutter. It was set up like a cigar cutter, except it was round, to be inserted an inch into the woman's body. If the umbilical cord was cut at the woman's end outside her body, it would not cause the woman to expell the half-alien placenta. And it would kill her. I slid the cutter up the cord, and used my latex-glove covered fingers to gently insert it into her body. The vaginal muscles caused it to snap shut, cutting the umbilical. I removed the cutter and the cord, and set them in the aluminum pan on the cart next to the bed. The wires that were wrapped around the cord were thin, and cut easily. I adjusted the IV for a faster drip, and waited until I saw the first spasms in her lower body. Then I raised her knees, and watched as the spasms increased until the placenta was expelled. The afterbirth made me glad that I wasn't a woman. I placed the placenta in the tray, and carefully cleaned the blood and fluid off of her. Moving quickly around the room, I washed the utensils I had used, and replaced them. The placenta I packed in ice, then in a biohazard container. I would dispose of it later, away from here where it could be found. I moved back to her bed, and checked the IV. Then I checked Clone 1-SDK's vitals on the monitor, watching for a moment to make sure she was steady. Satisfied, I moved back to her mother's bedside and carefully removed the IV. I picked her up, she was heavy in my arms despite her petite stature, and I laid her on a gurney. I set the biohazard canister at her feet, and covered both her and the canister with the sheet. I pinched the clip in my facial mask tighter, then wheeled the gurney down the ramp to the underground tunnel. A guard was stationed there. "Afternoon, Mr. Krycek." "Afternoon, Ron." "Another one?" he asked, nodding at her. "Yes. Didn't take well to the dope." "Shame," he said, and unlocked the gate. "See you tomorrow." "Same to you," I replied, and wheeled her off down the hall. I went past the biohazard sign that pointed the way to the morgue, and further to the lockers. From my locker I took a pair of long underwear, mine of course, and quickly dressed her in them. It was cold outside, and I was worried about infection. I loaded the gurney onto the ambulance, and made sure she was secured. Then I drove half an hour to the hospital I'd selected for her, close to her home, stopping occasionally to make sure she continued to breath. Removal of the umbilical cord and placenta before the seventh day could result in shock, but she seemed to be doing well. As well as could be expected. I drove up to the hospital, and parked. No one took notice as I wheeled in the gurney into the hosptial, as I had picked the most out of the way entrance. I wore a doctor's coat, with the nametag Smith. I wheeled the gurney into an examining area near the E.R, and drew a curtain around it. Standing within that curtain, I looked down at her. "I'm sorry," I whispered softly, "that I could not do more for you. I brought you into the Project, and when I did I promised you I'd get you out. And I have. In the best shape possible." I allowed myself the indulgence of brushing a strand of limp red hair from her forehead. "They will think that you won't survive. But you will. I know you will." I slid the chart into the metal holder at the end of the bed. It was blank, except for her mother's phone number, and her name. Scully, Dana Katherine. <end>
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