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Kadaitcha
by Michael Aulfrey
Part 7/7

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The Landrover came to a screeching halt in five seconds.  Mulder
found himself half-catapulted over the back seat.  Both the
Aboriginal men were looking at him in outright astonishment now.
Charlie's knuckles were white on the steering wheel.  "Track it?
What're you on about?"  His voice was a pale shadow of what it
once was.  "Haven't you listened to what I've said?"
Mulder recovered himself from being half-catapulted over the back
seat.  "I hit it, Charlie.  Three times at least.  And it didn't
kill me, because it was wounded.  If it can be wounded, it can be
stopped.  I'm asking you--can you track it?"
"Man, I don't even want to be know about it!"  He pointed at the
old man.  "My grandfather saw this once before.  His father told
him about it, and his father before him.  An army platoon came
here while he was just a boy!  Kadaitcha came back and killed all
of them!"
"Charlie, the army's back.  Or at least I think it is.  And I
think they want to try and catch this thing.  Try and make a
weapon out of it."
"Let 'em try.  This thing's better than an atom bomb at close
range.  It'll slaughter them.  No more attempts to make a weapon
out of it.  Once bitten, twice shy, right?"
Mulder chewed his lip, allowing the ramifications of that to sink
in.  For a long moment, he considered letting them do just that.
But the image of the five murdered rabbit-shooters, cut to pieces
in the back of the utility, kept imposing itself over his vision.
Imposed itself over its vision and clothed itself in a dozen
camouflaged uniforms.  Young men with families.  Acting under
orders.  And CancerMan's image hovered over it all, sending one
group of men after another against the thing until one succeeded.
"A lot of innocent people have already died because of this thing,
Charlie.  Crawford's badly hurt, maybe dying, because he was
trying to stop it.  He said you're the best tracker there is.  A
lot more people will die if we don't stop it now."  He paused.
"Now.  Can you or can't you track this thing down?"

Charlie's eyes were wide.  Mulder could see those same visions
flashing before it.  For a long moment, Mulder thought he wouldn't
do it.

Then the Aboriginal's eyes focused back on the two of them, and he
pressed his lips together.  "I can track anything alive."

         	 *         *         *

Charlie brought the binoculars down and sniffed contemptuously.
"Amateurs.  They haven't got anything but sniffer dogs."  He got
up from his prone position and dusted himself off.
They were at the top of a hill, looking down on a dried-up sea of
grass.  In that space, camouflaged figures moved in the open
grassland, the dogs bellowing even at this distance.  The
Landrover parked on the other side of the hill, they lay looking
down at the search party which had deployed from the helicopters.

Mulder and Scully were sitting behind an orange-coloured rock,
bleached by the sun's heat.  "Sniffer dogs don't impress you?"
asked Scully.
Charlie shook his head.  "Dogs will go off on any scent they can
find, if it's powerful enough.  You just have to know the right
scent to give them.  Human beings have that wonderful capacity to
screen out distracting stimuli.  Dangerous for the professional
thief or assassin, maybe, but a damn sight better than chasing up
every bit of kangaroo dung in the country, when you're tracking
something."  He turned, walked down the hill towards the flat
plate of rock where the old man was grinding up a combination of
leaves into a paste on the rock.  He asked the old man a question,
to which his grandfather replied with a nod, a string of words,
and a laugh not unlike that expected of Doctor Frankenstein.
Charlie couldn't help but smile as he picked up some of the
leaves.  "Anyway, smear a bit of this stuff around and we won't
have any further problems with the dogs."

Night fell quietly, though in the Landrover the passengers weren't
privy to any sounds.  Charlie's eyes were locked on the ground in
front of the Landrover's headlights, following some trail that
they couldn't see.  Mulder had asked him once what he was doing,
and had received a curt request to be quiet in reply.

They had lost the search parties a few minutes after Charlie and
his grandfather had laid the leaves about the trail of the
creature.  Then they had followed the trail themselves.

Occasionally, they would stop and get out of the truck, and
Charlie would seem to sniff the air, apart from scrutinising the
ground for tracks.  He had explained that the thing's footsteps
could be found after all.  "You must have hit it a good one,
Mulder.  It's not even trying to hide its footsteps now.  It's
injured, all right."  He pointed to an impression on the ground.
It was indistinct, but Mulder could see the bare outline of the
massive foot.  Long, double-toed.  But dragging in the ground
nonetheless.  "We'll find him," said Charlie.  Mulder heard the
faint stirring of fear behind that sound.

They were still following the trail when they came up to a fence.
However, the owners of the fence would need to visit this
particular area.  There was now a gulf in the fence about five
metres wide, each half peeled back as though it were an orange
skin.  Mulder nodded his head in confirmation; he hardly had to
look at the fence to know that it was the formerly electrified
barrier they had surveyed earlier in the day.
"It went this way, all right."
"There's the understatement of the year," said Charlie, crouching
down to look at the ends of the fencing wire, touching the ends
tentatively.  "This wasn't cut using any tools.  The metal's still
a bit warm.  It's like it ripped the wire open with its bare
hands."  Charlie looked at Mulder again.  "I hope you've got some
idea of how to stop this thing, Mr. Mulder.  If it's still strong
enough to do this to an electrified fence, even wounded, it'll
probably do a lot worse to you."

Mulder didn't reply as they got back in the Landrover and drove
through the fence's remains into the dark terrain that lay beyond.
"Did this area have any significance for the Kaladjuma?" asked
Scully, her first question in a long time.  Charlie exchanged a
sentence or two with his grandfather.
"Not really.  The only warning that existed here was not to drink
from the waterholes here.  Poisonous.  Then it was fenced off, and
that was the end of the matter."  He looked at them for a second.
"Why? You know something about this area?"
"I've got a feeling it was fenced off because the Kadaitcha might
keep coming back here every time it decides to start killing
again."  Mulder stopped, a chill running down his spine.  That
meant...

There was an explosion of light in his right field of vision, and
his worst fears were confirmed.  He instinctively threw himself
over Scully to protect her from the blast, but there was no
accompanying detonation of sound; merely a loud buzzing in the air
and the sweep of the searchlight over the back part of the car.
The thudding of the helicopter's blades was loud, overriding even
the Landrover's rattling engine.

Obvious, in retrospect.  They'd lost the scent, so they went back
to wait for the Kadaitcha to return to where they knew it would
eventually go, if their calculations were right.  The Western
Mining site.

Charlie swore loudly and made a hard right, starting a weaving
pattern.  Dust screamed up from the ground in huge plumes,
illuminated as thick sheets of mist by the swerving searchlight.
In the dark, off the track, it was suicidal for anyone to increase
speed in those conditions.

Charles Duggan, however, was not just anyone.

The loudspeaker on the side of the helicopter was braying, the
electronics of the amplifier stretched to the limit.  "You in the
Landrover! Stop your car and turn off your engine!  You are
trespassing on private property!  You will not receive a second
warning!"
"Some welcome wagon," muttered Mulder, too low under the screech
of tires and the whup of the helicopter to be heard.
"Hang on to yer hats, folks--we're gonna do some driving!" yelled
Charlie, and floored the accelerator.  The truck should not have
been able to achieve a higher rate of acceleration than it was
already doing.  Unfortunately, the helicopter pilots had not
counted on Charlie's modification of the engine to include a
turbocharger.  The Landrover shot forward as though kicked from
behind, the searchlight losing them in the darkness.  Charlie gave
a wild ululating yell as the speedometer needle crept towards a
vertical position and beyond.
"Scully, get ready to jump!" yelled Mulder as he pulled out his
pistol and checked to see that the safety was off.  He began to
roll down the window.
"You're out of line," she snorted, her calm voice somehow
cutting through the noise of the engine's whine.  She pulled out
her own pistol and ducked down behind the back seat as the
searchlight caught up with the rear of the car again.

Mulder heard another sound that he for a moment mistook as the
helicopter.  Then there was another sound; a bit like an several
aluminium cans being opened, but without the hiss of escaping air
at the end.  The rear window of the Landrover shattered even as he
ducked, spraying glass over the interior.  The searchlight of the
helicopter swayed wildly as the pilot brought the machine around
to give the door-gunner, rearming the machine-gun, a better shot.

Everyone ducked down, though Charlie came up quickly and started
to swerve again.  Bullets kicked up the dirt where the truck had
been a second earlier.  Mulder looked at Scully as they huddled
below the back seat's top, the air screaming in their ears.
"Having fun yet?" yelled Mulder, despite the fear that he saw
mirrored in Scully's eyes.  She smiled grimly.
"Just don't mention Butch Cassidy!" she shouted back.  Her
eyebrows were raised inquiringly.  The prior fear was gone; there
only remained recognition of a harsh necessity for action.  He
nodded; held up one finger, then two, then three.

They rose to their knees on the wildly pitching back seat and
opened fire, three shots each.  The gunfire echoed loudly in the
back of the car.  More for distraction value than practical
effect, really.  There was little chance of them hitting the
helicopter from the angle they had.  Nevertheless, Mulder was
gratified to see the helicopter veer off their trail again.

Then the Landrover gave a sudden lurch, and Charlie screamed
"Brace yourselves!" just as the overstrained front axle gave way
and smashed into the ground with a shower of sparks.  Mulder got a
hand to the frame of the car just as it slewed in its path, then
rolled.

The universe became a chaos of orbiting metal and sounds of
crushing plants as Mulder held on.  The Landrover's engine
screamed as the rev counter went off the dial, a cry of agony as
it entered its death throes.  He thought he heard someone
screaming.  He couldn't tell if it was Scully or himself.  For a
moment Mulder was terrorised by a vision of the cabin crushing
them like bugs under a shoe; but the reinforced frame of the truck
was tough and the thing held its shape as it tumbled once, twice,
five times, losing debris like some tank disrobing and finally
came to a stop.

The universe stopped spinning.  Mulder shook the fuzz out of his
head with a groan and settled for focusing on whatever was
directly in front of him.  The car had luckily come down right-
side up; despite a fetching reorganisation of the interior,
everything appeared intact.  He was about to look towards Scully
when a gun muzzle suddenly stuck itself into his cheek and a gruff
voice told him to bring up his hands.

He'd expected death.  It had been just a matter of time.  The
geography of it was his problem.  He slowly brought his hands up,
getting out of the Landrover as carefully as possible so as not to
bring on the death quicker than he wanted.  Behind him, he heard
another door slowly open and close, and more harsh voices ordering
the others out of the car.

The helicopter had found a clear spot nearby, and its blades were
powering down, losing motion through the friction of the air.  The
searchlight was fixed on the wrecked car's position.  Mulder
regarded the figure before him.  Male.  In combat fatigues.  But
there was a black balaclava over its head, and it its black-gloved
hands an M-16 rifle, pointed at his heart.  The eyes were visible,
but he might as well have been looking at the dead for all the
good it did.

More voices behind him, and the movement he sensed resolved itself
as a familiar red-haired figure walked up beside him, hands on her
head.  His anxiety decreased a notch to see her survive, despite
the grim situation.  Next to her, the old man and Charlie, dark
eyes staring hard and unrepentant at the soldiers.  A thin line of
blood trickled down Scully's forehead, though she made no sign of
having noticed it.

The other three soldiers walked up to join the first.  They might
as well have been clones for all the differences they had.
"So what do we do with them?"
The one who had gotten Mulder out was apparently the leader.  "As
we've been ordered."  He cocked his rifle.  Mulder closed his eyes
and wished he could say goodbye to Scully before it was over.
Every regret and hope he'd had rushed through his head.
"Sir!"  A sound of crunching footsteps.  Mulder opened his eyes
again, saw the pilot, with a helmet making him look like a mutant
beetle, running over to them.  "Sir, we've just got word.  They've
found it.  They want everybody on Alpha condition."

Just as casually as he had cocked the rifle, the leader uncocked
it again and was walking towards the helicopter, one of the men
following him.  "All right.  We'd better move fast.  You other two-
-stay here and guard them.  We'll be back to help you bury them
shortly."  The remaining two saluted, then resumed their watch as
the leader, the pilot and the junior got back onto the helicopter
and powered up again.  The helicopter lifted off with a swirling
of dust that made them all squint, and was off into the night like
a dark bird of doom.

Charlie was first to speak up, a couple of minutes after the
helicopter had faded into silence.  "You fellas don't have a clue
what you're dealing with."
"Shut it, coon," said one of the soldiers, raising his weapon
threateningly.
"He's right, you know," said Mulder, even as the weapon muzzle
swung towards him.  "I've seen this thing you're trying to
capture."  There was a moment's hesitation from the anonymous
guard.  "That's what you're doing, isn't it?  It took out a whole
platoon of men armed to the teeth.  I've got doubts you guys will
be able to crack it, even with modern technology."
"Listen, buddy, if you don't shut your mouth--"

The blast heat was intense, even from this distance, and for a
moment night became day over Starkey's Creek.  Mulder shielded his
eyes instinctively, even as the soundwave hit them with a bang
like a thousand doors being slammed shut.  In the north east, a
mushroom cloud of near-atomic proportions rose into the night sky,
a pillar of flame that God might have sent to guide the Israelites
in this desert.  Red and yellow cascaded.  In the air itself,
another explosion brightly flared and was gone.  The mushroom
cloud rose, slowly beginning to disappear in the night.
"Jesus Christ!"  the soldier who had been talking breathed as he
stared at the blast, his gun still pointed at the four of them.
"That must've been it!  What the hell happened over there?!"
His companion was silent, also seemingly entranced by the fallout
of the massive explosion.  The other one stared at the flame.
"What're we supposed to do now?"
"Tie up the loose ends," said his companion.  The only thing
Mulder's horrified brain could register at that second was that
the voice sounded familiar.  He watched in mute transfixion as the
second soldier's rifle swung towards the first and spat fire.  The
air shook with the quick staccato of the rifle's hammer.

Half a dozen bullets hit the soldier in the chest and face.  He
danced as though he were a grotesque marionette and finally crashed
to the earth, blood spilling onto the ground.  The remaining
soldier pointed the weapon at the four remaining civilians.  
Mulder didn't even try to protest for his life; his mind was too
busy replaying the soldier's dying dance as the metal slugs ripped
into him.  At last, all he could manage to choke out was "Why?!"

The figure swivelled the gun so it pointed starwards, and reached
up to remove the balaclava, exposing a thin, angular face.  A
thin, female face.  The woman Mulder had received the information
from.  They could see her face much more clearly now.  The errant
thought strayed through Mulder's head that she was in fact quite
beautiful.   "Like I said, agent Mulder.  You don't want to become
one of us."  She then pointed the rifle at them again, and backed
away, fading into the night like a shadow.  Above, the cloud
of fire was dissipating, leaving traces of red dust in the air
like the arms of a spirit.

         	 *         *         *

Epilogue:

FILE #185493-X
DR. DANA SCULLY
EXTRACT: REPORT, 6/12/95

Detective Crawford is recovering from his wounds at Royal Perth
Hospital in the state capital, though the surgeons advise that he
will be impaired in the use of his injured arm for the remainder
of his life.  Agent Mulder and myself have briefed him fully on
all that has transpired, and he hopes to launch a fresh
investigation into the matters in Starkey's Creek once he has
fully recovered.

The murderer of the people in Starkey's Creek has been officially
identified as an escaped killer who had been using the town as a
bolthole until the search for him was cut back.  Agent Mulder and
myself have avoided publicity over this matter.  As the case is
not within our jurisdiction, there are no further comments I can
make on this case other than that the Starkey's Creek murders
remain unsolved so far as Mulder and I are concerned.

The metal slivers sent for analysis to CSIRO labs here in Perth
have gone missing; we were informed that while CSIRO records
having received the traces, nobody can recall having seen them
after that time.  We were also politely told that since we were
out of our jurisdiction, we should leave it to Australian police
to investigate it.  Robert Crawford has made a complaint to the
relevant authorities.

EXTRACT ENDS.

DR. FOX MULDER
EXTRACT: AUDIO TAPE -- PERSONAL DIARY, 7/12/95

MULDER: Scully is asleep in the seat beside me, so I think it's
safe for me to record this.  As I sit here looking down over the
Pacific Ocean, I'm led to wonder--not for the first time--whether
we have achieved anything by our work at Starkey's Creek.  It's
pretty obvious now that no radiation experiment was conducted at
the town.  The killings were going on too long for that.
However, that still doesn't tell us whether the thing we chased
was a natural phenomenon or something else.  One thing's for sure.
Whatever I saw out there was more than animal.  It had the power
to produce some kind of major explosion, so it seems, and it had
the ability to fight using edged weapons.
[Pause]
MULDER: And it sure didn't look like anything from this world.
Whatever it was took human intellect.  And then some.
[Pause]
MULDER: Officially, the authorities have still caught their killer,
without the help of the FBI.  At worst, we could be considered to
have endangered the life of a fellow officer.  At best, we've only
demonstrated that there are problems when jurisdictions collide.
[Pause]
MULDER: But that's not the real subject here.  The real question
to be asked from this whole affair is the extent to which the
conspiracy of silence involves other countries around the world.
Scully and myself have run into this time and again, though she
prefers to think of it as paranoia on my part.  The existence of
an international conspiracy is damning enough.  But what if the
reason behind the conspiracy is not a need to protect the public,
but rather a desire by some leaders of some countries to curry
favour with more influential ones?

EXTRACT ENDS.

FILE #2847654
PRIORITY CLEARANCE
EXTRACT: COVERING LETTER, 10/12/95
RE: DAMOCLES OPERATION

Sir,
I should hope you are pleased with the contents of this package.
Despite the loss of teams Alpha and Gamma, and the complete
destruction of the extraterrestrial life form and ship by reason
of its self-destruct device [Ref. File #8484092-Y] we have
salvaged something of this affair.

The metal slivers of this package are suspected to be of the
alien's weaponry.  CSIRO lab studies reveal a composition comprising
of elements not on the periodic table.  Perhaps you will consider
this against the otherwise admittedly unfavourable report that you
will be receiving soon.

Re: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Charles Duggan and Robert Crawford: I
would recommend that something be done about these persons in the
near future, as per our usual mode of operations.  They have a
compromising level of knowledge with regard to this affair.

Yours Sincerely.

EXTRACT ENDS.

END

END OF PART 7/7.
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Phew! It's all over at last.  Hope you enjoyed it.
Special thanks to everyone at Saint Thomas More College, Brian
Hogben for helping me upload this stuff, and everyone on
alt.tv.x-files.creative who have been so supportive to a newbie
at this wondrous game...
As you probably figured out, the story was a crossover between
X-Files and Predator.  I tried to keep it as equivocal as possible
right up to the end...hope everyone liked it!
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Michael J. Aulfrey
University of Western Australia                                   
Address: mikeaulf@tartarus.uwa.edu.au
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Who hates yuppies? -- We do, Chucky. We do.
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Microsoft: Who do you want to wipe out today?
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"Unarmed...and extremely attractive." --Dana Scully on Windows 95.
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