Project HEARD
presents
Strings

 In the basement of the Hoover building in Washington, DC, a man was setting up
a video projector. He put it in one corner of the room and shone its image on
the far wall, where it eclipsed the old fading poster that hung there. To the
projector, he connected the videocassette player, then rummaged for and found
his microtape recorder. He shut off the lights, then simultaneously pressed
Play on the VCR and Record on his microtape device.
 He watched in silence for a few moments as the picture came up, blurred, then
stabilized, tracking bars flicking across the screen briefly. The tape had
arrived on his desk--or rather, in his hand during a shadowy meeting in a
darkened city park--the day before, and it had taken him this long to review it
and formulate a plan for what he should do with it.
 On the tape, a man blinked into view, supposedly a camera technician helping
to do a public interest story for the local news. Truth be told, of course, the
man was one of many people that had worked on the video production, which,
although it was shown on television a few days later, was actually recorded
specifically for the benefit of one man, the man who was beginning to watch it
unfold in the FBI basement.
 "Case number X-30238, Special Agent Fox Mulder," he droned into the recorder
in a monotone. He rattled off the date and time, then continued to watch the
recording. The audiocassette he was making would later be edited onto a copy of
the video, to make his voiceover on the report he was preparing to give.
 On said video a young woman and young man appeared, sitting on a couch. The
woman was fussing with something, and the man said, "Brianna, you look FINE,
just relax, okay?"
 "Okayokay," she blurted out, and then blinked and smiled for the camera.
 "All right," an off-camera voice said. "If you just answer those questions the
same way again as you did in practice, you'll do just fine, okay? Okay." The
camera zoomed in and out as the operator chose the proper shot for the scene;
ultimately he settled on a head-and- shoulders view of the two people seated on
the couch.
 "Okay," the one called Brianna smiled, and gulped down some air. "Just stay
calm, Joe, and everything will be all right."
 For his part, her companion looked at her and smiled bemusedly.
 "All right," the reporter said, "On the left is Brianna Diggers, self-
employed inventor, and on the right is her friend Joe Morgan, student at UNA."
 Mulder raised the tape recorder and said, "Subject 'Brianna Diggers' appears
to be approximately 24 years of age, although records for her did not exist in
either GDOT or federal databases until four years ago. Her Georgia driver's
license states her age at 24 but leaves out her date of birth. Date of issue of
the license was 3/29/96."
 Meanwhile, the videotape played on. "Oh, suits of armor, artificially
intelligent machines, things like that," Brianna was answering. "And a fun
little leather recliner with a LOT of extras."
 As she grinned, the camera closed in on her, and Mulder spoke into the tape
recorder again. "Special notice should be given to the subject's ears and hair.
Although Agent Scully believes the angular nature of the ears and spots on the
hair to be makeup or special effects, I am unconvinced, and believe evidence
later in this presentation will bear out my opinion."
 The video continued, the 'reporter' asking questions here and there, and
Mulder made notes from time to time. As the story unfolded on the video, Ms.
Diggers was planning a journey of some sort to entertain her friend, but had to
wait for her sister to return from a fishing trip off the Irish coast.
 Talk turned to Ms. Diggers' sisters then, and Mulder voiced part of it over
with commentary of his own. "The subject's familial relations have at the very
least an interesting connotation. Her supposed 'father' is, or was, an
operative in some branch of the Bureau. I am unable to pursue this avenue
further for his records are sealed." He let the criticism show in his voice for
that comment.
 At that point a beeping was heard off-camera. Brianna looked up and smiled.
She led Joe to his feet and said, "Cheets is home!"
 The video showed an empty couch for a moment, then blinked to a different
view, of a futuristic-looking locker room. The camera was less steady, as if it
was being shoulder-carried instead of mounted on a tripod, but the picture was
still more than adequate to view the odd creatures on the screen.
 Brianna was hugging another woman that appeared to be her age. That the other
person was female was fairly obvious, but nothing else definite could be said.
She appeared to be covered in fur, was wearing a tank top and tight shorts, and
had a long tail. Her fur was yellow and white, and spotted with brown and/or
black spots. Mulder said as much into the tape.
 "Let's see your haul!" Brianna said, while Joe greeted the furry woman with a
much more sedate "Hi, Britanny.. hi, Genn."
 "Hello," a much shorter female said with a smile. She had light chocolate
skin, pale grey hair, and, most curiously of all, slender tan horns sweeping
back from her temples over her ears. "How're you guys today?"
 "Oh fine, fine," Brianna said. "Where's your stash?"
 "Coming," Britanny smiled, her tail flicking back and forth slightly.
Momentarily, a flash of light appeared behind the newcomers, and a large tub
full of wriggling fish blinked into existence from nowhere. Mulder felt it
necessary to provide his theories on the way the fish--and presumably Britanny
and Genn--arrived in the room.
 "Cool!" Brianna gushed, hopping up and down.
 "What are you going to do with what you can't eat? Sell it?" Joe queried.
 "I'll help!" Genn grinned.
 "Quiet you two!" Britanny laughed. "Sillies! First of all, Genn, you don't
have a work visa, and second of all, there won't BE none left 'that we can't
eat'!"
 "You still gotta lot to learn," Brianna laughed to her friend, nudging him in
the ribs.
 Mulder talked to the tape recorder again for a moment, talking about the
'subjects' and their unique qualities, things he'd dredged up from here and
there.
 He was still talking when Scully walked into the office. She regarded him for
a moment, then coughed once or twice.
 He raised a hand in acknowledgement until he got to a point where he could
pause. Then he shut the tape recorder off, put the video player on pause, and
turned to face her. "You're just in time to sign off on this. I think I have a
good setup here."
 "That's tragic," Dana sighed, "because I just came from Director Skinner's
office."
 Mulder's shoulders sagged. "Don't tell me."
 "I'm sorry," she said, flicking off the video projector as she went by. "I
would think you'd be used to this by now."
 "But this has substance," Mulder protested. "Humanoid cats and true
extraterrestrials trying to get green cards and--"
 "You're arguing with the wrong person," Scully said, sitting down. "His exact
words to me were that I should caution you that if you pursue this any further,
he has two airline tickets to Tallahassee that'll be on our desks within the
hour. And between you and me, Mulder, I am not looking forward in any way to
looking at ANY kind of chads, dimpled, pregnant, hanging, or otherwise."
 Mulder just sighed, sat there for a moment, then flung the microtape recorder
across the room in frustration.

 Assistant Director Skinner sat at his desk for a few moments after dismissing
Agent Scully. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a four- digit extension.
 "I told them," he said plainly when the party on the other end answered.
"Their case is considered cold."
 He listened briefly, then said, "No sir, no questions." A few moments later,
he hung up the phone.

 Several floors away, the other party hung up his phone. He nodded to himself,
then took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
 After a moment, he flipped a switch and spoke into a microtape recorder of his
own. "Reminder to send Theodore a Christmas card," he said, and added as an
afterthought, "And see if any of his daughters' friends needs a work visa."
 He looked over the papers on his desk and the time of day, and decided to
finish it all at once. He picked up a pen and took each page in turn, signing a
single letter "M" in the lower right corner of each. He put them in his
briefcase, locked it, and left for the day.

END