Extract from Minutes of Syndicate "Getting Proactive With Bio-weapons" Meeting 30/3/99
Fat Elder: So, those responsible for the budget shortfall in the Bio-Weapons Division have been called to account?
CSM: They're on the first plane out to Antarctica. In boxes.
Fat Elder: Fabulous. But we are still left with the problem of the three billion dollar deficit in our finances. Anybody got any ideas?
Boring Elder: If we take any more money out of the world bank we're going to precipitate a global recession.
Elderly Elder: Bummer.
Fat Elder: Well, it's got to come from somewhere. Running a global shadow government costs money.
Boring Elder: I seem to recall that during our last meeting our cigarette-smoking friend inaugurated a new business initiative designed to encourage our employees to take ownership of outstanding work issues. I think we ought to implement this policy document by appointing someone to take responsibility for our present financial impecunity. And then threatening to kill them if they don't sort it out.
Fat Elder: Duly noted, Boring Elder. Who can we appoint?
Boring Elder (in aside to CSM): That was a great new initiative, by the way. It should really impound successfully on our productivity rates. It's going to look really good on your personnel assessment.
CSM: Oh, it's only what we've been doing for years. I just got Marita to type it up and send it round the office.
Fat Elder: So, who do we appoint?
CSM: What about Alex Krycek?
The Elder Who Hardly Ever Speaks: Um. if we give him the job, then who's going to drive the car?
Email, 04:12 EST 31/3/99
You £&&£!!!! You "^£)$ bastard! I'm going to £&"))£ kill you for this, you ^"%"! "(%&£ &£&&"^!!!! Where am I going to get three billion dollars, pull it out of my $&£$***?!?!?
Email, 04:21 EST 31/3/99
Oh, and I forgot to mention, you can't embezzle it from the World Bank.
Email, 04:22 EST 31/3/99
Extract from Minutes of Syndicate "Financial Planning and Misappropriation of Funds" Meeting 6/4/99
Fat Elder: So, how is Krycek doing?
CSM: He says he's still analysing the problem.
Fat Elder: Still? Let the minutes record that a memo was directed to Alex Krycek, reminding him that a new shipment of hosts is heading off to Antarctica on Friday, and unless he pulls his finger out, there's a cryopod on that shipment with his name on it.
Elderly Elder: And we've still not found somebody to drive the car.
CSM: Don't worry, I've got it covered.
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9378478a
(Noise of things being kicked around room.)
KRYCEK: Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Gotta think, gotta think. ah! Look on the internet! Millions of gullible. (sound of something being switched on) young types all on the lookout for credit card numbers and pornography! There has got to be some way to make money out of that.
KRYCEK: Come on, come on, load it up, you stupid piece of junk!
KRYCEK: What's with this "fatal exception" shit?
(Longer pause, with sound of keys being banged ferociously on keyboard, computer being switched on and off again, and then again, and then strange high whining noise that nearly always means your hard drive is having a nervous breakdown.)
KRYCEK: What the hell is the matter with this damned thing? I only just reloaded Windows the other day! What is this Blue Screen Of Death crap? The stupid son-of-a-bitch thing. hell, if I'm going to Antarctica, Bill fucking Gates is coming with me.
(More muttered swearing and sound of computer switched off and on again, random keys hit, mouse clicked on hopelessly. nothing)
KRYCEK: But first I'm going to torture the son-of-a-bitch first! Oh yeah. Teach the nerdy dickweed to make billions out of.
(Long, silent pause..)
KRYCEK: Billions out of.. Oh my God.
Extract from Minutes of Syndicate "Managing Mulder and Scully" Meeting 8/4/99
Fat Elder: Look, explain again why we can't just kill them both.
Fat Elder: Why not?
CSM: Because that's cheating. I would like the gathering to look over this request for expenses that has been submitted by Alex Krycek.
Fat Elder: Is that strictly relevant to this meeting?
CSM: No, but it's a great way to change the subject.
Boring Elder: Can't it wait for the "Ongoing Dirty Tricks Validation" meeting?
CSM: He needs the money sooner than that.
Fat Elder: Let the minutes record that our cigarette-smoking associate passed around photocopies of. Holy shit! Three million dollars?
CSM: He needs it to develop some computer software.
Elderly Elder: What kind of software?
CSM: (Smiling in a sinister fashion.) Wonderful software.
Email, 8/4/99, 17:59 EST
The Syndicate have, for the most part, agreed your expenses:
Development Costs: $1,500,000
They are not, however, paying for the following:
"A really cool stereo system" $2000
As none of the above are considered vital to the success of your assignment.
Yours in anticipation,
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9378950d
(Banging on front door)
LANGLY: Is someone going to get that? I can't come. I'm getting down with a certain little lady.
FROHIKE: You haven't finished "Tomb Raider III" yet? You complete loser.
BYERS: I'll get it.
(Sound of apartment door being opened.)
FROHIKE: Is that Mulder?
BYERS: (nervously) Not exactly. (sound of gun being cocked)
KRYCEK: Hello boys.
Extracts from minutes of Syndicate "Alien Invasion Problem Snagging" seminar 16/4/99
Fat Elder: So, we're going with, "just kill them all"?
CSM: That is my suggestion.
Boring Elder: Great, the timing couldn't be better. We're buying in a new operating system for the gene cataloguing department and with all the clones manning it about to be liquidated, we can train up new clones without giving the old ones a pay rise.
CSM: (somewhat surprised) For a start, all the old clones will be dead, and secondly, I wasn't aware we paid them.
Fat Elder: We don't. We pretend to and transfer money into false bank accounts, and then we collect it later. It means that we get corporate tax breaks on all the employee services we don't provide.
CSM: I'm impressed.
Fat Elder: It's an old trick I picked up from when I used to run the Teamsters. Speaking of money saving devices, how is young Krycek doing?
CSM: He has.. ahem. assembled a software development team and they are currently working on version 1.0.
Elderly Elder: Well, I hope he's finished soon. That young lad you found to drive the car doesn't know his arse from his elbow.
The Elder Who Hardly Ever Speaks: He's left a dent in the limo's rear fender and the other day Boring Elder was twenty minutes late for a meeting while that new boy was trying to find his way out of the Consortium parking lot.
CSM: Give him a chance, I'm sure he'll settle in eventually. And I'm sure that the Boring Elder was terribly missed at the meeting. We all live for his insights into being more "focussed on our mission statement goals and coming up with insightful solutions to our global colonisation and conspiracy proactivity issues".
Fat Elder: Let's make it a bit more definite. He's got three days to settle in or I'm going to have him shot. We never had this trouble with Krycek. Now, about this new operating system that we're buying to replace the old one, who's analysing the bids.?
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9378950d
FROHIKE: Hey, is that Fox Mulder?
MULDER: Hi, Frohike. You guys have been quiet recently.
FROHIKE: Mulder, we totally have to talk.
CyberNerd! Magazine, May Edition
THINDOWS! THE NEW OPERATING SYSTEM THAT'S GOING TO BLOW YOU AWAY!
Washington DC - Microsoft has a brand new challenger in the cut-throat world of operating systems, with infant terrible Alex Krycek debuting his innovative new operating system, "Thindows - Version 1.0" at the World Nerd Fair last week.
Krycek, cutting a dashing figure, it has to be said, amongst the usual suits and geeks that populate such events, explained the evolution of the new system to this reporter in the back of his Ferrari Testarossa.
"Oh yeah, I wrote all the software myself. I see "Thindows" as being THE operating system for the next Millennium." He continued ardently. "It's much easier to use and has a suite (I think that's what you call it) of astonishing new features that are going to just blow everyone away. It's going to be a whole new way to do business." He grins widely. "And everyone hates Microsoft so much I've just been totally overwhelmed in orders."
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9378950d
Phone Call (Cont.)
MULDER: He asked you to do what?
FROHIKE: He wanted us to design an operating system to rival Windows! Fortunately, he doesn't know much about computers so we thought we'd be smart and write him something that no sane person would ever seriously consider installing on their computer, at least if they ever wanted to use it again.
LANGLEY: Yeah, he's going to be so screwed when anyone actually tries to use it. We spent more time writing the bugs and viruses than the actual programming.
BYERS: I think we can safely say that it is going to be the most unsuccessful software launch in the history of the world. Not only will his bosses in the Syndicate want to kill him, but half the American population will as well. Unfortunately all of this means he's probably going to want to kill us now, so we're wondering if you knew of any safe houses the FBI have that we can occupy for the foreseeable future.
MULDER: Okay, boys, what does it do?
Dear Help Desk,
I have just installed Thindows and it refuses to acknowledge the existence of my floppy drive on any day of the week with an S in it. Since I only use my computer on weekends really this is very inconvenient. What do you suggest?
HELP DESK SAYS: Buy special "additional drivers for devices" software from our website for $199.00.
Dear Help Desk,
How do I switch off the pornographic screensaver you saw fit to provide with your operating system? I have grade school children.
HELP DESK SAYS: You can purchase a variety of screensaver packages from our website, starting from $39.99
Dear Help Desk,
The word processing software - "Blurb98" that came with your new operating system appears to have a virus. The minute I type the character "l" my document is immediately erased and replaced with the message "THE RAMONS TOTALLY ROCK!" Since I am presently writing a report on which my career depends I need a speedy resolution to this issue.
HELP DESK SAYS: You can purchase our special Anti-Macro Virus software for $458.79 from our website.
Dear Help Desk,
The control settings on Thindows seem to be screwed up. No matter what I put in the CD drive, it always starts running "Tomb Raider". When I try and install new software, I get about 18 little message boxes asking me, "Are you a moron? Yes/No/Cancel". If I click "No" another box will replace it asking "Are you sure? Yes/No/Cancel". And whenever I reboot, a screen comes up saying "HELP! I'm being forced to design an operating system at gunpoint! Call Fox Mulder or Dana Scully at the FBI! THIS IS COMPLETELY SERIOUS!"
HELP DESK SAYS: Ignore it and it will go away after half an hour or so. Possibly longer if you are running other programs.
Email, 04:12 EST 30/4/99
Last night was unbelievable.
Hot throbbing love,
The Personal Journal of Alex Krycek
Man. I should have got into this computer scam stuff YEARS ago. It's like being a witchdoctor. Nobody understands them so they'll do anything and pay anything for you to waggle your arms in the air, fiddle with the insides of their computer, and then charge them a shitload of money for the privilege.
Today, for instance, was a perfect day. I got woken up at noon with a call from the Consortium accountant telling me that we'd just shipped five hundred THOUSAND copies of Thindows. I was pretty pleased at this, and after the twins had got dressed and went home I gave them a ring at headquarters.
Old Smokey himself picked up the phone.
"Ah, Alex. How's it going?"
"I just made fifty million dollars in a single day. At last count, of course - we haven't collated the sales for all the peripherals at the website."
"We know, we've already emptied the account. Good work."
"You know, at this rate I should have made enough money to end this assignment in three months."
He sounded kind of weird then. Secretive. "Well, well, we'll tell you when you're done."
I didn't think anything of it. "Sure."
"Oh, and Alex?"
"We're subtracting the cost of that Ferrari out of your wages."
So what? I hung up. On with the glorious business of being a) alive and b) me. First of all, a little visit to my technical department.
My worker elves are hard at it in their lair, doubtless busily designing more problems and screw-ups into the system. And I am perfectly content to let them, because I am smart and they are stupid.
It's like this.
The Lone Gunmen are trying to thwart me by designing an operating system that nobody can use. They would try that - they're tech-heads. They can probably tell the code for an operating system from the nutritional information printed on the back of a packet of Twinkies. What I know, however, is that the more crap the damn thing is, the more money it will make. Look at Apple - they had a great, simple to understand operating system - where did it get them? The more useless any given computer is, the more it will break down - the more you have to buy things and call people to get it fixed. And since the only way to fix Thindows is to call Krycek Software, and Thindows will never ever run happily on its own, then what we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a license to make money. Since hardly anybody understands computers, and nobody, including me, understands Thindows, I have a huge global corporate clientele absolutely and utterly at my mercy.
All proof positive that hanging around the back of the bike sheds, smoking dope, interfering sexually with my female fellow truants, and cutting class is not only cooler but infinitely more useful in later life than being president of the computing club at school.
I get the standard glare as I go in, gun in hand, and wish them all a good afternoon.
This time, however, they are not alone.
"Hold it right there!"
"Drop it, Krycek!"
"Mulder! Scully! Hi!" I give them a wave.
There they are, looking all passionate and aerated. Specially Scully. God, she's cute when she's mad. She's only got little legs but they'd still look great poking out of the window of my Ferrari. I point this out to her, and this drives the pair of them into a complete gun-toting, yelling frenzy which is beautiful to watch. Should have brought a camera. Oh well.
"You murdering son-of-a-bitch!!!" seethes Mulder. Scully's jaw is hanging open, but she's in too much a temper to concentrate on shutting it. "Drop the gun! You're under arrest!"
"What for?" I ask nonchalantly, examining my gun.
"Threatening behaviour, for a start! Sexual harassment! Killing my Dad!" yells Mulder.
"Killing my sister! Carrying a concealed weapon! Being a complete bastard!" yells Scully, her little cheeks all flushed with rage. My, my. The lady doth protest too much.
"Parking your Ferrari in a no-waiting zone!"
"Forcibly making hackers design software for you!"
"Get real." I tell them. "Nobody is going to bust me for the murders. And as you can see, I do not have a concealed weapon. I am openly carrying it. And you bust me now, then millions of people around the globe are going to know that these zeroes wrote Thindows, which is going to make them marginally more popular amongst the hacking community than Josef Stalin."
The Lone Gunmen exchange worried looks.
Mulder and Scully drop their weapons slowly, looking a little stunned. Hmm. I've no sympathy really. They should have seen this coming. Scully still looks really mad. There's this little lock of hair fallen into her face. I pull out my filofax and write a little note in it. "Well, time to get back to work. If you guys have nothing further to add, I guess I'll be seeing you round."
They look at one another, at me, and then at the Lone Gunmen. The Lone Gunmen won't meet their gaze.
They file out the door, and as Scully walks by behind Mulder, I take the opportunity to shove the note with my phone number on it and accompanying commentary into her breast pocket, and since everyone will tell you that I'm not the kind of guy to pass up a good opportunity, I seize this occasion to have a little feel of the breast beneath it.
This was probably too much too soon, as I discover when I come to a second later lying on the ground, surrounded by the Lone Gunmen. My good hand is clutched protectively around my genitals, but it's a case of shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted. Damn, she was fast. One more to chalk up to experience, I guess.
Mulder and Scully have gone. I stand up, slowly.
"What the hell are you looking at? Get back to work!"
By five I feel I have spent enough time waving the gun at them, I'm getting kind of hungry. I feel I have exhausted the sexual possibilities of Saskia DuChamp, and the twins, and Janilla, and Scully is still cooking away on the backburner for now, so I arrange dinner in D.C.'s most exclusive restaurant with a supermodel called Venetia Burrows. As I talk on the mobile, the LGM pound their keyboards sullenly. That's right boys. Get real mad. Let inspiration strike.
So then on to the restaurant, meet Venetia, have quite a dull meal where she keeps having to run off to the bathroom between courses to make herself throw up, and after all that I am no longer sure I want to spend the evening participating in sexual abandon with her. I doubt she'd have the energy, and the idea of her using that mouth on me after vomiting through it all night is kind of a turn off. So I decide to treat myself to something really special - I'll drive the car round to Mulder's apartment and give him a damn good taunting. I can always order something from the escort agency later.
So, back into the Ferrari, leaving Venetia in the bathroom (and the unpaid bill lying on the table) and it's round to Mulder's place.
As luck would have it, there's a light on in his window. I park up on the opposite side of the street, staring up at it. You wouldn't know it, but this particular street corner is like Conspiracy Central. There's always someone surveilling Mulder, or checking out his window to see if he's sending the Bat signal out for information, or just hanging out there waiting to run into him, or going up to trash his apartment, or threaten him, or simply surveiling all the people doing the surveiling. Oftentimes there isn't parking space for them all and they have to park in the next street. I lean out of the car, looking about for anybody I recognise from the office, and sure enough Jerry from the Black Ops department is parked up behind me, taking notes. I get out and we shoot the breeze for a few minutes, before Jerry drives off. I told him I'm here to relieve him. Hee hee.
I blast the horn and it plays a few bars of the 1812 overture. Cheesy, I know, but it beats "La Cucaracha". I do this a few more times until his window opens and his mussed dark head sticks out. Catching sight of me, waving happily from the front seat, I can literally see his jaw clench at a hundred yards. He slams the window shut again.
It's been good, but I need more, so I lock the car and cross the street into his building. I'm turning through my keyring looking for the key to Mulder's apartment, which all Consortium members are issued with upon joining. I find it, and hey presto, I'm in his apartment.
It looks deserted. I get a bad feeling, and the expression on my face is probably like the one that Clouseau wears before Cato leaps out at him from somewhere. And sure enough, nearly as fast as Scully, he rockets straight into me from his hiding place behind the couch, knocking me into his front door. The first punch knocks the wind out of me, but I still have enough presence of mind to jam an elbow hard into his kidneys. As he yells and rolls away in pain, I pull out my gun and point it.
This is so much fun. I'll be ready for that girl from the escort agency when I ring them later. Mulder is about to leap again, but sees the gun, so settles instead for rubbing the sore bit on his back and glaring at me.
"What do you want, you evil bastard?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing." I say sweetly, though I am still gasping some. "I just wanted to drop by and let you know how I'm doing. I'm Mr. Legit now, Mulder. Today I made fifty million bucks for the Consortium, I own a cool car, and my diary is so full of appointments with girls who want to have sex with me I'm actually having to delegate them to other people. So I just wanted to drop by and say, "Ha ha ha, loser."" I pick myself up off the floor, checking that the false arm is still in place. It is. I dust myself off.
Mulder, sprawled on the floor, is looking at me. There is a strange light in his eyes.
"Fifty million, huh?"
"Yep. I'm the Golden Boy now."
"I bet you are."
"No more shady lurking around for you then, seeing as you're so high profile."
"That's about the size of it."
"And I bet you have to be real careful now, being in the public eye, what you can and can't do in terms of your job at the Consortium."
"Fifty million in a day, huh?"
And this is starting to get strange. His eyes are cunning, secretive. The strange thing about Mulder is that while he can be immensely stupid in lots of ways, in other ways he's eerily bright.
In any case, he doesn't look mad anymore. He looks kind of. gleeful.
And that can't be allowed, so since Scully clearly hasn't told him about the moment I shared with her breast today, because he hasn't mentioned it, I tell him all and that does the trick.
Two sidekicks, three punches, and a bite later I'm heading back down to the car, enjoying the bruises sure in the knowledge that Mulder probably isn't enjoying his.
Ah, it's a beautiful world.
Later, $5000 worth of champagne and call girl later, I am lying on my bed, watching Miss Trixie coil away her whip and pick up her cans of whipped cream, my thoughts wander back to the expression on Mulder's face. The one he was wearing before I told him about groping Scully, that is. What did he look so damn smug about?
Ah, forget him.
Tomorrow I will tell the LGM we're launching Version 2.0 of Thindows. Yay. The sooner I make this money, the sooner I'll be back in the loop. I'm already missing all the skulking about the place. I skulk through the penthouse, but it's not the same.
I'm still wondering about Mulder though. What does he know?
Hell, what does it matter?
Time to go to sleep and wake up to another fabulous day. Hah.
I bet Mulder would give anything to be me.
Email, 04:12 EST 15/5/99
Regarding your email.
We are delighted with your decision to launch Thindows Version 2.0, thus rendering the old one obsolete after only being on the market for three weeks. It shows real financial acumen. You clearly have a talent for this.
You will, however, have to hold on to your present assignment for a little longer, for even though you have indeed made the three billion required, there's also the question of the interest on it, which also has to be generated. (I mentioned that in the first email, didn't I?) That and the fact that we need to buy a new Consortium limo after the old one perished in an unfortunate accident. Which was nobody's fault, by the way. So we can't, as yet, give you an exact date when you will be able to come in for debriefing.
I'm sure you're enjoying your present assignment, and have no wish to move on, anyway. A lifestyle of wild and unbridled excess is said to be very popular amongst young people, if MTV is anything to go by.
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9947619d 16/5/98
Dana Scully's Apartment
"Beep. Oh, hi, honey, it's your mom. Just phoning to see how you were. And checking to see if you've met any eligible men since I spoke to you yesterday. Bye."
"Beep. Scully! Ring me at the office when you get in. I have the most amazing set of slides to show you. I'll be here until three. Three AM, that is. Call me, bye."
"Beep. Hey, Scully. It's me, Alex. My offer still stands you know. One million bucks if you let me fondle the other one. You're not in so you're probably out with that loser Mulder chasing lights in the sky. Any time you want to give a real man a try, call me. I KNOW you've got my number."
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9947621f 17/5/98
Fox Mulder's Apartment
"Beep. Sorry, wrong number."
"Beep. Hey Mulder! Stop watching porn, get up off the damn couch, and answer the phone.Click."
MULDER: Hello, Alex. How are you?
KRYCEK: Mulder! You were in! You were screening your calls. Waiting for me?
MULDER: Not particularly. (Sounding bored.) Did you want something?
KRYCEK: Just wanted to let you know I'm still incredibly rich and happy and having a fabulous time. Still a little wired though, I must have snorted your entire annual salary's worth of coke the other night at this rock star party I went to with Naomi and Kate. They LOVE the car, by the way.
MULDER: (placidly) That's nice.
KRYCEK: Yeah, who would have guessed that an. oh, it's coming back to me now. "an invertebrate scum-sucker" like me would be partying hearty with all the world's glitterati. especially after shooting your Dad and all, which I know you're pretty cut up about still. Heh heh heh.
MULDER: (still placid) Well, some good has come of it.
KRYCEK: (suspicious) What do you mean?
MULDER: (still ominously placid) Well, I mean, I guess you're out of all that now. That running around with a gun and lurking and being evil and everything. You're the model citizen now, you can't get involved with all that stuff anymore. What, you're stimulating the economy so much - you're practically a good guy.
KRYCEK: (smug but still worried) Don't sweat it, Mulder, I'll be back.
MULDER: (with mock surprise) Really? Are you sure? I mean, you're making a hell of a lot of money now for the Consortium. They aren't going to want you to step down now. Not now. Now you're doing so well and are hell, almost respectable. Have they said they're going to let you get out of this assignment yet? I mean, I think you told me you only had to make three billion dollars when you phoned two weeks ago, and you already made that, didn't you, Alex?
KRYCEK: They're just stalling. (sounding desperately worried)
MULDER: (twisting the knife a few more degrees, in the same calm lilting voice) And they say Spender is really fitting in as the new chauffeur. They've got him wearing a little uniform and everything. You know, sometimes I really miss the old times. In fact, just the other day, Scully and I broke into this secret government facility, and as we were hiding in the boiler room, I turned to her and said, "It's just not the same without Krycek here to foil our schemes, murder random members of our families, and screw us over." And she agreed. After she remembered who you were, of course. I had to remind her. It took her a couple of seconds, but she did.
KRYCEK: I know what you're trying to do, Mulder.
MULDER: But really, Alex, you're better off out of it. All that running around, shooting, hiding, dressing in leather jackets, gloating behind your gun, getting into fisticuffs, spreading terror and chaos and darkness wherever you go, being drawn into complex global conspiracies, the rush of adrenaline as another piece of the plot comes together, the fantastical race to rule the world when the time comes. It's over-rated, as I'm sure you must remember.
KRYCEK: Shut up, Mulder.
MULDER: (undaunted) And I'm sure the colonists will really need software barons when the invasion actually happens.just leave all the other stuff to Scully and me.
KRYCEK: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPBEFORE I COME ROUND THERE AND KILL YOU YOU SANCTIMONIOUS PORN-ADDICTED SPOOKY BAAAAASTARD!!!
MULDER: Alex, you sound kind of stressed. Maybe you should just relax with some drugs and champagne and hookers. Go for a little ride in your car. I'm sure you'll adjust eventually. (Click) Hello? Alex?
Hangs up and then picks phone up again. Dials number.
MULDER: Just had your sex pest on the line.
SCULLY: Oh yeah? How did it go?
MULDER: (doing little victory dance in front of window, while holding phone) What can I tell you, Scully? He shoots, he scores.!!!
The Personal Journal of Alex Krycek - May 24th, 1998.
Stayed in bed till four because was too depressed to get up. Saskia phoned again, mad because I stood her up, as well as Gill, Lucinda, and Marianne. Eventually ripped phone out of the wall. Plugged it in again.
Called Scully. She was at work.
"Oh, Mr. Krycek." Polite and businesslike.
"Would you. I, um."
"Mr. Krycek, I hope this is official FBI business. You know, I think I probably need to transfer you back to the switchboard."
".Because I work on the X-Files, you know, on the shadow conspiracy, global domination, weird science type of cases. You won't have anything to do with that now, I understand, so I'm sure there are plenty of other agents that can help you with anything that's bothering you. I'll just put you through to one of the non-spooky departments."
"Don't hang up."
"Putting you through."
"Scully." Don't go. I need you to hate me.
A different voice. "Tax fraud, littering laws, and moving violations. how can we help?"
I hang up and then rip the phone out of the wall again, and smash it to pieces. Then I trash the penthouse, which is sort of fun but kind of short-sighted, as I now can't summon the maid on the phone to clear it all up, so spend the next two hours tidying it up again. Still less time than it would have took me to buy new penthouse.
Exhausted after all this, so go back to bed.
Dear Help Desk,
If anything, Thindows Version 2.0 has got more bugs than the first version. Whenever I try and print something, a smell of burning wiring comes out of the box. The other night, my young son reported that Satanic images and strange chucklings were coming out of the chassis in his bedroom, and disturbing his sleep. This was particularly upsetting as the computer was switched off at the time.
HELP DESK SAYS: This is a bug in the mailer daemon program, which also runs an actual "Demon Conjuring" program from the CMOS battery when the unit is switched off. Should your hard drive become possessed by actual demons because of this program, you can purchase our special fully automated "Exorcism" program from the website for a mere £499.00 - a small price to pay for peace of mind. You don't want a doorway to Hell in your young son's bedroom, do you? What kind of mother are you? Get quoting that credit card number right away!
Dear Help Desk,
I have no idea what you have done to my computer, but it is behaving very strangely. It will only ever run Quake II, and when I try to stop it or close the program, it gives me an electric shock.
Also, the other night I was in bed having sex with my wife and the computer switched itself on and proceeded to criticise my performance in bed. When I got up to turn it off again, it gave me an electric shock that threw me across the room. Then it yelled: Behold, I am Yorg the Mighty! Master at Quake II! Bite me, puny human!
I haven't dared go near it since, and we are now staying at a motel.
How the hell do you explain this?
HELP DESK SAYS: Could be demon possession, but more likely Thindows special "intuitive software" has made an emotional identification with Quake II, which is on your hard drive, under "diagnostics program". Make sure you don't leave anything that could be converted into a weapon near the workstation and cut the power to your house without entering it. When the thing runs out of power, take it away somewhere and then burn it and buy a new one. See our website for more details.
The Personal Journal of Alex Krycek May 30th, 1998.
Woke up after horrible dream and then realised what I had to do.
Drove over to LGM and told them the plan.
"I need you guys to get me out of this mess." I say.
"Why should we?" demands the blonde one.
"Because I'm aiming a gun at your head, nerd."
"Fair comment." Says the little guy that looks like a troll. "What do you want?"
"You have to make Version 3.0." I say. "And I don't care what you do, but it has to lose us money. Lots of money."
"But, Krycek," says the one in the suit. "We've been sabotaging Thindows since the minute you barged in here the first time. It seems that the wilder and more unmanageable Thindows becomes, the more money we make."
"The more money *I* make, you mean."
"The more money your cigarette-smoking boss makes, you mean." Says the blond one. Man, he's really pushing it today. Maybe I should shoot him, give him some kind of flesh wound, just to prove I still am a force to be reckoned with in the dastardly deeds department. But he's probably a sissy who would faint at the sight of blood. And then I'm down one member of the technical team at Krycek Software, and since I'm kind of strangely dependent on these three geeks, I guess sweet revenge will just have to wait.
"Could we rewrite it so it works properly?" I ask.
"Well, um." They give each other a worried look.
"What is the problem with that?" I snap.
"Um, well, we're hackers, Mr. Krycek." Says the one in the suit. "Writing effective operating system software isn't our forte."
There is a nervous silence.
"What are you trying to say, geeks?"
"We can't write operating software worth shit." Says the troll. "We just took a version of Windows, and altered some of the code. If you want an operating system that works properly, then you're going to have to invest in a big building in Seattle and a small army of Microserfs."
"And even then, it will probably still be crap." Chimes in Blondie.
I am thinking furiously, which I like to think is one of those things I do best. The Consortium are not going to shell out for a big building in Seattle and an army of anything - not when they can manage to make so much money armed only with a one-armed psychopath and three techy dropouts working under the threat of gunfire. Dammit.
"You guys are supposed to be geniuses!" I yell.
"Look," says the suit. "It's like this. You want crazy conspiracy theories, ingenious hacking, and first rank analysis of classified material."
"As well as free cable for life." chips in the troll with a scary salesman's grin.
".You come to us. If you want an operating system, try the phone book. We didn't ask for you to come in here and start waving your damn gun around." The suit is quite worked up by now. I smell rebellion in the weedy, socially maladjusted, rock music loving, and don't-get-out-enough ranks.
"There is something else we can do." Says Blondie suddenly, "There is always the Garganto option."
The other two grow pale.
"No there isn't." says the suit hurriedly.
The troll looks thoughtful. "It only works in theory."
"What only works in theory?" I demand, pointing my gun to add emphasis.
They exchange glances.
THE LONE GUNMEN'S TOP SECRET DEVELOPMENT FILES!!!! KEEP OUT!!!
The Garganto Program! User's Manual
Get a load of computers all on the same network and near a major power source, like a large city.
Insert the attached code into their telnet software - (see attachment)
When enough of the networked computers are online at the same time, they will then use their combined powers to create a large virtual mutant monster powered by radiation that will destroy large sections of aforementioned large city until stopped by helicopter attack, nuclear weapon, or the actions of one or two plucky and heroic individuals.
Huge mutant monster destroying the city! How cool is that?
Complete hacker and virus composer respect will stick to you and endure forever.
Catastrophic destruction and loss of life and property, possibly running into billions.
Get caught and you will go to jail for a very long time. (see point above this one)
Development Issues -
Try to think of some way to program monster so it doesn't destroy our apartment block.
Maybe cool logo design or slogan can glow in neon green on monster's back.
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9985438k 7/6/98
Fox Mulder's Apartment
FROHIKE: Hey, Mulder, how's it going?
MULDER: Fine. You ever sort out your Krycek problem?
FROHIKE: (nervously) Heh heh heh. oh that. That's, um, actually, kind of what I'm calling about. Listen, I really don't think we ought to talk about this on the phone. Can you come round? And, um, bring Scully?
MULDER: Sure. She was going to go to a wedding she was invited to, by one of her old friends that miraculously remembered her, where she was going to party down and get tipsy and mix with normal people. But I can talk her out of it.
FROHIKE: Great. Fine. um, we'll see you here, then?
Extracts from minutes of Syndicate "Spending All The Money That Krycek Makes For Us" meeting 8/6/99
FAT ELDER: Version 3.0? Already?
CSM: Yes. Personally I think it's a mistake - not enough people have bought Version 2.0, but he's insistent. Already paid for the advertising and had the new version written. He seems very keen - re-invested.
FAT ELDER: Hmm. You said that we might have problems maintaining his commitment - he seemed depressed to you.
CSM: Well, he seems happy enough now.
FAT ELDER: Forgive me if I can't share your enthusiasm for a suddenly happy Alex Krycek. Frankly I find that worrying.
CSM: Hmm. You've got a point there.
ELDERLY ELDER: Does anybody know what happened to Boring Elder?
ELDERLY ELDER: I just mention it since we haven't seen him since the car crash.
CSM: Just forget about the Boring Elder.
ELDERLY ELDER: I don't remember voting that we kill him.
CSM: We didn't kill him! He absolutely and positively did NOT die in a Consortium limo driven by my son! All right?
ELDERLY ELDER: I was only asking.
CSM: (angry) Stop asking!
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9997623d 10/6/98
Stavros' Café Bar
Mulder, F. and Scully, D. sitting in quiet, intimate coffee shop nook and regarding each other over their steaming cups of cappuccino.
SCULLY: You know, Mulder, I've been thinking about. things.
MULDER: What kinds of things?
SCULLY: About. about what happened that time in your hallway.
MULDER: What thing that happened in my hallway?
SCULLY: You know.
MULDER: My informant X getting shot to death there?
SCULLY: No. the other thing.
MULDER: Do you mean that time I was waiting out there and burst in and we held Skinner at gunpoint?
SCULLY: (coldly) No. I mean the almost kissing thing.
MULDER: Ah. (long pause) I kind of knew you meant that thing. I just said the other stuff as part of my famous distancing tactics.
SCULLY: I know you did, Mulder.
MULDER: So, um, w-what about that thing?
SCULLY: I. I don't know. I was just mentioning it. You know.
MULDER: Oh. I see.
(Long silence. Both agents stare into the depths of their coffees.)
MULDER: Oh, sorry. You first.
SCULLY: No, you first.
MULDER: Oh, um, okay. (another lengthy pause) I just was going to say that. well.
SCULLY: (leaning closer in, as he's grown quieter) Well.?
MULDER: (looking up, and realising his face is now very near her own) I.
(They are drawing imperceptibly closer)
(Their lips are nearly touching)
(Just as their lips are about to meet, there is a deafening roar, and suddenly a gigantic scaly leg comes crashing through the roof of the coffee shop, squashing the couple at the table next to them. They are flung back against the wall.)
SCULLY: (muttering) Dammit, dammit, dammit, I'm cursed, I tell you, cursed.
SCULLY: (hopefully) Yes, Mulder?
MULDER: Don't just sit there! Look! It's an X-File! (scrambling to his feet) And it's getting away!
Consortium Surveillance Tape 9999832e 16/5/98
Walter Skinner's Office
SKINNER: .but since you saved the entire city from destruction, the Mayor is willing to overlook the damage to the Washington monument.
MULDER: Well, that's nice of him.
SCULLY: Ow. Oww ow.
SKINNER: Agent Scully, should you be out of hospital yet?
SCULLY: I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine, I tell you. I'm completely fine. I just have to keep taking the morphine for the next few weeks. And avoid driving or operating heavy machinery. And besides, Mulder needs someone to push his wheelchair until his arm is out of the cast.
SKINNER: Scully, you're on crutches, and you've suffered massive head injuries after being struck by falling pieces of helicopter. Don't you think someone else should be pushing Mulder?
SCULLY: Who's Mulder? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot. It's the brain surgery, you know. Affects memory. But that should pass. what was I just saying?
MULDER: Scully, my leg is itchy under the cast.
SCULLY: Which one?
SKINNER: Get out, the pair of you.
The Personal Journal of Alex Krycek August 13th, 1998.
It was dark.
Which is just the way I like it. I sat down on a crate, stencilled with the words "TOP SECRET US GOVT BIOLOGICAL WEAPON - PLEASE OPEN THIS END" and inspected my gun.
It was a wrench to sell the Ferrari, but hey, they'll be plenty of opportunity to buy more, one day, when I rule the world. It's the last link I have to my brief, incandescent career as a software mogul. The Consortium are still pissed at me - I suspect I'm probably lucky to still be alive. But it was fun while it lasted. Well, it was fun at the beginning. And the end. The Lone Gunmen were right - a giant mutant monster destroys Washington DC - how cool is that?
I get up. I can hear movement near the door.
I creep forward, but then suddenly find myself caught in the blinding beam of a magnalite. I can tell it's him from the sudden intake of breath.
"Krycek!" he yells, and the magnalite is dropped. I groan as about a hundred and seventy pounds of Mulder comes at me like a flying squirrel and rolls me over on the floor. Scully is shouting, picking up the torch, waving her gun, sounding really mad. Really cute, as well. I haven't got around to giving her my new number yet. Well, I haven't seen much of either of them as they can only have got out of plaster a little while ago.
Mulder is trying to smash my skull open on the concrete, yelling all the while, so I treat him to a left hook and then a knee in the gut. Bloody but unbowed, he smacks a fist into my ribs, and I hear a crack. Even through the pain though, I am smiling a little, which is probably driving him more nuts than ever. I roll over and give him a hard kick in the gut. I am filled with an insane joy. It's the little things in life that make a person happy.
There's no place like home.