deren Gesichter sehen ihm aehnlich, by Basingstoke	     	      
Many thanks to Laura Jacquez Valentine for a thorough beta. 

 Note: As this is an X-Files crossover, traditional warnings are
problematic. This story contains material that may be disturbing to some
readers. 

  

 It started with the hypnotist. I mean it started before then, but for the
purpose of spinning a yarn it started with the hypnotist. 

 "You are feeling very sleepy, very relaxed," the hypnotist guy said. I
figured I would give it a shot. 

 Fraser told me once that I had been abducted by aliens, and I've been
having occasional nightmares ever since. Weird ones where I'm in an oily
room filled with little alien guys. It doesn't sound like much but it's
creepy. 

 The hypnotist seemed like a good idea at the time. "You let your mind
drift into the sky," he said. "What do you see?" 

 I saw stars, lots of them, and the little bright spots that are the
planets. Big rough moon. A moving black patch blocking out the stars. 

 I woke up nauseated. 

 "That was interesting," the hypnotist said. 

 "Where the can?" I asked. 

 So, puking and no new information about aliens and me. I didn't go back. 

  

 At work I caught a disappearance, possible kidnapping. Hate those. 

 I interviewed the husband, a mechanic with no grudges against him other
than the usual, while Fraser made the puffin face at the baby. His wife,
the missing woman, was an emergency room nurse. Also no grudges. Everyone
loved them. 

 "It was about three in the morning," he said. "Jack started crying and it
was her turn so she went to check on him. But he just kept crying and I
couldn't hear her so I got up to see what was going on, and I found Jack
still in his crib and Mary was gone." 

 "You didn't hear anything?" 

 "No. Nothing." 

 "Anything missing? Car keys?" 

 He shook his head. "Nothing. Her clothes and keys are still here. All
that's gone is what she was wearing." 

 I looked over and Fraser was investigating a big mark on the carpet, like
a stain or maybe a burn. "Do you know what this is from?" he asked the
dad. 

 "No--but you know, my wife did the cleaning. I don't really notice the
floors." He tangled his hands up in his hair. "Do you think you'll be able
to find her?" 

 "We'll try." Poor guy. I guess there are always worse things than getting
divorced; at least I knew where Stella was and if she was alive. 

 Fraser was still poking around the stain. 

 "Anything useful?" 

 He looked up. "Probably nothing." 

 We scouted out the house but there was nothing. Doors were locked from
the inside. She apparently just vanished into thin air. I hated the case. 

 I grabbed Fraser's ear when we got back to the car. "Probably nothing? Do
not do that, Fraser, let me know what you are thinking." 

 He sighed and looked off into space, just letting me hang onto his ear
like a dummy. "It reminds me of something, Ray, but I'm not quite sure
what yet. I'll let you know when it comes to me." 

 "You bug the bejesus out of me, you know that?" I let go of his ear,
feeling annoyed anyway. 

 "Yes Ray. I know that, Ray." 

 "Okay. Hot dogs sound good for lunch?" 

 He smiled. "They sound wonderful." 

  

 I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am a big old pervert
and my intentions toward Fraser when it comes to hot dogs are not even a
little bit honorable. Never have been, never will be. 

 Either he didn't know or he didn't mind, because he squeezed ketchup
along that baby and stuck it in his mouth without a moment's hesitation.
Yeah. Even the biting thing didn't turn me off. 

 I ate my own lunch and thought about dick. Old habit. They die
hard--habits that is. 

 That's when I noticed the ugly little dog. It looked strangely familiar.
"Have you seen that dog around a lot recently?" I pointed with my hot dog.
Dief looked at it hopefully. 

 Fraser looked at the dog. "I tend not to notice dogs unless they bother
Diefenbaker, Ray." 

 "You? Mr. Sees-Everything?" 

 Fraser just gave me a that's-just-silly-Ray look. "Dogs rarely commit
crimes." 

 I waited for it-- 

 "Although there was one incident in Tuktoyaktuk..." 

 I grinned and ate my hot dog as Fraser talked himself out. 

 The little mutt followed us back to the station. 

  

 Two days later the dog was still there. It was creeping me out. 

 I was dropping Fraser off at the consulate and the dog was sitting at the
end of the street watching us. Thing is, I saw it when we left the station
too, and there's no way it could get this far that fast. 

 "Fraser, look at that dog." 

 Fraser looked. "It appears to be a terrier mix, Ray." 

 "It's the same dog as before." 

 "Is it?" 

 "Yes! Doesn't that strike you as being kind of queer?" 

 Fraser blinked. "It's a dog, Ray." 

 "It's Superdog." 

 "It's a terrier." 

 "It is evil." I made the evil eye sign against it and the mutt hid behind
a car. "See?" 

 Fraser looked at me. "I though you were Catholic, Ray." 

 "What the hell does that have to do with anything?" 

 "Well, Catholic dogma dictates that animals do not have souls, and evil
presupposes a soul for its very existence. Therefore it's very interesting
that you would consider an animal evil, if in fact you are Catholic." 

 "Fraser!" 

 He did the wide eyes thing and gave me his 100% attention. 

 "I am trying to alert you to something hinky so that you can help me
figure out what to do about it." 

 Fraser was still giving me wide eyes. "What do you think is happening,
Ray?" 

 "There is an evil dog from hell following me and I want to know why." 

 "Are you quite sure it's the same dog?" 

 "Yes!" 

 "Perhaps it's lost and you resemble its master." 

 Should have known he would be reasonable. "I'm calling Animal Control." 

 "Oh, dear. Let me get Diefenbaker inside; he still bears a grudge. I'll
see you tomorrow." Fraser waved and went inside. 

 I pulled out my cell phone and looked over, and the dog was not ten feet
away. Startled me. I didn't hear it walk. 

 I sat cross-legged on the hood of my car and dialed, staring at the
little monster. 

 "Animal Control." 

 I cleared my throat. "I want to report a loose dog." I gave them the
address of the Consulate. The rotten little dog kept creeping closer until
it was right beside my car looking up at me. 

 It had big black eyes. Big, empty, flat black eyes with no whites. 

 It put its feet up on the tire and I shot backwards, almost fell on my
ass on the other side of the hood. Good thing there was no traffic. I
unlocked the door and opened it, and when I looked down the little fucker
was standing right at my feet. I jumped in the car, slammed the door and
raced out of there. 

 I don't know why I was so scared. I do not know. I just knew that ugly
little dog was evil. 

 I had nightmares that night but I couldn't remember them. 

  

 The disappearance case went nowhere fast. Nothing missing, no witnesses,
no funky credit cards reports or phone messages. Eventually we had to
shelve it. I felt sorry for the guy and doubly sorry for the kid, but
that's the way it goes. 

 And for once Fraser didn't protest when we shelved the case. Should have
told me something, eh? 

  

 A couple-few days later Fraser and I were checking out an armed robbery
at a convenience store, trying to figure out where the bagman dropped his
gun, when somebody shot at our heads. 

 Fraser is no lightweight. Oof. I squirmed out from under him and we took
cover behind the cashier's desk. 

 We got the robbers, that's the thing. "Think they had buddies?" I fished
out my glasses, but there wasn't anything to see. 

 "Possibly. But that sounded like a rifle." 

 "Buddies with rifles?" 

 "Sniper rifles?" 

 Another shot cut right through the corner of the desk less than a foot
from Fraser's head. Two layers of metal barely slowed it down. "Fall back
now," I said, and we made for the back door. 

 I made it out first and there was a big white flash and I must have
passed out, because I slept for two days. 

 I dreamed someone put a black mask over my face. The mask melted and
sucked up into my eyes and my nose and my mouth, and it should have been
nasty but it wasn't. I felt like I should have been screaming but was too
dopey to make the effort. 

 Then the nightmare changed into a work dream, like one of those naked
dreams, only I wasn't naked. I dreamed I was sitting at my desk doing
paperwork and I wanted to do one thing but actually did another. I dreamed
I talked to Welsh and told him the wrong information--I wanted to tell him
about the white flash but didn't. I wanted to tell him about my nightmares
but didn't. I dreamed I treated him like a stranger. 

 When I woke up it was two days later, and I was at home in my bed, and it
had all happened. I think. I wasn't sure. I felt weird. 

 There were ballistics reports on the bullet that was fired at us--case
files on my coffee table that I thought I had done in the dream. So it
must have been real, but why did it all feel so strange? 

 I called Fraser. Fraser told me to come over--he sounded worried, so I
went. 

 The consulate door was unlocked. Hinky. Fraser's careful about the
Consulate. But when I got inside, it seemed okay. I could hear was Fraser
talking to Dief. What was strange was that Dief seemed to be answering him
back. 

 I pinched myself. Ow. 

 Dief was making the same noise as always. It's just that suddenly it made
sense to me. 

 "Do you think I should go back?" said Fraser. 

 "It's an option," said Dief. 

 "I'm worried about Ray." 

 "So am I," Dief said, and then I knocked on the door. 

 "Am I crazy?" I asked Fraser. 

 "I strongly doubt that you are crazy," Fraser said. "You seem to be
admirably well-balanced." 

 "Because I keep hearing Dief talking." 

 "Oh dear." Fraser looked up at the ceiling for a minute. "Let me put on
the teakettle and we can talk this over." 

 He made us Earl Grey. See, you hang out with him, you learn about tea.
This kind isn't bad. 

 "What happened in the alley after we got shot at, Fraser?" 

 "You staggered for a moment. I thought perhaps you were injured or
unwell, but you recovered quickly and had no further problems." 

 "That's it?" 

 "That's all I saw." 

 I rubbed my face. "I feel like I've been asleep for two days." 

 "You weren't." 

 "It's like I dreamed I was at work, like I was sleepwalking or something.
And I know in my head that it all happened, but in my heart--it wasn't me.
I do not know what is going on." 

 Fraser rubbed his eyebrow. "I have some knowledge of this condition." 

 "Condition? You mean like a disease? I'm sick?" 

 "No." He grabbed my arm. "I can't tell you anything more at this time. I
only ask that you trust me." 

 Sure. Trust him. Jump out a window, been there done that. "I trust you,
Fraser. But no lakes, huh?" 

 "I believe the chance of lake involvement in this matter is quite small,
Ray." And I should have laughed at that but I didn't, because he didn't
look happy at all. Not at all. 

  

 I crashed out at the consulate that night. Too freaked to drive home. 

 Fraser slept on the floor beside me. And Dief, that boy can snore. But I
kept hearing little words and phrases coming from him--"good smell" or
"big mouse." Creepy as hell. 

 I crashed but I didn't sleep. I looked at the ceiling and listened to
Fraser breathe. Every time I closed my eyes I started to dream of black
oceans and blood red vines grabbing at my feet. So I didn't sleep a wink. 

  

 There's only so long you can go without sleep. I managed fifty-one hours
before I crashed like a crippled 747--people screaming, air hoses
dropping, pilots getting drunk--uh, that doesn't make any sense. Fuck you.
I'm tired. 

 I crashed. 

 I dreamed that I was wrapped in thready red vines underwater. And it was
kind of nice, peaceful, just swaying there in the water, attached to a big
rock. 

 Then the black wave swept through the water. It was heavy, like molasses,
and flowed underneath me first; it crept up inch by inch over my pretty
red vines. I tried to bust out but they had me trapped. 

 I breathed in the black water and woke up gasping. I'd never been so
conscious of my lungs in my entire life. Breathe, breathe, in and out. 

 Sunday afternoon. I needed coffee; there was no way I was sleeping any
more. 

 There was a little bakery place with great coffee about two blocks down
from my apartment. I pulled on some clothes and headed out. 

 The fresh air was actually fresh for once. Felt nice. It was cold as sin,
but that just helped wake me up. Nothing like a cold slap in the face
first thing in the morning. 

 My cop instincts pinged. I stood and rummaged around in my pockets until
I figured out why: there was a big blond thug-looking guy sitting in a big
black car outside my apartment building. Not waiting, just sitting. 

 He was looking at me. My gun was upstairs. Damn. But my phone--coat
pocket, check. Good thing my bad habits were predictable. I started
walking to see what the guy did. 

 He didn't do anything. I would have heard an engine like that fire up,
but it didn't. I made it to the bakery without anything happening. 

 There was another, identical car sitting across the street from the
bakery with another, identical guy sitting inside. I eyed him. He eyed me.
I went inside and got some coffee and jelly donuts and called the station
to tell them I was being followed. Quiet engine, I guess. 

 I left the bakery while the uniform was talking to the guy across the
street. 

 Except that when I got back to my place, the first guy was still there. I
went inside cautiously and called Welsh. 

 "I'm being stalked by identical twins." 

 "I'll call Geraldo." 

 I took the stairs rather than the elevator. "It's weird. They're not
doing anything, just sitting there in the car." 

 "But they got your instincts going?" 

 "Exactly. With that sniper shot and all." I reached my floor. "I'm
heading for my apartment now. I'm unarmed. Nothing but my razor wit." 

 "So you're defenseless. Okay, the uniform just called in and said the guy
at the bakery played innocent. She's heading down your way to check out
the other guy." 

 "Great. Thanks." My door was still locked. When I got inside, nothing was
moved. "Things look fine." 

 "Can you see the street from your window?" 

 "Wrong side of the building." 

 "Call me if anything weird happens." He hung up. I drank my coffee and
thought about the meaning of life. 

  

 I dozed on the couch to the sound of the TV. I dreamed that red vines
crept over my windows and doors, trapping me in the apartment. 

 I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my door. It was Fraser and
Dief bearing gifts of chicken pad Thai. 

 "How are you feeling?" Fraser asked. 

 I shrugged. "Okay." 

 "You look terrible. Have you been sleeping?" 

 I shook my head. 

 "Ray." 

 "Been having weird dreams. It's probably nothing." 

 "Dreams tell you a great deal about your mental state. Your mind isn't
nothing." 

 I laughed. "Tell my eighth grade homeroom teacher that." Mrs. Pinker,
evil old bat. She yelled at me once for breathing air that smart kids
could have breathed. I grabbed a carton of pad Thai and some chopsticks. 

 Dief cozied up under the coffee table and rested his head on my boot. "He
smells scared," he whined. 

 Fraser sighed. "It's been a trying couple of days, Dief." 

 "I ain't scared. I've just had weird dreams." 

 Dief shoved his nose into my knee. "You'd feel better if you shared your
dinner," he said, giving me big begging eyes. 

 Fraser frowned. "Manners, Dief." 

  

 We went out to the park later and I found out I could hear all the dogs
talking. 

 It was weird. Duh, but I mean it was really weird. Most of them weren't
as smart as Dief so they talked in one or two words. Like this little toy
poodle that came running along dragging its leash and yapping "run run run
run run run run run run run." His old lady owner was chasing after it, so
Fraser naturally leaned down and scooped it up. 

 "Big big big big pet pet wag wag wag." 

 "Oh, thank you so much, young man," the lady said, and gave Fraser a
peppermint. 

 They walked away. "Walk walk walk pee pee pee!" The poodle started
sniffing around in the grass. 

 Dief wandered over and licked my hands. "You're mean for not sharing." 

 "Thai gives you indigestion, Diefenbaker," Fraser said. 

 Ray Kowalski, lunatic. Somehow I thought losing my mind would sting or
something. I at least thought I would notice. 

  

 A few more days and nothing strange happened. No weird identical twins
with silent cars. No shots from the blue. And I stayed the hell away from
dogs. 

 I should have known it was too good to be true. Because then that rotten
little dog showed up again. Followed me around all day, apartment to
station to crime scenes. 

 I left Huey and Dewey at a crime scene and walked down an alley to my
car. I thought: Fraser doesn't think it's anything. It's just a terrier.
Fraser would notice if something funny was going on. 

 I looked behind me and sure enough, there it was, following me down the
alley. 

 I thought: maybe it's a bunch of identical dogs following me, like those
identical guys in their cars. 

 I looked behind me and where the dog stood, there was a man, and that was
it, I ran like a bat out of hell. 

 Either *that* was fucked up or *I* was fucked up and I
just...didn't...know any more. So I freaked. I jumped back in the car and
ran straight for Fraser. Fraser knew what was going on, Fraser would know
what to do. 

 Something was messed up in my head. I trusted Fraser to fix me. 

  

 "Fraser!" The door was unlocked again. I didn't like that. 

 Fraser stepped out into the main hall and I met him halfway, grabbing his
shoulders and shaking him. "That dog, that stupid dog, it followed me all
fucking day and then it turned into a guy, and I think--I think--" The
shape of the man outside my apartment building, that ugly blond guy, that
was the same shape of the guy in the alley. "I've seen him before! Fraser!
Tell me what's going on so I can kick him in the head!" 

 Fraser grabbed me right back, just hanging onto my elbows and looking at
me with a weird sad look. 

 "When you were ten years old, you were abducted by aliens. Your body was
altered to make you more receptive to the control of the master aliens, to
carry the black oil without harm. When you were sleepwalking through those
two days, you were under their control. A test drive, if you will." 

 Pause. I think the earth stopped spinning right then. I know I stopped
spinning. "Test drive." 

 He was still hanging onto my elbows. "Yes, Ray." 

 I'm a vehicle. Grand theft Ray. Is there a little steering wheel in my
head? "How do you know all this stuff?" 

 "I'm one of them." His eyes were huge and sad. I wanted to pinch myself
again. "We took the real Benton Fraser a year and a half ago. I assumed
his form and took his place. It was--an act of sedition, and I'm afraid
it's catching up with me. I am endeavoring to ensure that you are not hurt
as well." 

 "One of them?" 

 "Yes, Ray." 

 "Real Fraser?" 

 "He is in orbit, some 35,786 kilometers overhead." 

 "What's that in real measurement?" 

 "19,323 nautical miles or 22,241 statute miles." 

 "Great. I'm glad that you know that." 

 Dief came up and put his nose in my hand. "It'll be all right, Ray," he
said. "He's not exactly the same Fraser but he's a pretty good Fraser.
He's lots of fun like Fraser." 

 Well, Dief liked him.... I took a sudden deep breath. "I gotta get out of
here." 

 He let me go, stepped back, let me back away. Dief stood by him looking
sad. I turned away. 

 "Ray! Don't be alone tonight. You might not yet be safe." 

 I waved my hands at him and made a run for it. 

  

 I ended up at the Vecchio house. Frannie answered the door. "Ray? It's
late." She frowned. "You look terrible." 

 God it was good to hear her voice. She was totally normal, totally
Frannie, like a frigging rock. Like the Rock of Ages in the print over my
grandmother's piano. I could hang onto her with both arms. 

 "They're smoking out bugs at my place, can I crash here?" Lame. I know.
She knew too, but she didn't ask. 

 "Sure. We still have your room ready." Right, the cover. Good old
Frannie. She knew how to keep it together. 

 Good thing one of us did. I was shaking. 

  

 That night I dreamed Fraser was talking to me. Sitting on the bed beside
me with his hat in his hands. 

 "I never meant to hurt anyone. It was an experiment in rebellion. I am
aged for our kind but still so young compared to you; we lead brief lives.
We emerge from the pool and return to the pool and hardly experience
anything except our duty. Those of my caste are workers and live only to
serve. We have some two thousand days of life and then we dissolve back
into the pool the bore us." 

 He looked at me and I knew it was a dream, a fucked up crazy dream,
because his eyes were big and all black like 8-balls turned sideways. Like
the evil little rat dog's eyes. 

 "I wanted more. We are all so envious of you. We have a race-memory
inborn that tells us we came from a planet of sunlight and oceans, but
none of us have ever seen it. We live and die on the ship over your world,
seeing it always but unable to touch. We watch you and you all have such
freedom." 

 Huge black eyes like the eyes in my dreams. It was true. It was something
like true. 

 "We took him to study him. We mapped out his mind. His memories were left
unguarded and I copied them and ran. I took his place on Earth, knowing
that we would keep him for some time." 

 His face was shifting. It was dark in the room, I couldn't tell what was
happening, but he looked kind of melty. 

 "You confused me, Ray. I saw one Ray in my borrowed memories and another
called my name. It never occurred to me that you were borrowing too." 

 He touched my face and I wanted to say something. Anything. My mouth was
stuck shut in sleep. 

 "I greatly value the time I have spent here, Ray. Thank you for being my
friend." 

 The dream faded and I fell into deeper sleep. 

 I woke up with the strong desire to talk to Fraser. He was my friend,
right? Being an alien from another planet is just a technicality. 

  

 "Vecchio!" Welsh beckoned me into his office. 

 "Welsh. You seen Fraser?" I didn't even take my gloves off, just leaned
on his desk. Fraser wasn't at the consulate, he wasn't here, he wasn't at
my place, he wasn't at the park. He was nowhere. 

 "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I came in and there's a
message on my voice mail. Listen to this." Welsh handed me the phone
receiver and punched in a number. 

 Fraser's voice: "This is Constable Fraser. Please tell Detective Vecchio
that I have gone to broker a deal; he knows with whom. I'll be back as
soon as I can. Please tell him that this was the only choice I could
make." 

 I put the phone down. "Shit." 

 "I take it you know what he means." 

 "Shit." I dropped my head into my hands. Fraser walked right back into
the lion's den. Alone. Without me. 

 "Do you know where to look for him?" 

 "No." Or actually, I knew to look up. And I didn't have a long enough
ladder to reach him. 

  

 Fraser was gone for six days. The force mobilized, we tore the city
apart, but he wasn't anywhere. I was driving home after another long day
when my phone rang. 

 "Vecchio." 

 "Ray." 

 I hit the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. "Fraser! Where
the hell have you been?" 

 "Away, Ray. I'm sorry. I had to make a deal." 

 "A deal, what kind of deal, Fraser, you're freaking me out. Where are
you?" 

 "I'm in orbit, Ray." 

 "Oh." Shit. "Oh." 

 "We're giving him back." 

 "Who?" 

 "Fraser." 

 "Oh." Shit. "Fraser, buddy..." My hands were shaking on the wheel. 

 "This was the best deal I could make, Ray. For my return to the fold, I
have guaranteed your safety and obtained the return of Benton Fraser.
He'll show up tonight. Soon." 

 "But what about you?" 

 "I don't know yet." 

 "But you're not coming back." 

 "No." 

 "Fraser--" 

 "I have to go. Godspeed, Ray." 

 "Fraser!" But the line was dead. 

 I thumped my head down on the wheel and sat there for I don't know how
long, trying to think of something I could do. But there wasn't anything.
Give me a tie fighter and a light saber and maybe I could rescue my friend
from the bad guys, huh? 

 My phone rang again and I grabbed it. "Vecchio." 

 It was Welsh on the other end. "Fraser just showed up at Mercy Hospital.
He's in the operating room right now. He's in bad shape but he'll be okay.
There's a lead I want you to follow up right now." 

 Hospital. Fraser. The real Fraser. "Yeah. Yeah. Great. What lead?" 

 "The car that dropped him off. No plates, black Lincoln. A
black-and-white is in pursuit on North Shore Drive. Get to it." 

 "I'm on it." I turned off the phone and put the car in gear. Maybe it was
hopeless--but the GTO was my tie fighter, right? Right. 

  

 The chase was a bust. The uniform lost the car before I even got on the
scene. I figure there's a good chance it flew away. 

 I went to see Fraser in the hospital. I figured--it wasn't the same guy I
had known, but it was still Fraser, right? I wanted to see how much they
had in common. 

 I flashed my badge and they let me back. There was a uniform in front of
his room since they were treating it like any other cop beat-down. I wish
I knew how to tell them we weren't going to find the guys who did it, that
they were hovering over our heads in flying space machines. Shit. 

 The room was dark. There was a guy in the corner. I pulled my gun. "Who's
there?" 

 "Me, Ray." 

 The voice wasn't one I recognized, but the guy stood up and I saw he was
wearing a Mountie hat. "Who's me?" 

 "I apologize." The outline moved, got bigger, and then it was Fraser
standing over Fraser in the bed. "I should have been more clear. He's used
to seeing his father, so I was wearing that shape. I thought I might try
to orient him if he awoke." 

 "Oh." I put my gun away--if Mr. Alien wanted to mess with me, he would
have a long time ago. "That's nice of you. The docs said he couldn't
remember anything when he came in, but he was kind of fading in and out." 

 "It'll be hard on him. He'll try to remember the events that people
assure him have happened, but the memories will never emerge." He looked
down at Fraser. "He'll have nightmares. I feel...selfish...not having
thought of this trade before, but then I'm not sure that I was valuable
enough before. We do value our captives in our own way--but they need my
memories and my essence now." 

 "How did you get away?" 

 "I didn't. They haven't picked me up yet. I'm being closely monitored and
will have to return shortly. You're not in danger from us, Ray, but you
mustn't talk about what you know; there are human agencies at work that
are very dangerous." As he talked his hand was sort of hovering over
Fraser, who was out cold. He finally settled his hand on Fraser's arm. 

 I got a little closer so I could see his face. He looked human, totally
human. When he looked up at me his eyes were wet. "What's going to happen
to you?" I asked. 

 He shook his head, looking me in the eye. "I don't know. I'm dying, so
there isn't much they can do to me." 

 "Dying?" 

 "Of old age. We live only two thousand days." He dropped his eyes and
rubbed his eyebrow. "So I suppose this day was inevitable." 

 I didn't know what to say so I just touched his shoulder, and he gave me
a little smile. He looked up. "I'm being summoned. I have to go." 

 "Shit." I hugged him then, hugged him tight. "You--be careful." 

 He hugged me back, sort of tentative. "I'm so terribly sorry, Ray." He
hugged me harder then, taking a breath like he was panicked. "There's so
much I want to say, and I don't have the words--I was so happy to be here
and to be your friend, Ray Kowalski--I wish that things were different, I
wish that--" He dropped his head down on my shoulder and breathed, and if
he were human I would swear that he were crying. 

 There was nothing I could say. I just hugged him until he pulled away. He
put his hat on my head then; his Stetson. "Don't turn around," he said,
and he stepped past me. 

 I didn't turn around. 

 The door opened and light fell across the foot of the bed. I don't know
what shape he wore when he left the room. I sat down in the chair by the
bed and looked at Fraser. 

 Same guy. His hair was buzzed close and he had funny marks on his arms
and chest, but his face looked just the same. 

 After a while I turned on the light and he stirred. 

 "Hi," I said when his eyes opened. 

 "Hello." He looked at me for a little while, obviously confused. "I'm
sorry, do I know you?" 

 And what could I say to that? 

 "I'm Ray," I said finally. "Ray Kowalski. Ray Vecchio is undercover and
I'm filling in for him. We've been working together for a year and a
half." It was the truth, right? Something like the truth. "The doc said
you couldn't remember?" 

 "No, not a thing." His eyes roamed over the room. "Well, I'm very glad to
meet you." He offered me his hand just like the other Fraser would have
done. 

 I took it. What else could I do? "Likewise, for the second time." It was
him, wasn't it? The other Fraser had been Fraser and this was Fraser too. 

 Fraser smiled at me. He had the same smile. 

  

 I tore the pizza box in half along the seam and set the top on the floor
with half the pizza. "I dunno what to think about this, Dief." 

 "Food first," Dief said, and started snarfing the pizza. 

 "I'm weirded out enough that talking to you seems totally normal. What is
up with that?" 

 Dief looked up. "You're hearing things differently. I didn't change." 

 "Right." My stomach hurt. 

 "I like the new sauce. It makes my nose tingle." 

 I rested my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands. "So what's the
meaning of life, Dief?" 

 "Food. Women. Pack." Dief licked his nose and ate more pizza. 

 "Damn. I want to be a dog." It sounded nice. Running around with no
clothes on, pissing on trees, telling women you like them by licking their
butts. Swiping food from wherever. Smelling really interesting things all
the time. "So what do we do about Fraser?" 

 "You're the alpha now. You think it out. I follow." Dief was looking at
me like I was an idiot. I guess to a wolf I sure was, not knowing my place
in the pack and all. 

 I ate my pizza and thought things over. 

  

 I went to see Fraser the next day. Welsh was there. He took one look at
me and took me back out in the hall. 

 He pushed me into the broom closet and planted his finger in my chest.
"What do you know that I don't know?" 

 "Huh?" 

 He gave me that don't-fuck-with-me boss man look. "What did Fraser's
message mean? And why aren't you looking for the guys that did that to
him? You went home last night, Vecchio, that's not like you." 

 I looked down. I couldn't look at him, because he was right. 

 I couldn't give him the truth. But you know, I've done a lot of
undercover, and lies come easy by now. "The guys trailing me," I said.
"Fraser knew them from way back, he'd been tracing them for years. He said
they slipped through his fingers like water. And--you know--if the Mountie
can't catch them, what chance do I have?" I shrugged. "I went home." 

 I could see him thinking that over. "Are you okay, Ray?" 

 "Not really." 

 He patted my shoulder. I felt like shit. 

  

 Naturally Fraser didn't remember. Anything. Ever. He had nightmares and
got skinny from all the trying-to-remember he was doing. I couldn't do
anything for him--we had no history together, I wasn't his buddy. I was
just the guy pretending to be his buddy. 

 We were watching curling at my place--shut up, I was being nice--when he
started trying to remember me. 

 "You're--divorced," he said, his eyes roaming from my ring finger to the
old pics of me and Stella to the bike hanging from the ceiling. "You're
interested in physical fitness." 

 "Yeah." Boxing counts. Kicking people in the head is aerobic. 

 "You've been a police officer since 1987." 

 I don't know how the hell he figured that one out. "Yeah." 

 "You drink a great deal of coffee and prefer pineapple on your pizza."
Fraser was sniffing the air. 

 "Yeah." 

 "You take your coffee--with milk," he guessed, frowning intensely. 

 I was tempted, tempted hard, to lie and make him feel better. "Black with
sugar," I muttered. His face fell and he sat back. 

 Dief licked my hand and didn't say anything. 

 After two months they gave Fraser a medical discharge with a pension and
plenty of honors that he didn't give a damn about, and he went back north
to rebuild his father's cabin. 

  

 You ever feel like you don't know who you are without some particular
person? Like maybe you're different somehow when they aren't around? 

 Actually it's more like--he made me better. He made me a better person,
and I didn't want to be the same old Ray I was before. So I tried to act
like Fraser was still around. It didn't always work, but it helped. 

 Take this one case. This asshole made a practice of swiping Social
Security checks from old people. I came in to interrogate the guy and he
knocked my coffee over into my lap first thing. 

 Before Fraser, I would have given in to my first impulse and pounded the
guy. Instead I played nice, played it cool, and he got cocky and the name
of his check-cashing agent slipped out. So I got two with one blow. Not
bad, eh? 

 I missed him. 

  

 I got a call from Welsh. Six in the morning, ouch. 

 "Good news, Detective. You're going on vacation." 

 "Vacation--" Vacation? That didn't make any sense until I figured out--
"Vecchio came back?" 

 "Ssh. He's in protective custody until after the trial. Meanwhile, for
your own protection, you're going on vacation. Figure out where you want
to go by the time you come in today, okay?" 

 "Uh--how long are you talking about?" 

 "They think a month. Maybe a little longer, depending on how things go.
You know how the Feds are." 

 "Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Two hours?" 

 "You did a good job, Detective." He hung up. 

 I didn't know where the hell I wanted to go when I hopped in the shower.
By the time I got out, I had no doubt. 

 I'm going north. I'm going to the Northwest Territories. There's a guy up
there who needs to know some things. I have to tell him about this guy who
wasn't him, but who was kind of him, and who was a great guy that I was
glad to know. I have to tell him about this guy I fell in love with who
did this incredible, selfless deed for two schmucks who weren't even from
the same planet. 

 I have to see how much of Fraser was the alien and how much was the
human. 

 If nothing else I want to see Dief again, because he's a great guy even
if he is a dog. And if I get killed for telling then I get killed for
doing my duty, and that's the way I always wanted to go. 

 So I know what I'm doing now. I'm packing my bags and heading due north. 

 end. 

 "Im Dachstuhl sitzt ein alter Mann
 Auf dem Boden tote Engel verstreut
 (deren Gesichter sehen ihm aehnlich)"
 --Einsturzende Neubauten, "Haus der Luege"
 
 "In the rafters an old man sits
 Dead angels are strewn across the floor
 (their faces resemble his)"
 --Einsturzende Neubauten, "House of Lies" 

 bas@yosa.com
 www.ravenswing.com/bas/slash/	   
 return to the archive.