Fox7-Part One

Date: Thu, 6 Aug 1998

Author: The Alchemist

Title: Fox7-Part One

Rating: R for violence/implied sexual situations

Classification: CR-MSR

Key Words: Logan's Run/XF Crossover.

Spoilers: None

Summary: For those of you who've seen the movie/read the
book, Mulder and Scully fill the shoes of Logan6 and
Jessica3. This fanfic was inspired by William F Nolan's
"Logan's Run Trilogy,"

Archiving: Go right ahead. Just let me know, so I can
see my name in code.

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not mine. God only
knows what I would do if they were. The universe
represented here is the brain child of Nolan. No
copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes at the close of this installment.
--------------------------------------------------------
"Fox7"

The Alchemist

"Yeah, I hate it too,"
"The Reddies run everything!"
Fox7 shook his head as he passed a group of Blue pre-
adolescents. Echoes of an older age forgotten. He
glanced at his left palm out of habit, and saw the
twinkling red gem imbedded in the skin. An old man he
was. A Reddie. At just over twenty year of age, Fox7
was considered a senior citizen of his culture.
Now, as he looked out over the vast dome city, Fox7
wondered which of happy people were on LastDay, wondered
who would run. If only he knew, it would make his job,
as well as the other Sandmen's much easier.
Fox7 picked up other fragments of conversation, but
paid little attention to them. His mind was wandering,
and he chided himself for letting it happen again.
"C'mon. Just keep focused," he murmured. "One more
day, and you're off for vacation," The casual observer
would have said he desperately needed to rest. Large
circles had formed under his eyes, and his skin had
turned a pale ivory. Fox7 hadn't slept for days.
As of late, his nights had been haunted by a misty
dream. Colors would swirl around him in a psychedelic
parade, until they formed a small grove filled with
weeping willows and Spanish moss. A tiny stream sliced
through the landscape, and amidst this unknown paradise,
a beautiful woman would appear. He could remember
little about her, only that she wore a flowing
gown, unlike anything he'd ever seen. It fell to her
ankles, and was a pure white, almost like quarts crystal.
And hair. Fiery red strands laced with liquid gold. Try
as he might, Fox7 could never see her face. She would
only repeat the same words:
"Run, Fox, run. Run, run, run away..."
The woman's voice was low and musical, reminiscent of
another, buried deep in his subconscious.
He snapped out of his daydream as he became aware of
his surroundings. The Sandman Headquarters was one of
the largest buildings under the dome. A large,
shockingly ugly monstrosity it was, painted gray to
match his uniform. Though Fox7 was in casual dress,
anyone could point him out. Sandmen were known to carry
themselves with an almost humbled air of authority.
Their presence created an air of mystery and awe. The
sole caretakers of Sleep, Sandmen were revered with
apprehension and a kind of uncertainty. Certainly
unspoken "privileges" came with Sandman status. Fox7
smiled briefly, almost reluctantly remembering his last
visit to the Northern Glasshouse. The girls had swarmed
around him as soon as the smoky gray suit was visible.
Fox7 stepped inside the Headquarters, and was
assaulted by chaos. He stared blankly at the consoles,
their neon lights already inducing a headache behind
his eyes.
"Fox!" a man's voice shouted, panic making the owner
forget the numerical ID "Fox, we need you in the
hyper-tunnels to Los Angeles. There's a group of runners
headed for the Dakotas."
Fox7 glanced at the man, Darian4 who ran the main
tracking device. When a palm-crystal turned black, it
showed up on his screen. Fox7 could see the small
markers speeding toward the main hyper-doc, with no
Sleep Shops in the vicinity.
"Your gun is ready. You must leave now!"
Fox7 ignored his harsh tone, and ran into a side room
to change. It had a sterile, inhuman feeling, just like
the rest of the structure. His uniform included a pair
of black boots, and a long black cloak that fell just
past his knees. He picked up his gun, checked it for
ammunition, and headed for the Sandman's hyper-doc.
The doc itself was bustling with activity. Gray and
black robed men were everywhere, suffocating him. From
his vantage point, they seemed very much like a colony
of frantic, yet icily organized bees.
"There's no color in my life," he said, thinking
aloud.
Again his thoughts were disrupted, this time by a
superior, William9. First in command, he had the
highest kill ratio out of all the Sandman. Fox7 was
currently second in line with almost eighty captures,
but it didn't matter to this man. He shook Fox7 roughly.
"What the hell do you think this is, a Dream Room,
you melancholy bastard?! Your wasting time!" William9
shoved Fox7's gun into his abdomen, making him double
over slightly. "I sincerely hope you haven't forgotten
how to use this. Why don't you use a Homer on yourself?
That'll put some *color* back in your lousy life." He
walked away finally, as Fox7 watched his ego fill the
tunnels.
Fox7 sat down in one of the hyper-spheres. A
computer automated voice came through the speakers as
the hatch shut.
"Welcome, Fox7. What is your destination?" A
navigational panel appeared on-screen. The monitor was
heat sensitive, and he touched the area over LA
"Thank you, Fox7." The artificial voice had been
programmed with a kind of seductive nuance, but was lost
on him. It made him sick.
Restraining devices snapped into place, and the
hyper-sphere entered a main tunnel.
--------------------------------------------------------
"Fox7-Part 2"

See above for standard disclaimer, contact information,
etc....

The car was shaped like an egg. No doubt a *very*
durable egg as it was guided into the labyrinth of
tunnels. Fox7 was surrounded by a vacuum, with the
temperature outside the hyper-car dropping to absolute
zero. It would take him maybe ten minutes to travel from
the Boston dome city to L.A.'s. Yet another modern feat,
his mind thought numbingly.
He could see the lights inside the tunnel pulsing
like a heart beat. It gradually slowed as he neared Los
Angeles.
Fox7 stepped out of the car as the hatch opened, just
in time to see a group of four black crystalloid palms
rush by.
"Ohmygod, it's a Sandman!" one shouted.
Shots were fired as other Sandmen emerged from the
hyper-cars. No Homers yet, but Fox7 knew there would be,
once the group separated.
William9 appeared at his side, barking orders.
"Fox7!" Seething anger marked his name. "You take the
girl, I'll go after the two men."
Fox7 obeyed, not wishing another confrontation,
and scanned the area for the runner. He could see her,
about thirty yards ahead of him, tearing through the
Plaza, knocking people over in her wake.
He finally switched into Sandman mode, and began to
track her. She was extraordinarily fast, but he'd been
trained well. Bystanders watched with a sort of macabre
fascination. There was another who did not accept Sleep.
She was clever, doubling back and staying in crowded
areas, but fear had caused her to falter now, as she
saw Fox7 and ran into a blocked corridor. She turned
to him, covered with beads of perspiration.
"I'll give you a final chance at dignity. I will
escort you to a Sleep Shop,"
"No! Never! Sleep is death." She brushed a strand of
blond hair from her eyes.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, trying to
calm her down. "Sleep is peace," now a quote from a very
famous Sleep sermon.
"No it isn't!" the runner said, clawing at the metal
walls of the corridor. He looked her over, and noticed
she was wearing a small gold chain with an Ahnk
symbol attached. He filed it away in his memory as he
removed his gun from it's holster. He set it on Homer,
a type of heat seeking bullet. The runner saw this, and
screamed.
"Pity," thought Fox7. "She was beautiful, too." The
Homer left the barrel and buried itself in the bottom
of her spinal cord, sending blue fire into her nervous
system. It burned the body from the inside out.
"What a horrible way to die," he thought, leaving the
alley. He was shocked at himself. Almost eighty runners
killed, and he'd never reacted this way before. He
waited, collected himself, and walked toward the hyper-
tunnels, silent tears streaming down his face.
--------------------------------------------------------

Author's Notes: I'm sorry I have to characterise
Mulder in such a violent way, but I have to stay true
to the universe he's in and his occupation.
A note about the palm crystals: the gem is placed
in the left palm at birth, and it is colored yellow from
birth to age seven. One a child turns seven, the color
is blue, and after age fourteen the color is red. On
a person's 21st birthday, the crystal begins to blink.
This time period lasting only 24 hours is called
LastDay. When the crystal turns totally black, you have
two options- go to a Sleep Shop, or run.

Thanks for reading! Should I continue? Any suggestions?
Send feedback to: OnyxCat@yahoo.com
Please be nice, this is my very first fanfic.