FINDING THE FUTURE
By: Traveler
Rating: PG-13 for a few nasty words and a little MT.
Classification: X-File
Summary: The question of mankind’s fate is explored
when Mulder finds himself looking through a window to
the future.
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully and the other characters
are property of FOX and 1013. I borrowed them Chris,
you haven’t been doing anything with them lately so I
hope you won’t mind.
Archive: Exclusive to VS12 for two weeks, please write
if you’d like to archive this elsewhere.
Feedback: iluvxf@hotmail.com
ANCIENT DIG SIGHT, WEST AFRICA
A commotion of voices brought her awake. Diggers
working in the ruins in the early morning light had
discovered something that had frightened them. She
heard one voice among them ask to see her,
demanding that she see what had them all so upset.
Gathering up some clothes she dressed quickly,
emerging from the tent to find a familiar face connected
to the voice. She recognized the man. He’d worked
with her several years ago on the coast during one of
the most frightening experiences of her life.
“Professor Ngebe,” he said, coming forward now, his
hands extended towards her, asking her to take the
object from him. She accepted it, looking down at it in
recognition. It was a tile, a flat irregular shaped tablet of
some sort of stone material filled with glyphs. Glyphs
she recognized all too well, glyphs she knew were not
meant for her.
X-FILES OFFICE 9:13 A.M.
Scully was surprised to find the office door partially
open as she came down the darkened hallway juggling
her briefcase, a bakery bag and a tray carrying two
large coffees. Kicking the door open farther with her
foot she was twice as surprised to find Mulder seated at
his desk engrossed in something he was viewing on the
computer monitor. The noise startled him but he got up
quickly to grab the tray from her hands.
“Thanks,” she said as he took the tray and set it on the
corner of the desk. “I didn’t expect to find you here. I
thought you had a meeting with Skinner this morning?”
“Well I’m here and I did and which one of these is that
low-fat latte crap you like to drink?”
She turned at the sound of aggravation in his voice and
took in his already haggard appearance; tie askew, his
shirtsleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. Peeling out
of her coat she walked over to where he was perched
on the edge of the desk and grabbed her drink, curling
her chilled fingers around the hot cup.
“Mulder, you left the house at 6:30 in a fairly good mood,
it must have been a hell of a meeting.”
He picked up the other cup, inhaling the nutty hazelnut
aroma as he popped off the lid and then got to his feet,
wandering over to the row of files cabinets and leaning
against one as he sipped the drink. “Wait until you hear
this. He wanted my opinion about adding some agents
to the department. Do you believe that? How long
have we been fighting to keep the X-Files open and
now they want to add more agents to the department?”
Scully’s eyed him as she blew on her drink. “What did
you say?”
“Among other things, I told him electronic bugs were
bad enough, we didn’t need live ones crawling around
down here.”
She rolled her eyes, “And?”
“And then he got frustrated because he said he was just
trying to help us out. Made some crack about my age
and still being out in the field; that my time was too
valuable to be spent running across the country. Then
he suggested that maybe if we had a couple pair of
agents down here it would give us more time–more
FREE time we could spend on research. And then he
ragged on me about our reports being late, that we
could use some clerical help. To that I basically told
him we’ve worked together for 10 plus years without any
help and we didn’t need any now. And then he said he
wanted to talk to you.”
“Now?”
“As soon as you got in-but first,” he set the cup down
and took her by the arm to steer her around the desk. “I
want you to open this package from Africa with your
name on it,” he finished, motioning with his head toward
the chair in front of the desk, the one on which she had
dropped her coat.
Following his gaze she noticed the brown box hidden
beneath her coat. She set her cup down while Mulder
cleared a spot on the desk so she could set the box
down on it. It was addressed to her, care of the Federal
Bureau of Investigation with a return address from West
Africa. She looked at him, puzzled; he caught her eye
and reached over the desk to extract a box cutter from
the top drawer. “Mulder” it came out apprehensively. “I
haven’t had any contact from anyone over there in
years. Who would be sending me something?”
“Maybe you should open it and find out,” he said as he
handed her the cutter.
The box wasn’t that large or heavy and when she got
the flaps open it was stuffed with straw type packing
material; an envelope with her name on it was lying on
top. She took the envelope and slid the note from it not
noticing that Mulder had moved the box from in front of
her and was digging through the packaging.
DR. SCULLY,
IT SEEMS OUR PAST HAS ONCE AGAIN COME
BACK TO HAUNT US
AND WE FIND OURSELVES QUESTIONING THE
ORIGIN OF OUR
EXISTENCE. THIS I FEEL IS MEANT FOR YOU TO
EXPLORE
NOT I. I HOPE THIS WILL HELP YOU FIND THE
ANSWER.
A.N.
“A. N.? Mulder, I think this is from professor Ngebe, the
woman….”
Mulder was standing next to her. In his hands was a
large piece of tile filled with inscriptions like the ones
she had seen on the craft in Africa, like what had been
on the copy of the rubbing Skinner had given him, the
one that several years ago had almost driven him
insane. She watched as he gently caressed the script,
his fingertips running across it almost reverently, his lips
whispering something she could not hear. He looked
up at her with a look of understanding and amazement
but said nothing. As realization hit her she went to grab
it from him but it suddenly fell from his hands, his entire
body contorting from the spasm that wracked it. He
stood frozen in the moment and then another spasm
racked his body and he dropped so fast Scully had little
time to react, his head meeting the edge of the desk on
his way to the floor.
Scully followed him down; the head wound already
bleeding when he hit the floor. She rolled him onto his
back. “Mulder? Dammit, Mulder!” He was
unresponsive, his eyes glazed. Unable to palpate a
radial pulse and feeling no respirations she bolted for
the phone to dial 911.
“This is Agent Dana Scully with the F.B.I. I have an
agent down! Forty-three year old male in cardiac and
respiratory arrest, I am a doctor, I will start CPR,
basement offices, tell them to come in through the
garage!”
She dropped the phone on the desk, returning to the
floor with Mulder. Tilting his head back and opening his
mouth she blew a deep breath into his lungs and then
clutched her hands together and started CPR.
“1..2..3..4..5…”
NORTHEAST GEORGETOWN MEDICAL CENTER
Scully had resuscitated him in the office before the
paramedics had arrived. His heart rate had been
thready, erratic and on advice from the hospital the use
of a defibulator had stabilized him. By the time they had
reached the hospital his vitals were almost normal but
he had remained catatonic on the way in.
The results of an EKG showed that his heart had been
subjected to some sort of electrical trauma. “You’re
certain that he hadn’t touched anything, that he didn’t
receive any sort of electrical shock?” The young ER
doctor asked her.
Nothing earthly Scully thought to herself. “No, I was
standing right next to him. He had some sort of seizure
and then just dropped to the floor in arrest.”
She caressed Mulder’s arm, watching his face for some
response as the doctor continued to study the test
results, his glazed eyes staring back at her but seeing
nothing. “There’s nothing in the tests we’ve run that
indicates any type of cardiopulmonary cause here. I
think maybe we need to do a CAT scan and an MRI.
His BP is good or I would suspect an aneurysm but
there are also other possibilities in the form of a stroke
or some sort of neurological disorder. I could
recommend a neurologist.”
From somewhere, the mention of a neurologist hit home.
Something she had read recently about a friend from
med school who had been named the head of the
Neurology Department here. “Um, yes, I understand Dr.
Jason Leonard is head of the department now, I went to
med school with him, if you could let him know I’d like
him to take a look at my partner…”
“Yes, certainly. You’re a doctor?” the young doctor
asked somewhat surprised. “I’m sure you’re aware then,
there is a very real possibility of brain damage due to
oxygen deprivation. You have medical power of
attorney?”
Scully looked up from her study of Mulder’s frozen
features. She had only half listened to what the doctor
had been telling her. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re not his wife but I see you listed on his chart as
the emergency contact.”
Scully tried to make it sound matter-of-fact, “Yes-we
work for the F.B.I. We’ve been partners a very long time.
It’s easier that way.” It was more than obvious to the
doctor as he watched Scully thread her fingers through
Mulder’s unresponsive ones, that these two were much
more than partners. She turned to look at him then,
meeting his eyes, “He wasn’t out long enough; I refuse
to believe this is caused by brain damage.”
Somehow this all felt like deja vu only this time she was
present to see the effects. This time however, Mulder
was not raving about in a padded room. This time, his
mind was somehow frozen in that moment when he
touched the artifact back in the office and she was at a
loss at how to bring him back. Still wearing her coat,
she pulled it more tightly around her, her hand sliding
into the big pocket to worry the surface of that very
same artifact in some hope she would find an answer
there.
Within a half hour, they had stitched up Mulder’s head
wound and had him on an IV drip. The heart monitor
showed a steady reassuring 74 beats per minute. As
they were preparing to take him down for tests a nurse
came in to inform her that there was a Walter Skinner in
the ER waiting room and that he wished to speak with
her. She leaned over the gurney, caressing Mulder’s
cheek, his eyes still lifelessly gazing up at her. Placing
a gentle kiss on his forehead she nodded to the orderly.
She found Skinner in the waiting room as the nurse had
said. At the moment he was standing at the window,
his back to her with his hands on his hips, his dark
trench coat giving him a menacing look from behind.
Seeing her reflection in the glass he turned as she
approached his eyes catching the worry lines that were
as much in evidence on her face as he knew they were
on his own.
“I got word that Mulder was rushed in here in cardiac
arrest. What happened?”
Scully met his eyes; he could see the resignation in
them. The oversized coat she still wore made her look
so much less than her usual self. “I don’t know” she
almost whispered. “They don’t think it was a heart
attack. He just literally dropped dead right there in front
of me.” He watched as her eyes welled with tears, the
shock now wearing off to become grief.
Skinner reached out to touch her shoulder in an act of
reassurance. “The nurse said his vitals were normal
now, how’s he doing?”
She looked away, brushing angrily at the tears that
threatened to spill from her eyes. Skinner was the last
person she wanted to see her like this. “He’s
unresponsive, catatonic, the ER doctor is afraid there
could be brain damage from the lack of oxygen to his
brain.”
“A stroke?”
She shook her head, choking back the sob that
threatened to burst from her. Skinner fought the urge to
wrap her in an embrace, not certain that she would
welcome it especially in this public place. He looked
around, almost suspiciously. “You know, this is the
hospital they brought him to before. Are you okay with
him being here?”
She nodded a small smile, realizing what he reference.
“They-they just took him for some tests. I have a friend
from med school, a neurologist who is on staff here now.
I’ve asked for him.”
Skinner shuffled his feet, looked down and slid his
hands into the pockets of his coat. “You know-we had
this conversation this morning…”
“I know, he told me. He said you wanted to see me
because you weren’t getting anywhere with him and you
won’t. He’d never be happy behind a desk sir; you
know that as well as I do.”
“Agent Scully?” They both turned at the sound of her
name, one of the ER nurses was approaching her with
a somewhat distressed look on her face. The nurse
pulled them aside so she could speak somewhat
privately. “They need your help down in imaging. Mr.
Mulder seems to have regained consciousness but he’s
being quite uncooperative.”
“Oh God,” Scully glanced quickly at Skinner and then
turned to follow the nurse. A few steps down the hall
she hesitated. “Sir?” She fumbled with her coat,
tugging on something she had stuffed into one of the
large pockets. Pulling out an object wrapped in a
leather covering she handed it to Skinner. “Could you
see that the Gunmen get this?”
He took the object from her with a puzzled look.
“I think that is the cause of Mulder’s illness.”
**
Standing on a high point of land, the city stretched out
below him. Built by their own hands, it was an
incredibly intricate labyrinth of buildings and temples.
The houses were arranged in long terraces and simply
built. The temples, on the other hand, were elaborate
masses of monolithic block faultlessly cut with razor
sharp edges that integrated completely into each other.
Intricate carvings decorated the exterior of many of the
temples. The whole city had been neatly terraced and
carved into the mountainside.
Lush greenery surrounded the city on all sides, hiding it
from all but the sky above. The combination of stone,
foliage and water made it a work of natural sculpture, a
place where man and the earth lived in harmony, a
heart-achingly beautiful place.
But now it had become a city in turmoil and fear. Failed
crops and hunger gripped the people and the demand
for sacrifice grew. The gods were angry the priest had
told them and the king had ordered that blood needed
to be spilled to appease them. Warriors had raided the
outlying villages, dragging off those chosen for sacrifice.
He’d come here to hide and to watch as below him the
blood of many of his fellow villagers spilled down the
steps of the temple, their screams echoing off the faces
of the other buildings and up into the heavens above
him.
Fear griped him, making it hard to breathe, how could
this carnage make the gods happy? His friends were
being taken from their homes and slaughtered, many of
them attempting to flee into the jungle only to be
brought back by the king’s warriors. He was one of
them, his flight instinct urging him to run but he found
for the moment he could not take his eyes from the
scene below him.
Behind him he heard the rustling of foliage. He froze,
knowing for certain that when he turned around death
would be staring him in the face. More thrashing filled
the jungle behind him and when he did turn he found
himself face to face with two of the king’s warriors. He
bolted, dashing off into the jungle, knowing that if he
were caught his heart would be added to those already
piled on the sacrificial alter below. He ran, down the
hillside, brushing aside vines and stumbling over
exposed roots, his heart pounding in his throat with the
sound of the men behind him. Crashing on through the
dense foliage, branches cutting at his hands and face,
he thought for a time he would elude his captors. But
then he fell, coming down hard, his arms out in front of
him in some feeble attempt to prevent himself from
being injured. He was going to die, what did it matter?
Strong arms grabbed his upper arms pulling him almost
to his feet. He struggled, trying desperately to shake
the men off but he was no match for their strength and
soon found himself being dragged back through the
jungle, across the courtyard and up the many steps to
the altar. His eyes scanned the people below
desperately searching for one, the woman he loved,
screaming her name as they pinned him to the alter.
The village priest began to chant, standing above him
holding the sacrificial dagger. Pain lanced through his
body as the sheath cut through his chest and he
remembered nothing else.
**
“What’s going on?” Scully hurried after the nurse who
now stood before the elevator angrily punching the
DOWN button as if it would encourage the elevator to
arrive more quickly.
“I don’t know. I picked up the call from imaging. There
was a lot of yelling in the background, they just said to
get you down there STAT — come on, come on!” She
continued to smack the elevator button.
When the elevator doors opened on the diagnostic level
another nurse was nervously pacing the hallway. “Are
you Dana Scully?”
“Yes, where is he?” Before the nurse could answer
they both heard him screaming; the nurse bolting for the
exam room with Scully right on her heels.
Stepping into the technician’s office Scully could see
through the glass window to the exam room. Three
orderlies had Mulder pinned to the wall. His face was
beet red as he tried to fight the men that held him. He
continued to scream, terrified of the restraint, his voice
growing hoarse. It sounded like he was saying “Asordo”,
over and over but she had no idea what the word meant
or why he was screaming it.
Someone came through the door behind her, a doctor,
pushing past her as she entered the exam room. She
saw the needle in his hand and knew immediately that
they were about to sedate Mulder.
“No, wait! What are you giving him?” The needle went
into Mulder’s hip before she could get the doctor’s
attention. “Dammit it, what did you give him?”
“Five milligrams Haloperidol, he almost killed the
technician,” the doctor answered angrily motioning to
the young woman who was being attended to on the
opposite side of the room. Scully turned back to Mulder,
the fear draining from his face as the drug took over.
He slid to the floor with the aid of two orderlies. “Oh,
Mulder,” she stooped to touch him but he shied away
from her.
“Ego indeo asordo…” he all but whispered as his eyes
drifted shut.
“I want him in the psych ward, five point restraints!”
Scully stood and turned to the doctor who was barking
orders. “Who the hell are you?”
As Scully squared off with the offending doctor the
orderlies had strapped Mulder onto a gurney and were
in the process of wheeling him out of the room. She
turned around again, “Just stop right there!”
“I might ask you the same thing. Who gave you the
authority to just come barging in here?” The doctor was
a big man, brusque, probably mid 50’s.
“He’s my-I have legal medical power of attorney over
this patient, I’m his personal physician.”
“And you have the authority to practice in this hospital?”
“No…”
“Then they’ll take him where I tell them to take him. Fifth
floor, restraints!”
Scully knew how Mulder hated restraints, she didn’t
want him waking up in them, not again. “He’s not
violent, that’s totally unnecessary.”
“Yeah, well tell that to Ms. Ellis…” The doctor stormed
out of the door after Mulder’s gurney.
Scully looked around at the shambles of the exam room.
A young nurse was being attended to by another
physician. She made her way across the room and
squatted down next to the young woman. She noted
her name tag, KATIE ELLIS. “Katie, I’m so sorry, are
you alright?”
The doctor looked up from his ministrations for a
moment, “Looks like she might have suffered a minor
concussion, I’m going to have her admitted overnight.”
Scully turned back to Katie, “Can you tell me what
happened?”
“He came too during the scan, I think he was just
frightened, but I’ve never seen anyone that frightened.
He was terrified. We shut it down, tried
to talk him down, get him out but I guess he just didn’t
understand. Doesn’t he speak English?” Katie asked.
Scully looked back at her confused, “What do you
mean?”
“He was chanting or something, I couldn’t understand
him. It was like he didn’t know who I was or what I was
telling him. Then he just grabbed me and pushed me
back against the wall, then the guys came in, he yelled
your name a couple times, you’re Dana right? And then
he started yelling something like ‘asordo’ and you know
the rest. I’m sorry it got so out of control but I didn’t
know how to calm him down.”
“It’s not your fault Katie,” Scully stood and helped the
doctor get Katie into a wheelchair before leaving the
room in search of Mulder.
GEORGETOWN PSYCHIATRIC WING
It wasn’t hard to find the psych ward on the east wing of
the fifth floor, she’d been there before. When she
stopped at the desk to ask for Mulder’s room number
the nurse asked her to have a seat in the small waiting
room across the hall, explaining that Dr. Leonard was
on his way in and wanted to talk with her immediately.
The room was small, about the size of an average
hospital room. It was carpeted with two nicely
upholstered sofas, a lounger and a small kitchenette
with coffee. She poured herself a cup and sat down
hard on the end of one of the sofas. Cradling the cup in
her hand she took a sip, tilting her head back to inhale
the pungent aroma. It was the first chance she’d had to
relax since she’d gotten out of bed that morning.
She continued to sip her coffee lazily, thinking hard over
the events of the day. What had brought this all on?
Was Mulder’s condition truly a reaction to the artifact?
She’d denied it all the first time around, running off in
search of answers and leaving him behind to be
drugged into a stupor; she would not be fool enough to
do it again. She needed to get a hold of Amina Ngebe.
Find out if it was really her that had sent her this artifact.
If so, she needed to know how Amina had come to be in
possession of it and if the ship had reappeared. But first,
she needed to get Mulder some help; she would not let
him go through that hell again.
Someone cleared their throat on the other side of the
room. The sound startled her from her thoughts. She
looked over in the direction from which it had come.
Jason Leonard, Dr. Leonard now stood in the doorway,
he smiled tentatively at her, “I didn’t mean to startle you
Dana.” She started to get up but he waved her off,
coming over to sit on the opposite end of the sofa. “I
have to say, I’m surprised to see you here — in another
role, that is. How are you?”
Jason Leonard had been a classmate in med school.
He was probably Mulder’s height with a slightly heavier
build, short cropped curly hair and dark eyes that were
now hidden behind wire rim glasses. He’d been a
member of the little clique she’d hung in with until they
all branched off into different fields.
“I’m not the one you need to be asking that question.”
“So I understand. Dr. Kelley filled me in on what
happened down in Imaging.”
“Is that who that idiot was? I want the restraints off,
Jason.”
“Dana,” he reached over to touch her hand. “I think we
should leave them on, at least until he’s lucid. Until we
run some neurological tests, we don’t know what we’re
dealing with. He has a history of violent behavior from
what I’m reading here about the last episode.” He
flipped casually though a thick file she knew instinctively
was Mulder’s.
She set her coffee cup down with a shaky hand. “He
was frightened Jason, he didn’t understand what was
happening to him. There was no need to drug him like
that, if they just would have let me talk to him. He won’t
hurt anybody. I know he won’t hurt me. Please Jason,”
why was she begging? She could just go in there and
take them off herself. “I’ll sit with him until he wakes up.
I don’t know how to explain it; I won’t have him wake up
restrained Jason, not again.”
Jason took in her haggard appearance. According to
the file, she was his F.B.I. partner and legal power of
attorney but it was painfully obvious they were much
more to each other. She was just as strong willed now
as he had remembered her and he wasn’t about to butt
heads with her. It had never worked before. He’d wait
it out. Let the guy wake up and take it from there.
7:22 A.M.
She awoke to someone stroking her arm. She raised
her head from the edge of the bed and looked into
some slightly groggy hazel eyes, a gentle smile curving
his dry lips. Taking his hand, she brought it up to place
a soft kiss on the back of it. “Good morning, sleepy.”
Pulling his hand away he stroked her hair, pushing it
away from where it had stuck to the side of her face in
sleep. “Who’s the sleepy one?” He’d drifted in and out
all day yesterday but this was the first time he’d been
lucid enough to speak to her.
She sat up and looked at him, really looked at him. He
was pale, the dark circles under his eyes giving him a
hallow look. He looked confused and a little
apprehensive. “Do you know where you are?” As he
glanced about the room, she noticed him fiddling with
something on the other side of the bed, the restraint
strap she realized. Then he turned to her, “It looks
alarmingly familiar. I’m in the nut ward again,” he
sighed. “Do they just automatically send me here now
when I’m admitted?” There was resignation and a little
disgust in is scratchy voice.
“I’m sorry Mulder, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Why am I here?”
“You don’t remember?”
She watched him think for a minute, a moment of fear
passed across his face, he touched his chest, “I only
remember — we were in the office, you had opened that
package from Africa-I remember…”
“What?”
He hesitated, the memory of his dream coming back.
He felt a little unsure of what to admit and what was
best to keep to himself. This was nothing like he’d
experienced in ’99 or recently in North Dakota for that
matter; the details of which he hadn’t shared with his
partner. “Nothing-just weird dreams I think,” was all he
would admit. He reached for the water pitcher but his
movements were still sluggish. Scully had seen
something pass across his face, worry or fear, she
wasn’t sure but got up to pour him a glass of water,
which he took from her with a shaky hand. She knew
he was keeping something from her.
He sipped the water, holding it with both hands to
steady the glass. He felt loopy; shit what had they
given him? “What was in the box?”
She sighed, giving him that “What are you not telling
me?” look. She knew he got it loud and clear but
answered his question anyway. “That was the day
before yesterday Mulder, it’s Sunday. There was
another artifact in the box, Professor Ngebe sent it,
similar to the one the rubbing was produced from, the
markings were the same, I recognized them.”
His face lit up immediately, she could almost see the
cloud lifting from his brain. “From the ship? The ship
you told me about in Africa? Do you suppose it’s
reappeared on the beach?” He was already fumbling
with the covers, sitting up in an attempt to get out of bed.
She jumped back as he swung his long legs over the
side but stopped immediately when a wave of nausea
swept over him. She watched as his face went white
and grabbed him to hold him steady.
“Dammit, Mulder, you’re not going anywhere! Not until
we find out what’s going on. Put your head down.”
He pushed her back gently when the dizziness had
subsided then raised his head slowly to meet her eyes.
“What is going on?”
All the fight went out of her when she saw the worry
reflected back in his. She raised the head of the bed
and helped him settle back into it, sitting down next to
him. “You collapsed in the office yesterday, cardiac
arrest,” she said as his eyes grew alarmed. “You were
holding the artifact when it happened.” When he
attempted to say something she shushed him with a
finger to his lips. “You were catatonic and unresponsive
by the time we got you here. Your heart is fine, no sign
of any cardiopulmonary disease or damage. They took
you down last night for a CT scan and MRI; you came
to during the MRI and attacked the technician, that’s
how you ended up here.” He searched her face with
that same
“What are you not telling me?” look. She sighed,
“Mulder, what does ‘asordo’ mean?”
He shook his head ever so slightly; she could imagine
the thoughts running though his mind. His eyes closed
and tilted his head back against the pillows. Was it
happening all over again? He knew that’s what she was
afraid of. “There’s no oral dissonance, no voices Scully,
I feel fine.” She ignored him.
“You were shouting it, they hit you with some
Haloperidol, you looked at me and said ‘ego indeo
asordo’.”
“I need help.”
10:13A.M.
A light rap on the door startled her. She had spent the
last hour gazing at her sleeping partner. He’d fallen
back to sleep, still fighting the effects of the Haloperidol.
She’d gotten him to tell her a little of the dream he’d had.
Though it was frightening in its intensity what scared her
more was the way his actions had paralleled it. Right
down to screaming the name of the woman he loved.
She looked up to find Jason standing in the doorway.
“How’s your patient?”
Scully pushed herself up from the uncomfortable chair,
patting Mulder’s arm reassuringly, “Still snoozing off the
dope.”
Stepping away from the bed she motioned to Jason and
they both stepped to the other side of the room. “You
look beat Dana, why don’t you go home for a while?”
“I can’t Jason; it’s a long story…”
“Yeah, I gather from the size of this file I’ve been
carrying around.” Jason hefted Mulder’s medical file
and then flipped it open. “The good news is his CT
scan and MRI are clean but there are some anomalies
on the EEG that concern me.”
“What type of anomalies?” Scully glanced at the bed
and then back to Jason.
“Unusual activity in areas we don’t normally see it.
From what I gather this is similar to what put him here
back in ’99. The guy ended up in a padded cell
Dana. If we can’t determine a physical cause for this
then I think you need to consider a psychological one.”
“What do you mean, from what you gather? Can’t you
compare the test results?”
“Yeah, I could, if I had them but they don’t seem to be
anywhere in this hospital.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “They’re gone?”
Jason didn’t either, “Dana — what’s going on here?
Who is this guy?”
“Yeah, Dana, who is this guy?”
They both froze as Mulder’s dry voice came from behind
them. Turning around they found him sitting up in bed.
He did not look happy. Scully touched Jason’s arm,
guiding him towards Mulder’s bedside. “Mulder, this is
Jason Leonard, he’s a Neurologist, we went to med
school together. Jason, this is Fox Mulder my — my
partner.”
Mulder gave her a look she couldn’t quite comprehend.
“You know Scully, one of these days you and I have to
sit down and determine just exactly what we are to each
other.”
Scully ignored the rub. This was no time to get into a
discussion of their relationship, especially not in front of
Jason. “We were just discussing the results of the
tests…”
“Like hell, what you were discussing was the fact that Dr.
Neurologist here thinks I’m delusional, that I belong
here.”
Mulder’s behavior was beginning to infuriate her; he
was acting like she’d gone behind his back to discuss
his medical care. For now she was going to ignore it.
“…we need to determine the cause of what happened to
you yesterday, Mulder.”
Mulder glared at her. “You know what caused it Scully;
the problem is none of your damn tests are going to
prove it for you so when can I get out of here?”
Jason cleared his throat. “Look, you two can get into
your own debate on your own time. I’d like to run some
neurological tests, and a PET scan Fox, if I don’t see
anything there that causes concern, I see no reason to
keep you. The cardiologist might want to send you
home with a 24 hour monitor though. Dana cares about
you, she and I just want to be sure what happened
yesterday doesn’t happen again. Agreed?”
“Fine.”
“I’ll go see what time I can get you scheduled.” With
that Jason ducked out of the room, pulling the door too
as he left.
When they were alone again, Scully moved closer to
the bed, crossing her arms in front of her she almost
hissed at him, “Dr. Neurologist? What the hell was that
all about?”
Mulder tilted his head back against the pillows, covering
his face with both hands; he let out an exasperated sigh.
“Look, I’m sorry, I was out of line.”
“Yes, you were. I’m sure Jason wonders why I’m
wasting my time with you at this point.”
“Jason, huh? Was he before or after Daniel?”
“What?” This confrontation was suddenly escalating
into something that would end up with one of them
being hurt. She had no idea what had brought on this
hostile attitude of his all of a sudden and she wondered,
for the first time if what Jason had said to her might be a
possibility. She didn’t answer him and when he realized
it was probably for the better he changed the subject.
“What happened to the artifact?”
She sat down, God, she was tired. “I gave it to Skinner
to take over to the Gunmen.”
He wasn’t angry at her, just at her attitude. She knew
damn well what he believed had happened to him
yesterday. What had influenced the dream or vision
he’d had? It was happening all over again only this time
something was different. He felt different. This time
there was no noise, no pain, no voices in his head, he
felt enlightened or-or illuminated with something
unknown. The urge to move on it was becoming
overwhelming and the longer they kept him here the
more frustrated he knew he would become. He needed
her help not her medical expertise. “We need that
artifact, Scully. That’s where you’re going to find your
answers. We need to find out where it was found, if
there are more pieces. You told me before you thought
it had led you to a key, the key to all the questions
we’ve been asking; a piece of a puzzle that was left for
us to put together. After what happened to me
yesterday, I think I know how to put those pieces
together.”
No, despite how angry it would make him, she was not
going to believe what he was suggesting. “Mulder, what
are you talking about? Please-don’t sugg…”
He reached for her, caressing the side of her cheek,
she was scared, scared for him. “I’m OK, I’m not crazy,”
he chuckled briefly. “Just trust me, Scully.”
GEOREGETOWN IMAGING DEPARTMENT 3:40 P.M.
They had come up and gotten him about an hour after
Jason had left the room. The PET scan would alert
them to any usual brain activity. The same test they
had run on Gibson. Leaving Mulder in Jason’s care she
made a quick trip home to change and bring Mulder
back some clothes. She knew the moment she stepped
into the exam area that things had not gone well. Jason
and two technicians hovered over a lighted screen
conferring over Mulder’s scans.
Mulder was nowhere in sight.
“Geez — will you look at this…” one of the technicians
tapped his co-worker on the arm. “You ever see
anything like this?”
“He must have been having a hell of a dream,” the other
tech commented as he used his finger to highlight the
areas he was referring to. “I’ve never seen activity in
these areas either.
Jason caught here eye, “Dana, come here, you need to
see this.”
The concern evident on his face, she moved to stand
next to him. What she saw on the screen brought back
memories immediately, of a twelve-year-old boy and his
incredible abilities. Her hand went to her mouth as a
small gasp escaped her. Mulder believed that Gibson’s
abilities were attributed to something akin to alien DNA;
something that despite her beliefs she had proved was
a part of every human being.
Jason caught her reaction. “What?”
“I’ve — we’ve, Mulder and I have seen this before. A
young boy we had contact with several years ago.”
“He had this same heightened activity in the temporal
lobe?”
“Yes, very similar.”
“How did you treat him? The human brain normally
functions at 5 to 10 percent of its capacity. What we’re
looking at here is at least 50 percent; I couldn’t even
begin to tell you how to slow this down.”
“We didn’t. He was just a normal kid-only…”
“Only what?”
She turned to look Jason right in the eye. “He was
clairvoyant, he could read minds Jason.”
“Dana, that’s not possible.” He touched her shoulder as
if asking her to get a grip on herself. “Those are just a
cheap parlor tricks. Look, I know Mulder is your friend
but you’re a doctor, you know what the human body is
capable of and what it’s not.”
“Jason, I’ve seen things that 15 years ago I wouldn’t
have believed either. You have no idea what the
human body is capable of.”
Jason smiled at her hesitantly. “OK, so what happened
to this kid?”
“We don’t know.” Mulder’s voice came from the
doorway. He walked over to stand next to Scully so he
could see what they were looking at. He leaned down
and in a soft voice meant only for her he whispered,
“What more proof do you need?”
At this point she didn’t know whether to be upset,
worried or scared to death. She had seen scans done
before on Mulder and they had never looked like this.
Jason was right, neither of them had any idea how to
treat this or even if it needed treating. Mulder actually
seemed fine now. “Mulder, I…”
Mulder stepped back a few steps, the irritation again
evident on his face. “Look, you two can stand here and
debate what you see for as long as you think it’s
necessary, I’m going upstairs and find my clothes.”
“Mulder — this could be dangerous, maybe you should
stay here until we know what to do about this,” Scully
pleaded with him.
“You’ve already decided you don’t know how to treat it
and there’s no way I’m going through that hell again.
You,” he pointed to Jason, “can find me some discharge
papers or I’m walking out of here AMA. And you,” he
pinned Scully with a warning look, “can take me home
or I’m calling a cab.” He then turned, making sure he
mooned them both as he left the room.
Scully turned back to Jason. “I’m sorry, he’s usually not
like that. Please, can you write up those papers?”
Jason signed heavily. “I don’t like this Dana. I know
you’re worried about him, that you want to do what’s
right, but I’m also worried for you. This behavior could
be a sign that we’re dealing with some mental disorder.
He could get violent.”
She looked down, her fingers nervously playing across
the screen in front of her and then looked back up to
Jason. “Truthfully, I’m more worried that it’s not some
mental disorder, at least that I know we could treat.”
GEORGETOWN PYSCHIATRIC WING
He’d pulled on the clothes that Scully had brought and
gone into the bathroom to throw some water on his face.
He leaned over the sink, letting the water run a few
minutes until it was at least lukewarm. He cupped his
hands under the stream and splashed the water on his
face several times. He then propped his hands on
either side of the sink, standing there to let the water
drip from his chin. God, what was going on? The vision
he’d had, it had been so real. He remembered the pain
lancing through his chest; his own life coming to an end.
Somehow it had felt so much larger than that, like it was
the death of thousands he’d experienced, not just his
own. He remembered holding the artifact in the office.
The characters suddenly conforming to reveal a
message that he couldn’t quite read at the time but
thought he understood. He needed to see it again. He
groped for a towel and raised his head to look in the
mirror. His movements freezing at what he saw
reflected there.
The image that stared back at him was not his own.
What he saw before him was the image of an older man
with a flowing white beard and hair, dressed in a white
cloak. He rubbed his eyes in frustration but the image
remained. A sudden chill wracked his body and he
reached out a shaking hand to touch the glass before
him. When his hand made contact with the mirror, the
image disappeared.
“Mulder?” Scully’s light wrapping on the door startled
him and he found he couldn’t make his voice utter an
acknowledgement. She pushed the door open gently to
find him leaning against the sink, white as a sheet. A
worried look immediately crossed her face, he looked
like he was about to pass out. “Are you ok?” she asked
with concern, moving into the room to take his arm.
He yanked it away from her, “Yeah,” he said as he
pushed past her and made his way unsteadily across
the room. She turned around and followed him.
“Mulder, I don’t like this.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed a
shoe, jamming his foot into it and tying it angrily. “I
know you don’t but I gotta get out of here Scully, or
I might really go nuts.”
MULDER’S TOWNHOUSE
There hadn’t been much conversation in the car on the
way home. She’d finally gotten him to tell her a little bit
about what had caused him to hare off during the tests.
When they got in, Mulder headed right for the study and
had been there ever since. He was working on the
computer; she could hear the keys even through the
drone of the basketball game he had put on to cover it
up. By 8:30 he still hadn’t made an appearance outside
the room. She had thrown together a small supper of
grilled chicken and pasta and headed up the stairs to try
and entice him into eating some of it. The television
was still on but the room seemed quite. Maybe he had
fallen asleep.
Pushing open the door she found the room empty.
Knowing he hadn’t left the house, she made her way
across the room to the desk, curious as to what he’d
been so engrossed in all afternoon. On the monitor was
a web site detailing Mayan culture, there were also
several other windows opened to Egyptian mythology,
star charts and human evolution. She glanced down at
the desk and began to thumb her way through the
papers that were strewn across its surface. He had
printed out pages and pages of reference material but
what fascinated her most were the pages of hand
written notes and incredibly detailed mathematical
calculations.
The sound of the water in the bathroom startled her,
she felt like she was eavesdropping on him and yet she
couldn’t pull herself away from what he’d been doing.
Moreover, she was in awe of the work he had done.
She’d never known Mulder to be a great mathematician;
he refused to balance the checkbook. But this was the
work of someone not only knowledgeable in
mathematical calculations but also astrological
projections. Her little calculator was still in the drawer,
he’d done this all this in his head.
“See, I was right all along, you were sent to spy on me.”
His voice behind her made her jump. But when he
came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and
pulling her back against his chest she relaxed and
leaned back into him. “I was just wondering what
you’ve been doing up here all evening?” She continued
to page through the papers he’d been working on.
“What are you trying to work out?”
He nuzzled her neck, something she found incredibly
distracting. “What do you mean?” He’d asked the
question like he didn’t know what she was referring to
and continued his ministrations. She had the distinct
impression he was either trying to change the subject or
he really had no idea what she was talking about. As
good as his lips felt, she really needed to know.
“Mulder, stop that!” she pulled herself out of his arms
and turned to face him. “What are all these calculations,
this date, 2,012; look, you keep coming up with it over
and over?”
He actually looked totally confused and leaned over the
desk to page his way through all the papers there. “I —
was just looking for some information on what I might
have seen in that vision. I think it had something to do
with Aztec or Mayan sacrifice. Here,” he grabbed up a
few pages on Mayan culture. “This mentions how they
felt the need to sacrifice not only animals but humans
as well to appease their gods.” He looked at her at last.
“I think that’s what I was experiencing…” He could tell
she didn’t buy his weak attempt to cover his confusion
when she slammed the papers she held down on the
desk in front of him. He stood up and stared at the
sheets covered in his own scratchy penmanship.
“You have no idea what you were working on, do you?
I know you’re not a math wiz, Mulder. This is calculus —
I don’t know what else. You did it in your head.” The
wind went out of her sails when she realized from his
panic face, he really didn’t know either. “How?”
His eyes came down to meet hers, she watched him as
he wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his arms
briskly as if he was suddenly cold. Truth was he
couldn’t really remember much of this afternoon from
the point where he’d sat down to do just what he told
her, looking for some information on the Maya. That
was three hours ago. “I don’t know Scully, I honestly
don’t remember…”
Her heart ached for him and as she stepped towards
him, opening her arms to him, he came willingly,
stepping into them and pulling her tight relishing in her
warmth. “I made us some dinner,” she mumbled into
his shoulder. “Please come down and eat with me.”
7:05 A.M.
She awoke the next morning alone in bed with the
unmistakable aroma of coffee filling the house.
Downstairs she found Mulder seated at the table in his
work clothes, tie strung about his neck, buttering a
muffin he had just taken from the toaster.
“What are you doing? I hope you’re not planning on
going to work?”
He looked at her as if she had just asked the most
ridiculous question he’d ever heard. “It’s Monday, why
wouldn’t I be going to work?”
She shuffled across the floor and slid into the seat next
to him, placing her hand on his arm. “Mulder, a few
days ago they took you out of the office in what for all
intents and purposes was cardiac arrest, you were in
the hospital for two days, you’ve been having waking
dreams, hallucinations, lapses in memory. I don’t think
it’s a good idea, not until we know what’s causing this.”
“You were planning on going in weren’t you?” he asked
around the bite of muffin he’d popped into his mouth.
She didn’t really acknowledge him but she didn’t need to,
he knew she was. He got up from the table then, went
over to the coffee maker and poured another cup
adding the condiments the way she liked it. Ambling
back across the floor in his socks he handed her the
cup. “Well, then if I come too you can keep an eye on
me there.”
Her shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh. There
was no use fighting him when he was right.
FBI HEADQUARTERS
Scully made her way down the hallway with a tray from
the cafeteria; a sub for Mulder and a salad for herself,
and two bottles of water. She had almost made it to the
elevator when a familiar voice stopped her. “Agent
Scully?” Skinner’s deep voice resonated behind her
and she turned to find him approaching her. He gave a
quick glance in several directions as if looking to see if
the coast was clear then he grabbed her arm gently and
steered her into an adjacent empty hallway.
“I understand Mulder came in with you this morning.
What the hell is he doing here?”
Scully sighed in resignation. “As he put it, Sir, the
doctors didn’t exactly say he couldn’t come in to work
and since I was planning on coming in anyway, I could
keep a better eye on him here.”
“Is that your opinion also?” She could hear the concern
in his question, see it in his face.
“I don’t know what to tell you. They released him from
the hospital because basically they couldn’t find
anything wrong with him and yet we both know there is.”
“What to do you mean?”
“He’s having visions, waking dreams; Dr. Leonard
prefers to call them delusions and thinks he should be
treated for schizophrenia. Mulder, on the other hand, is
certain that what he is experiencing is directly related to
his exposure to that artifact I gave you to take to the
Gunmen. He says it has his name on it.”
Skinner frowned, remembering the sight of Mulder in a
padded room, his inability to help him when he asked
for it. “Is this the same thing that happened to him
before?”
Scully sighed, “No, I don’t think so, the effects are very
different. The scans show activity in the brain similar to
back in ’99, much like what we saw in
Gibson, a capacity beyond what we normally see in the
human brain. He insists he’s not in any pain; there’s no
dissonance, nothing like he experienced before, he just
zones out. Yesterday I found him in the study working
on some mathematical equations even I couldn’t figure
out and that he has no recollection of doing let alone
what he was trying to calculate with them. Byers just
came and picked them up to analyze them for me. I
think that’s what happened in the hospital…he was
mentally somewhere, someone else.”
Skinner glanced around again, smiled agreeably at a
couple of agents who passed by. “Scully, if you need
any help, if there’s anything I can do you know I’m
here.”
Scully gave him a hesitant smile. “I will, thank you,” she
said as she stepped away from him.
“Dana,” she turned at the use of her given name. “Just
be careful, I know it’s a whole different ballgame now.”
X-FILES OFFICE
She found a desk full of papers and an empty chair
when she entered the office. Setting the tray down she
briefly paged though the drawings and written text that
littered Mulder’s desk. What the hell was he working on
now? A noise from behind her made her turn around.
Mulder was standing in the back of the office, his arms
braced on the table his head bowed. “Mulder?” When
she got no response she approached him cautiously.
“What is it?”
He looked up suddenly, the anguish on his face making
her heart suddenly ache. He stood up and turned
towards her. “What the hell is that?” he demanded,
motioning to the papers she had been sifting though. “I
find myself working on this shit and I don’t even know
what it is or why I’m doing it.”
He walked passed her and stood with his hands on his
hips, a stance she recognized as very much his. His
hands came up and he buried his face in them. Scully
walked over to stand in front of him. “I think I should
take you home…”
His hands dropped immediately, “I don’t want to go
home!” he grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair
and attempted to pass by her but she snagged his arm
and held on tight despite his attempt to shake her off.
“Let go of me!”
“Where are you going?” Scully demanded.
“To see the Gunmen — the answers are in that artifact
Scully, I keep trying to tell you that!”
“I will not pick you up off the floor again, Mulder…”
He finally succeeded in yanking his arm from her grasp.
“It’s not going to happen again…”
“How can you know that?”
He rolled his eyes; a huge annoyed sigh escaped his
lips. “I just do. Just like I was calculating the
procession of equinoxes yesterday, the astronomical
variances of planets and constellations and their
alignments within a given century and comparing them
to ancient calendars and even though I don’t have a
clue as to why I was doing it I discovered that every
single one of them came up with the same date,
December of the year 2,012. The Mayan calendar, the
most accurate calendar in the world, one that has
existed for centuries ends in December of that year.
The Egyptians worked it out too. There’s got to be
some significance. And that, whatever I was working on
there,” he said pointing to the papers on the desk, “has
something to do with an energy source. Chemistry,
astrophysics, Scully, have you ever known me to know
anything about that? It’s like I suddenly have this
knowledge and its here in my fron for a reason and I’m
more certain than anything that the answer to why is
written on that artifact and I’ll know how to read it.”
She was certain he hadn’t taken a breath in that long
tirade and now he just stood there in front of her waiting
for some form of acknowledgement from her that she
understood what he was trying to tell her. She didn’t
know what to say to him. Somewhere in there he’d
dropped another word that didn’t make sense, fron?
What did that mean? In the context it was used she
had assumed he’d meant his head and yet that’s not at
all what he’d said. All she was certain of was that he’d
almost died three days ago and without any other
explanation somehow that artifact had contributed to his
collapse. She would not let him touch that thing again.
“Okay, look,” he said wiping his face in frustration.
“There have been a lot of recent discoveries in the fields
of archeology and geology that indicate that the many of
earth’s early civilizations were tied together somehow;
that they all came from a common ancestral past. The
names have been changed but their stories are all
pretty much the same. Written in these myths and
legends is the history of mankind on a global scale.
The ruins and artifacts that have been discovered are
full of clues to a past we’ve only just begun to
understand because the ability to understand them has
been lost to us. Somewhere in our past is the key to
our future. What if someone had a connection to that
past, could understand what was written?”
“And you think that it’s you?”
Mulder shrugged into his jacket. “Do you remember
what Chuck said about the characters on the rubbing?
What a Magic Square is-a way of trapping power to the
person whose name or numerical correlative exercises
the power written there?”
Scully closed her eyes and then opened them again to
find Mulder standing there still waiting from some
response from her. “Mulder, that rubbing was a fake.”
“You believe that?” He swung away from her and then
turned around, using his hands to animate his speech.
“Then why did it affect me the way it did? What about
what happened the other day? Or hell, why did you go
all the way to Africa for God’s sakes? You told me that
what you found there were not only religious texts but a
map of the human genome; a key to life itself. Maybe
that rubbing of that artifact wasn’t meant for me, on the
other hand, maybe this artifact is. Maybe it maps my
genome or somehow altered my genetic code. You
remember what we saw in Gibson.”
“So you’re telling me that you think this little piece of a
greater whole that Ngebe sent me — she sent it to ME,
Mulder, has somehow given YOU some super power
to connect to another civilization or whomever or
whatever created that artifact?”
Mulder shrugged, spread his hands in supplication.
“See, it’s like I told you years ago, we don’t need to
work on our communication skills, you understand me
perfectly.”
Scully crossed her arms across her chest, “That is
ridiculous, Mulder.”
“What? The part about you understanding me or me
being a super human?”
Scully turned away from him, dropping her arms down,
“Dammit, Mulder, you can’t just flip a switch and change
someone’s DNA, it doesn’t work that way. Many people
who have returned from a near death experience
believe they’ve acquired some sort of psychic ability…”
“NDE? Oh, that’s good Scully; let me get out my diary.”
“But, I think what you’re experiencing has to do with
what happened to you the other day, your body went
through a very traumatic event and you need rest. I
think these hallucinations of yours are more of a post
traumatic stress syndrome than anything else.”
He glared at her suddenly. “You know, I used to enjoy
this technique you have of always trying to rationalize
everything I say, but right now I think it’s a bunch of bull
crap.” He stalked back to the desk and picked up a file
and thrust it at her. “You remember this? Those are
the DNA results from the claw we found in Arizona.
DNA you told me matched the alien virus, the virus you
were exposed to. The same DNA you found in Gibson.
Junk DNA that is found in all of us, what you called a
genetic remnant that in Gibson was turned on. What if
that artifact turned something on in me?”
“Mulder…” She wasn’t sure whether he was just being
thickheaded or he really had gone over the edge. “First
of all,” she shook the file at him. “This only proves that
it’s a common trait in all of our DNA.”
“A common ancestral past.”
“It doesn’t prove you can turn it on and off. It’s not
possible.”
He grabbed the file from her and threw it back on the
desk. “You want proof, well then fine,” he grabbed her
hand and started to pull her towards the door but she
stood her ground.
“We are not going to see the Gunmen!”
“I know, we’re going up to the lab, I want you to run a
PCR.”
“Mulder…”
Not letting go of her hand he turned back, “I need your
help here Scully. I need you to help me prove the
impossible. Have a little faith.”
His last comment made her angry. “Don’t question my
faith, Mulder.”
He dropped her hand, his eyes met hers and a gentle
smile curved his lips. “Faith is believing in something
when common sense tells you not to.” He turned and
took a few steps towards the door, “You coming?”
She stood there watching his back disappear out the
door. “Isn’t that from MIRACLE ON 34th…?” Her
shoulders slumped again, damn him. She turned and
grabbed the papers from the desk.
F.B.I. LABS
She placed the last vile of blood in the container and
gently pulled the needle from his arm, placing a cotton
ball over the puncture wound. “Hold that for a few
minutes.” Mulder watched her label the vials in
preparation for the test. No one had questioned them
when they had entered the lab and even though they
were getting a few questionable looks from the other
technicians, most of them seemed to accept that this
was just another round of far out investigations from the
pair in the basement office. She turned around and
without saying a word angrily placed a Band-Aid over
the cotton. He started to roll his sleeve back down.
“How long will it take?”
“I’m going to call you a cab. I want you to go home like I
asked you to before.”
As she started to step away he quickly grabbed her,
sliding his hand down her arm making her turn back to
him. “I don’t want us to argue over this Scully. I know
you’re concerned. Jason thinks I need a shrink but as
far as I’m concerned you’re the only doctor that can help
me here. That’s all I’m asking.”
She finally looked at him. With her standing and him
still sitting on the table where she’d drawn his blood
they were eye to eye. What she finally saw in those
eyes shocked her. He was frightened, literally scared to
death and he knew she was the only person who could
understand that fear. With a quick glance around the
lab she placed her hands on either side of his tired face,
stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “We’ll get through
this Mulder, I promise you this.”
She watched him close his eyes, his dark lashes
coming to rest against his face. He turned his head a
little and as his lips came into contact with her right
hand, he gently kissed her palm. “I’m going to believe
that,” he whispered.
MULDER’ S TOWNHOUSE 8:10P.M.
**
The sun beat down overhead, a relentless heat that
never seemed to end. The work was laborious, cutting
the limestone to precise measurements required
intricate skill if it were to fit in its place on the pyramid.
The tools they used had been given to them by the
gods and possessed a magic he didn’t understand
anymore than he understood why they had all been
assembled to build this great monolith; a huge square
that, as it rose steadily from the sand, tapered into a
point aimed at the heavens.
Unlike other temples that were being built to
commemorate gods or pharaohs; this one was to be
different. Larger than anything else on the plateau, it
dwarfed the men who worked on it. Travelers from
other villages said it could be seen far off into the desert,
its golden tip like a beacon in the sun. Within its walls
chambers were being cut but their purpose was as yet
unclear. No pharaoh would make his trip to the next
world from this place. Its purpose remained a mystery.
He was hungry and thirsty now. The water bearers
didn’t come often enough in this heat and the sweat
dripped from his brow, his hands throbbing from broken
blisters. As he worked on the block near the edge of
the quarry his footing began to slip, the block tilting ever
so slightly in his direction. The huge block of limestone
could crush him in an instant if he were to become
trapped beneath it. He continued to work; shaping the
block into the precise measurements he’d been given.
More gravel slipped from beneath his feet and he
scrambled for better footing.
Fear griped him as he realized the more he scrambled
the more the gravel gave way cascading down into the
quarry below. The block leaned more precariously in
his direction and then suddenly let go. His arms came
up to brace against the block in a feeble attempt to stop
the monolith from crushing him. He screamed for help
but all his co-workers could do was watch as he and the
huge stone tumbled down into the quarry together.
**
Scully could hear the television as she opened the door.
It was dark in the room with the exception of the light
from the television, a couple of men droning on about
basketball on some sports talk show. She was about to
toss her keys onto the table when she noticed Mulder
sitting in the armchair, one leg on the ottoman, his head
thrown back, asleep. She set her things down on the
table and walked across the room. As she approached
him she could see his face was somewhat flushed,
sweat beaded his forehead. Sitting down on the
ottoman next to his leg she gently rubbed it to wake him.
She wasn’t sure who was more startled when he awoke
with a gasp and sat up abruptly, his eyes wide. She
dropped the envelope she had brought home with her,
placing her hands on his shoulders.
“Oh God, Mulder, I’m sorry,” touching him she could feel
him trembling under her hands.
Realization finally crossed his face and he dropped his
head, running a hand through his hair, “Shit.”
“You were having another dream, weren’t you?”
He sat back, “Yeah, you could say that.” She watched
him as he inspected his hands and then his head went
back against the back of the chair and he closed his
eyes again. “What did you find?” As she bent to
retrieve the envelope she realized that he had asked
almost as if he already knew the answer.
She slid the PCR results from the envelope, biting her
lip as she did so. What she now had in her lap was
something she had told him was impossible only hours
ago. He didn’t wait for her to say anything. Reaching
over; he slid them from her grip and held the first one up.
It was dated a few years ago though he couldn’t
remember the reason it had been done. When he
placed the current one on top of it and held them up
together the evidence of what he believed stared right
back at him. There were obvious anomalies in the
latest scan. “It’s just like Gibson, Mulder.” Her voice
was hesitant, barely above a whisper. “I don’t
understand it, but you were right. It’s as if somehow
inactive DNA has suddenly been turned on.”
“So I’m no longer a DNA match for myself huh?”
She smiled a little, “Something like that. Mulder
whatever is causing this; we have to find a way to treat
this, these delusions of yours. Look at you, you’re
exhausted.”
A sudden look of disgust crossed his face. “Pump me
full of Thorazine? I don’t think anything your doctor
friend has in his medicine chest will cure this.” He sat
up a little, looked down at the films he still held in his
hands. “I’m not delusional, Scully. It’s something else.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he said looking up to meet her eyes. “It’s
like I have this connection to something — something
ancient. I think these dreams are clues –clues to
answers you and I have been searching for all these
years. I just need you to bear with me a while, stop
being my doctor. I need you as a friend
Scully.”
As frightened as she knew he still was, as worried as
she was for him, she understood how he felt. “Mulder,”
she rubbed his leg that still extended across the
ottoman. “I have been and always shall be your friend.
What do you need me to do?”
Pulling his leg from beside her and placing both feet on
the floor in front of him, Scully watched as Mulder took
the envelope from her lap and without a word slid both
the films back into it. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Has anyone else seen these?”
“No one, I ran the test myself. I have the only results.
When I knew what I was looking at I destroyed the rest
of the blood samples.”
“Good because I don’t want to end up as a test subject
for anyone but you.”
5:14 A.M.
He came awake in a cold sweat. The dream from
earlier had come back with a vengeance only now he
was fairly certain of where he had been. Egypt, for
centuries it had been the Mecca of culture. Home to a
civilization as old as creation itself, the birthplace of a
library of wisdom and knowledge so complete it would
today awe any scientist. He’d stood in the great Library
of Alexandria, its halls filled with ancient scrolls and
texts said to have been the greatest collection of
scientific knowledge in the ancient world. Many today
wonder what science would be like had the contents of
this great library not been destroyed.
He had then found himself in a great labyrinth,
incredible underground chambers filled with
breathtakingly colorful paintings and connected by
intricate hallways filled with ancient Egyptian
hieroglyphs. His hands had scrolled down the text,
reading stories from civilizations older than the
Egyptians themselves. Stories of a people who came
from another land bringing with them their mathematical
and scientific knowledge, architectural knowledge, star
charts, maps and the formulae for sources of incredible
energy that made it possible to travel from one world to
the next.
Within these walls were written the history of the world,
not as he knew it but as it had actually happened,
secrets of a civilization that had flourished on a global
scale thousands of years ago, before recorded history
and that had vanished in the blink of an eye leaving little
evidence of its existence. What he knew without a doubt
was that this incredible place contained more
knowledge than his muddled human brain could ever
begin to assimilate. It made his head hurt and he sat up
quietly, putting his feet on the floor and resting his
throbbing head in his hands.
He’d been here before, he realized, on this bridge
between two worlds where he had to decide between
life and death. This however was not a choice between
life and death; it was a different bridge, one that in one
direction would lead him back to a time when the world
was a different place, one that even the history books
failed to mention. He could feel the pull like a magnet,
almost as if it were beckoning him to come back to a
place he’d been before, perhaps were we’d all been
before-on the brink of the future. Something pulled at
his memory, a date he’d seen calculated in the drawings
within the labyrinth, a date he’d calculated himself only
days ago, 2,012; the date the Maya believed signaled
the end of the present world. He closed his eyes in
resignation. He’d once told Scully that life wasn’t
governed by fate, that we had the free will to choose
and that it was those choices that ultimately determined
our fate. What would happen if he gave in to these
ancient memories? Would he lose himself or become
gifted with their knowledge? With every choice you
change your fate he’d told her. He realized he now had
a choice to make.
He pulled at the tee shirt that stuck to his chest; he
needed to get out of the room, to think out what he had
just experienced.
As he moved to get off the bed Scully’s hand came to
rest on his back, her sleepy voice questioning his
movements. “Mulder?”
He hadn’t realized he had awoken her and he turned
around to find her looking at him with concern. “Hey,
I’m sorry,” he brushed her shoulder and took her hand
in his. “I can’t’ sleep, I’m just going to go downstairs for
a while. Go back to sleep.” He leaned over, kissed her
softly and started to slide off the bed.
“You won’t tell me what’s troubling you, will you?”
Standing up he looked down at her. “I will, I promise
you, when I can figure it out for myself.”
She listened to him pad down the stairs, heard the
refrigerator door open and close, the television come
then muted? And finally, she heard the unmistakable
opening and closing of the front door.
GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY
Despite the chilly morning he’d already worked up a
sweat by the time he reached Georgetown’s athletic
field. Dawn was barely breaking the eastern horizon
and he found himself alone on the track. He made the
first few laps at his usual pace and then the scenery
around him began to change. He felt the earth shudder
beneath him and looked down to find the track’s surface
had changed to cobblestone. As he ran he realized he
was no longer running on Georgetown’s track but
darting through ancient village streets as structures
crumbled around him. The sounds became deafening,
a thunderous roar came from the earth and the people
that ran with him screamed. The ground continued to
tremble, huge fissures opened, ash fell like snow
coating him and sucking the air from his lungs. He ran
harder but there seemed to be no escape from the
terror as the world fell apart around him.
Hundreds of people filled the streets, running together;
many of them falling only to be crushed beneath the
feet of fellow villagers. He ran with them, a terrified mob
running down the hill to the harbor below. When they
reached the sea, people were scrambling to get into
anything that would float, while others just swam out
into the churning waters. Mulder could feel himself
being pushed along with them.
The ground shook again, pushing up and then dropping
from beneath him as he tried to outrun the surge of
people who were carrying him into the sea thrashing
and clawing at each other in fear. He found himself
being carried out with them away from the sinking land,
hundreds of people seeking some sort of safety in the
familiar waters. As they drifted out many of them clung
to boats and rafts as the water frothed and churned
around them. A hand reached out to grab him and he
took it. The arm pulled him tightly against the boat’s hull
and he clung to it desperately as the boat drifted away
from land. Other boats gathered with them, the
screaming had now stopped and silence fell over the
scene as they all watched their home sink beneath the
sea.
**
Scully hadn’t waited long before she dressed and
headed out the door after Mulder. She knew where
he’d go, one of the reasons he’d moved here,
Georgetown University’s athletic field. She spotted him
on the track, not running at that easy jog he was
comfortable with but running as if the hounds of hell
themselves were after him. The closer she got she
could see him glancing back, his face an image of terror
from the unseen force that she knew he imagined was
after him.
He was on the other side of the track and she yelled his
name but got no response. There was no point in
chasing after him; she’d never catch him until he fell in
exhaustion so she waited until he came around the
track.
His shirt was soaked with sweat; rivers of it ran down
his face, his hair plastered to his head. She waved at
him trying to gain his attention but he ignored her, she
could hear him panting as he approached her. At a loss
as to what else to do she made the only move she knew
would stop him, she tackled him bringing them both
down in a heap on the rough surface of the track. He
started to thrash about, gasping for air and kicking as if
he were trying to swim away from her.
“Mulder! Mulder!” She crawled on top of him, pawing at
him as she tried to pull his arms to his sides to calm this
irrational fear he was enveloped in but he continued to
fight her. “Mulder, stop! It’s me, Scully! You’re okay,
you’re safe! She grabbed his head with both hands and
forced him to look at her. “Stop it, relax, it’s over.” She
tried to be calm but the truth was her own heart was
pounding almost as fast as the one she felt pounding in
his chest.
She watched his face as he came back to her, his
breathing slowing a little. She was still sitting on top of
him. “Take it easy, just breathe Mulder.”
He took a huge gulp of air. “You know,” he gulped
again. “Any other time I’d — I’d find this position
incredibly erotic.”
She rolled her eyes and then closed them in submission
before gently climbing off of him and helping him into a
sitting position. “Just sit for a minute, I’ve got some
water.” Patting him on the shoulders she got up and
went to get the backpack she’d dropped.
He was trying to wipe the sweat from his eyes with his
soaked shirt when she got back, handing him the towel
she’d brought along. He looked up with a thankful
expression and took it. Neither of them said anything
for a while. Mulder drank the water she’d offered and
slung the towel over his shoulders, he was actually
starting to feel cold as the sweat began to dry. When
Scully saw him shiver she produced a sweatshirt from
her pack and offered it to him.
“You wouldn’t happen to have an ounce of sanity in that
pack would you?”
“I wish I did Mulder. Come on…”
He chugged the rest of the water before letting her help
him stand and pull the sweatshirt over his wet head.
“You need to get dry and warmed up and then we need
to get you some help.”
“I don’t need a doctor, Scully.”
She paused for a moment, reluctant to agree with him
but knowing now that it was the only way. She faced
him, took his hand, “I know, I’m taking you to see the
Gunmen.”
OFFICE OF THE LONE GUNMEN
It took Frohike several minutes to open the assortment
of locks that secured their door. He smiled when he
opened the door to find the two of them standing there.
“Mulder my man, you gotta stop scaring us like this,” he
quipped in reference to Mulder’s latest hospital stay as
the agents passed by him.
“Yeah, another trip back from the dead. We’re
beginning to wonder if you don’t have some biblical
power.” Byers said as he gave Mulder a friendly hug.
“Don’t encourage him boys, he’s doodling again,” Scully
did not sound amused as she handed Byers the latest
of Mulder’s writings.
He took the papers from her and leafed through them.
“You know, I think I can tell you what this is — or at least
the theory behind it.”
“You’re kidding right?” Mulder seemed somewhat
astonished that Byers was able to make anything out of
his drawings.
“No, not at all. I think what you have here is a power
source, one that has baffled scientist for centuries with
its simplicity. It was nicknamed
Brown’s Gas because a scientist in California, Yull
Brown actually built a generator using it.”
“What sort of a power source?” Byers’ comments had
gotten Scully’s attention.
“It’s a combination of hydrogen and oxygen that burns
at a low temperature and yet can burn holes through
bricks or weld different types of metals together.
Basically water, when decomposed into its primitive
elements by electricity, produces a clean, limitless,
pollution free energy source.” Langly piped in.
“So this is no scientific breakthrough then?”
“Actually Jules Verne alluded to it in THE
MYSTERIOUS ISLAND back in 1874. If you remember,
the characters in the story end up on a remote island
when their balloon crashes. At one point in the novel
they’re all sitting around the campfire discussing what
will happen when the world runs out of coal. Harding,
the book’s scientific genius exclaims, water! And then
goes on to explain how one day the engine rooms of
steamers and locomotives will be stocked with these
two condensed gases which will burn with immense
power…it will be the coal of the future.” Leave it to
Frohike to add a little color to the conversation.
“But seriously Mulder, the history dates back further
than that.” Byers continued. “It’s believed that the
Egyptians and Mayans used something similar to
electroplate gold. There have been many discoveries of
ancient batteries that would have supplied the electric
current. All I’m saying is that what you have here is
something using that theory but in a much more
powerful sense.”
“When you combine hydrogen and oxygen you get an
explosion, remember the Hindenburg?” Scully asked.
“That’s the thing; it took years for Brown to figure out
how to combine the gases to prevent that. What he
eventually discovered was that by combining them in
the exact same proportions as they are found in water
you get an implosion not an explosion. Add a little
flame to it and you get something similar to a welder’s
torch.”
Scully was intrigued. “So how does this produce an
energy source?”
“There’s the mystery, Agent Scully. Nobody knows for
certain. It has something to do with how the
combination reacts with the material it’s being used on.
The Chinese actually used a similar generator in their
submarines to dispose of nuclear waste because of the
gas’s ability to detoxify it. The possibilities would be
endless if we could understand the chemistry.”
“Do those diagrams help you understand the
chemistry?” Mulder asked.
Langly, who’d been sitting at one of the workstations
suddenly jumped away from it as movement caught his
eye. “Hey! Watch out!” Both Mulder and Scully turned
as Langly cried out. He’d been working on the artifact,
attempting to decode the writings on it when it had
suddenly begun to turn, rotate of its own accord, lifting
from the table and flying across the room in the
direction of his friends. Byers’ and Scully’s natural
reaction was to duck, it sailed right over Frohike and
they all watched as Mulder stabbed it like a line drive.
“Mulder!” Scully voice pierced the silence.
He looked up at the sound of her voice, caught her face
alarmed with fear, at the look of astonishment on the
faces of his three friends and then they all faded from
his vision. He now found himself in the midst of chaos.
Hundreds of people, but not human, running and
screaming as heat and smoke consumed them; a world,
much like our own, dying in an instant. And then he
was somewhere else, another world. Grays, as he’d
fondly always called them, their eyes even larger than
he thought possible, their long slender finger tips
pressed against a glass, gripping it in some attempt to
reach out to a world they would never see again.
More visions passed through his mind. Other worlds,
light years from here all being consumed by a force
their inhabitants could not fight; something greater than
them, something greater than he. It was he realized the
natural, universal force of the cosmos that had lasted
since creation and would continue for all time. A force
that made this fight he and Scully had been consumed
in feel suddenly silly and absurd.
Mulder’s heart pounded in his chest. Was this earth’s
future he was witnessing? What possible recourse
could any of them have? From somewhere he heard a
familiar voice, felt the touch of a warm hand on his
trying desperately to bring him back.
The visions continued. The earth, he recognized; as
seen from above. Flashes of stone temples, monolithic
statues, laid out in patterns across the landscapes;
artwork etched in the plains, reminders of a civilization
the world knew little about, left as a warning. Voices
now filled his head, ancient languages he didn’t
recognize but understood. Whispering to him of
voyages across the vastness of the universe, of finding
a new home on a small green planet, and using a highly
technical knowledge to influence the peoples they found
there. His head was filled with a consciousness of the
ages, voices of the past whispering to him a warning for
the future.
The images changed again, to driving rains, torrents
that swelled rivers and oceans consuming the entire
planet in an endless sea and washing away the
evidence of these mysterious visitors. He found himself
panting for breath, unable to suck enough air into his
lungs it made him dizzy. Then a voice came again, a
familiar one, warm and reassuring, “Mulder…”
“Do you want me to call 911?” Another voice, familiar to
his ears broke through the haze of visions. Frohike and
the others had watched while Scully tried to reach
Mulder. He’d stood there frozen in place, holding the
artifact. His eyes glazed over, pupils dilated and
unresponsive; his breathing erratic.
“Mulder, please, give it to me,” she pleaded with him,
her palm outstretched.”
She reached to take if from him but he waved her off;
turning it over in his hands, caressing the face with his
fingertips. He was back now, in the present. “I’m okay,”
he whispered softly to her; moving a few steps away in
order to read the script. “I WILL DESTROY MEN,
WHOM I HAVE CREATED, FROM THE FACE OF THE
EARTH, FROM MAN EVEN TO BEASTS, FROM THE
CREEPING THING EVEN TO THE FOWLS OF THE
AIR, FOR IT REPLENTETH ME THAT I HAVE MADE
THEM.”
No one said a word. Scully met Mulder’s eyes, “The
Bible, Mulder?”
“No, Scully,” Mulder said, shaking his head ever so
slightly. “It’s from them, a warning maybe,” he looked
up. “A story passed down through the ages.”
He finally handed her the tile. No, she did not believe
this. The genesis of the human race was not alien
despite what she knew Mulder believed. But what if
there had been alien intervention somewhere along the
way? This virus they’d chased across the world, could it
possibly be evidence of an ancient civilization…a far
more advance civilization that once flourished here?
Did that explain the sudden advancements in evolution
and technology that have yet to be explained by
science? More frightening yet was what if Mulder was
right, that this artifact was somehow linked to it and
somehow it did trigger something in his DNA, turned
something on in him like they’d seen in Gibson? It was
Byers who broke the silence.
“We — ah — haven’t been able to identify the material.
Jesus, Mulder, you can read that?”
“A passage from The Bible,” Frohike took the artifact
from Scully. “What would a verse from The Bible be
doing on-on something…?”
Mulder turned around, his eyes glistened. “Something
alien,” he nodded towards Scully, “She doesn’t believe it
and yet she found evidence of it in Africa.
Religious texts from The Bible, The Koran, human
genetic codes; the power of God himself inscribed on a
ship that washed ashore on the Ivory Coast. You’ve got
to get in touch with Ngebe, Scully, find out where she
got the piece she sent you. Maybe she knew how it
would affect me. The falatus came from that artifact; I’m
not cruvus about this.” He stood there while four pairs of
eyes looked at him like he’d grown another head.
“What?”
“What did you say?”
“I said the ability came from the artifact. I know I’m not
wrong about it.”
Scully shook her head wearily. “No, that’s not what you
said the first time. You said something like ‘the falatus
came from the artifact…’
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know, you said it!”
Frohike was hacking away at one of the computers, “It’s
similar to Medieval Latin. You take Latin in school
Mulder?”
“NO, I did not take Latin in school!” he swiped angrily at
his eyes, destroying the evidence of just how upset he
was becoming over this. “Look, are you guys gonna
help me here or not?”
“Hey,” Frohike approached his friend. “Just tell us
what’s going on, what you need, man.”
Mulder’s eyes flashed to Scully. “I’m not real sure I’m
Fox Mulder anymore.”
1:15 P.M.
Mulder had explained what he’d seen in his earlier
visions; in the hospital, at home, the terrifying escape
he’d experienced on the track. How he’d felt himself
become a part of them. How he was sure the first one
had something to do with the Mayans and that in the
second he had found himself in ancient Egypt. He had
no recollection of where he was in this last one but had
proceeded to draw a map of a landmass that Byers was
now studying along with all the other drawings and
calculations Mulder had been working on the past few
days.
Langly and Frohike had gone off to another workstation
to go over the PCR results and scans that Scully had
brought from the hospital. The four of them had been so
busy that none of them had noticed that Mulder had
plopped himself on the couch in exhaustion and
eventually drifted off to sleep.
**
Around him lay the ruins of a ravaged civilization he
recognized all too well. Monuments he’d passed
everyday, buildings whose purpose now seemed
incidental. Visions of the world he knew that suddenly
seemed to be no more. But it was not the desolate
wasteland he had assumed it would be. Instead it was
alive, green and filled with the voices of the future;
people, hundreds of them. Who had picked up the
pieces of a shattered lifestyle and rebuilt them into
something new and different and better than before. It
felt peaceful here, simpler; as if the earth had been
cleansed, the sky brighter, the water clearer, the air
fresher. A new world, risen from the old much like what
he now knew had happened before.
His eye caught a movement to his left, he turned. A
man was standing next to him, a man he also
recognized. The man whose image he’d seen in a
bathroom mirror a few days ago. They stood there
together watching a new life being recreated from death
of the old. It was that same universal force engaged in
it’s never ending cycle. The man said nothing to Mulder
but somehow an understanding grew in his mind; an
understanding that he’d just been given a sneak peak at
the future and a very real message of hope.
**
“This is a map of Antarctica,” Byers said turning to
Scully who had been sitting with him.
“How can that be?” She felt a sudden chill. “What
Mulder described sounded almost Mediterranean. Why
would he be drawing that? Antarctica is a frozen
wasteland.”
“That might not have always been the case. Do you
know what earth-crust displacement is?”
“The theory that the earth’s crust is in constant
movement?”
“It’s much more than a theory. Every time you have an
earthquake, it’s an example of displacement. There is
however, a theory that at one point in the earth’s history
Antarctica was much warmer that it is today. That at
one point parts of the continent were located some
2,000 or so miles further north, outside the Antarctic
Circle in a more temperate climatic zone. Ever hear of
the Piri Reis Map?”
“An ancient map of the globe?”
“An extremely accurate map, here look at this,” Byers
clicked into a website that brought up the map he had
been referring too. When he and Scully compared the
map to the one Mulder had drawn they found them
alarmingly similar. “Reis was a sixteenth century
Turkish sailor and the author of a sailing book filled with
comprehensive descriptions of land masses, ports and
harbors of the Mediterranean. His source maps were
probably housed in the Imperial Library at
Constantinople and may have originally come from the
Library at Alexandria.”
“How would such a library contain maps of Antarctica?”
“Better yet look at this,” Byers acknowledged. Clicking
into yet another website, he continued, “This is a current
geological survey map of the Antarctic continent under
the ice. When I transpose them all together…” Scully
watched as the three maps came together in an almost
identical fashion. “There were no geological surveys of
the planet in the sixteenth century Scully, as far as we
know the people of the Mediterranean didn’t even know
Antarctica existed, let alone how to map it. Only
someone with an aerial view of the planet would be able
to map this so accurately.”
“I don’t understand how this relates to the vision Mulder
had.”
“Maybe it’s where he was in the vision.”
“Hey, Agent Scully, you should take a look at this.”
Langly called from across the room. She and Byers
came over to look at the images displayed on the
screens in front of the two men. “These are the PCR
scans of Gibson you brought us a few years back,”
Langly pointed to the right screen. “And these are
Mulder’s,” Frohike said pointing to the other screen.
“You can see the similarities in the areas we highlighted.
We all know by looking at this older scan of Mulder’s
that these anomalies didn’t exist a few years ago. “You
said that Mulder had been exposed to a virus years ago.
Viruses are known to leave markers in DNA, you’ve
heard of gene therapy…” She looked at him in disbelief,
he sighed. “Well, then you explain it.”
“I can’t explain it! I was also exposed to a virus guys
and I’m not experiencing any of these visions.”
“You know we all assumed that Gibson had been born
with his abilities but this indicates that it’s possible to
literally turn genes on with the right stimulus. What we
see here are active genetic remnants, genes that
science will tell you there is no explanation for.”
“Maybe because we have no use for them anymore?”
Scully questioned her mind suddenly drifting back to
what Mulder had said in their office about us losing the
ability to understand the words of our ancestors.
“Sadly, you’re probably right. As we’ve advance
technologically, we find we no longer need our instincts
to guide us. Look at all those people who perished in
Asia and yet the animals had the good sense to run for
higher ground.” Langly was not amused. “Millions are
spent each year on warning systems set up to warn us
of danger because it seems we no longer have the
ability to sense it. We’ve lost touch with the earth
around us because we sit inside watching television
instead of watching the sunset.”
“You should talk.” Frohike quipped.
“Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t just as guilty as the next
person but it’s the truth. Mulder’s afraid he’s become
some sort of super human when maybe all he really is,
is more human than the rest of us.”
“But why me, what are these visions trying to tell me?”
They all turned at the sound of Mulder’s voice. He’d
been so quiet they’d almost forgotten he was there. He
didn’t move to get up from the couch; he just continued
to sit there slumped against the back cushion with his
legs spread, his mind still reeling from his latest dream.
“If we’re to assume that this artifact came from the same
ship as the rubbing and it’s some sort of key to
unlocking human potential then what is the likelihood
that Ngebe would find the piece that was meant for
me?”
“I’d have to say highly unlikely Mulder.”
“Have you been able to reach her?” Mulder asked,
getting up to get a closer look at what they’d all been
working on.
“I called the university, she no longer teaches there,”
Scully answered.
“So the answer to that question is, no.”
“No, I have not been able to reach her.” Scully’s reply
was curt.
“I think we might have an answer to your question
though Mulder,” Byers motioned for him to join him at
his computer.
“This man you saw in the mirror, the pale figure with the
white beard?” Byers questioned. “Legends of the
Andes people describe a similar figure. He has different
names in different places but he’s always recognized as
the same figure, a tall bearded pale skin man wrapped
in a cloak of secrecy. Viracocha, Foam of the Sea, a
master of science and magic who wielded terrible
weapons and who came in a time of chaos to set things
right with the world.”
Byers clicked a command into his computer and the
image Mulder had seen in the hospital appeared on the
screen. “As the legend goes he appeared when the
world had been inundated by a great flood and plunged
into darkness; society falling into ruin and disorder.
With his powers he created hills and valleys of lush
earth from the destruction and taught the people how to
live with love and harmony.”
“Similar legends exist in other cultures,” Frohike took up
the narrative. “Quetzalcoatl is the Mayan equivalent;
he’s credited with the invention of the advanced
mathematical and calendrical formula that the Maya
used to create their calendar of doom. Similar I might
add to what you used to calculate the very same date,
2,012. There’s Kon Tiki and Isis and Osiris; Native
Americans speak of the White Buffalo Woman, even
Christ can be seen as this figure.
A quick search or mythology from around the world
reveals other striking similarities. Legends from
different peoples all living in different corners of
the earth seem to tell the same essential story-that
somewhere in humanity’s past certain individuals with
godlike powers were responsible for shaping mankind
into a civilized state.”
“Wait a minute,” Mulder turned to Frohike in shock at
what he assumed his friend was referring to. “I don’t
have any godlike powers and I’m certainly not the
reincarnation of Jesus Christ!”
“Hey, easy man,” Langly patted his friend on the
shoulder and walked around to face him. “For a long
time these stories have been dismissed as myth but
with the advances in geology and archeology
researchers are starting to realize that there is a lot of
truths in the ancient myths. Evidence is coming to light
of the possible existence of a highly advance civilization
that once flourished here on earth. You know the story
of Atlantis, right, the mysterious continent whose
civilization was swallowed by the sea? There are a lot
of similarities in the Mayan and Egyptian cultures
leading to a very popular theory that these people are
the descendents of Atlanteans.”
“It’s a story, Langly, a myth.” Mulder said with disgust,
he stepped a few feet away and then turned around.
“There’s no evidence that Atlantis has ever existed. If,
as you’re suggesting, this highly advance civilization
lived on this mythical continent; how is it possible for
them to disappear so thoroughly that even with our
modern scientific knowledge we can’t say for certain
that they ever existed?”
“You’re not listening, Mulder.” Byers came over and
gently steered Mulder to a stool and made him sit on it.
“Maybe they just haven’t found it yet. The Bible is filled
with myth. Do you know that the story of Noah, the
great flood, exists in almost every culture on the globe?
It predates The Bible. Natives believe that the earth
has passed through different ‘worlds’ in its history. Hopi
myth tells us that the first world was destroyed as a
punishment for human misdemeanors by an all-
consuming fire. The second by ice and the third world
ended in a universal flood, that very same Noah story.
They believe the fate of the present world depends on
how the people behave in accordance to the Creator’s
wishes.
There is other evidence, a lot of it; written in the codes
of ancient civilizations all over the world, codes which
are only now slowly coming to light. Discoveries in
archeology have found that many sacred sites across
the globe like Stonehenge, the Great Pyramid and other
mystical structures scattered across the globe might
have been built to preserve and transmit the knowledge
of an advance civilization. Some have even suggested
these sites are a warning system left behind for future
reference if we could only figure out how to use them.”
“Listen to this.” Frohike added as he watched Mulder
roll his eyes. The guys were on a roll and all he and
Scully could do was listen as they continued to weave
their tale. “Egyptologists continue to insist the Great
Pyramid was built as a tomb but just about any
archeologist will tell you now that it is a lot older than
originally perceived and that no pharaoh was ever
buried in it. It’s an incredibly sophisticated design.
Each of its four sides aligns almost perfectly with points
on a compass. The height is proportional to the radius
of the earth and its perimeter to the circumference.
Measurements of its base halves yield the numbers
365.256 and 365.259, the number of days it takes for
the earth to orbit the sun. Back in 1957 satellite
technology was able to establish that the polar radius of
the earth was something like 150,265,030.4 inches.
One ten-millionth of this distance would be roughly
25,026 inches. This exact measurement is found at
least three times within the pyramid. The number
25,000 also happens to approximate the number of
years in the processional cycle, the time it takes for the
earth to pass through the twelve zodiacal constellations.
And here’s one more mystery for you. This 25,000-year
measurement is the most complex measurement we
know. It’s been shown that the shafts if the Great
Pyramid align perfectly with key stars of the Zodiac at
major changes in the houses of the Zodiac, like when
the earth passes from one sign to the next along the
line of procession. When you look at star charts from
the age of the last global catastrophe, they are
alarmingly similar to the charts you will see in the year
2,012. Mulder has them all printed out. Somehow, who
ever built the Great Pyramid was able to calculate this,
align these shafts so that they and the Zodiac would
come into alignment in much the same way once
again.”
“Procession of the Zodiac?” Scully asked. Mulder had
mentioned this in his own explanation of what he’d been
working on, she, needed some clarification.
“Here…” Frohike grabbed some of the papers from the
table Mulder was sitting at and handed them to Mulder.
“Mulder calculated it himself. Basically the
constellations of the Zodiac form a ring around the solar
system. Each year on the Spring Equinox the sun rises
within a particular constellation. Right now, it’s Pisces.
This goes on for around 2,000 or so years and then the
earth processes into the next constellation, this being
Aquarius. I know that sounds backwards, but trust me
on this. It’s called Procession, it takes about 25,000
years for the earth to pass though all twelve signs of the
zodiac and what’s remarkable is many of the ancient
civilizations were able to calculate it long before modern
day astronomers ever figured it out.”
“It’s a clock.” They all turned to Mulder who had been
studying the calculations.
“What’s a clock?” Langly asked.
“The Great Pyramid, a doomsday clock.”
“Ticking down to what?”
“You saw what happened in Asia, the terrible tsunami; it
was caused by a violent quake beneath the ocean,”
Frohike said. “Imagine if that happened on a global
scale. Geologists believe we’re on the verge of some
violent changes in the earth, a cataclysmic destruction
of the world as we know it. Numbers are a universal
language. If these calculations Mulder has worked out
are some kind of code, a way to determine the exact
date and moment of this catastrophe, think of the lives
that could be saved.”
“December, 2,012,” Mulder looked up at his audience,
“The beginning of a new age, the age of Aquarius.”
Three pairs of eyes seemed to believe him, the fourth,
those piercing blue ones, the only ones he had faith in,
did not.
“You all weave a clever story of gloom and doom here
but how does this all fit in with Mulder?”
“I think he already knows.” Frohike motioned with his
head towards Mulder who had stepped off the stool to
reach over and pick up the artifact again. “And I saw a
new heaven and a new earth. For the first heaven and
the first earth was gone, and the sea is now no more.
They’re right Scully. The earth is covered with clues to
our past, the answers to where we’ve been and where
we’re going aren’t going to be found in the science of
the future. You said it yourself, the answers are there,
you just have to know where to look.
I don’t know if we’ll ever know who our progenitors were
or what happened to them, but a whole legacy of their
knowledge has been left for you to find. You have the
key now,” Mulder hefted the artifact. “That’s why Ngebe
sent this to you, I’m your key.”
She stood there looking at him, the boyish enthusiasm
he’d always possessed clearly evident in his eyes. Was
this truly his destiny? To be some conduit to the past
that would guide them to the future? She walked slowly
over to where he stood, wrapping her hand around his
wrist to find the pulse point and the evidence of his
excitement that she found there. He knew exactly what
she was doing; she could see it on his face. “Mulder,
listen to yourself, even if this were true, how do we
possibly find this information, how do you prove that this
knowledge of yours actually allows you to understand
any of it if we did?”
He pulled his hand from her grasp and flashed the
artifact in her face. “You’ve got to believe it, Scully. Nou
ani anquietas. Ego indeo navo locas hic qua videum.
You just won’t give up on this proof thing of yours will
you? I’ve been fighting this battle with you since I’ve
known you. You can accept the idea that God exists
without question but suggest that maybe we weren’t first
on his list and you need a room full of evidence. We’ll
here’s your evidence
Scully, it’s staring you right in the face!” He put the
artifact in her hand and then turned and walked to the
door, letting himself out as they all stood silently and
watched.
She stood there for a few minutes looking at the piece
of tile. The truth was she did believe where it had come
from. It was believing in how it had affected him that
frightened her most.
“We are the ancients.” Byers had been typing as
Mulder spoke, “Looking for a new location for our
legacy.”
“Do you want us to go after him? Frohike asked.
“No,” she shook her head with a small smile at his
concern.
“For what it’s worth Dana,” Byers came over to stand
beside her. “There’s a lot of truth in what he’s related to
you. The things he’s seen, the theories. The world is
filled with mysteries Scully. Thousands of books have
been written on the subject. The research continues.
Through it we’ve come to realize that early man was a
lot more advance than we ever imagined he could have
been. Proof? Maybe you only need to prove something
if it’s first been disproved elsewhere.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you read, John.”
“No, but you should believe in him.”
“I do, I wish he understood that. I’m just afraid to
believe it could be true. I’m afraid of what this ability
could do to him.”
Langly came over and took the artifact from her. “He
seems okay now. It doesn’t seem to be affecting him
anymore.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s already worked its alien magic,”
Frohike made a vain attempt to lighten her mood.
“Mulder is NOT an alien, Melvin.”
“You know what one of the definitions of the word alien
is?” Byers asked. “Unlike one’s own, different. I think
that describes Mulder pretty well. I want to read you
something.” He leaned over and picked up some of
Mulder’s papers from the table, shuffling through them
until he found the one he was looking for. “I am the
Highest of All, the First, the Creator of Heaven and
Earth; I am the molder of the human bodies, and the
supplier of the Spiritual Parts. I have placed the sun
upon a new horizon as a sign of benevolence and proof
of the Alliance. In order to do so, the Commandments
of the Creator, verified by the
Highest of All, were, acting via the Souls of the
Ancestors, transmitted to the Youngest Ones.”
Frohike looked at Scully’s puzzled features. “It’s a
translation from the Egyptian BOOK OF THE DEAD; the
passage of knowledge from something far greater than
us. Ancient rites and wisdom coded in secrecy and
passed down through ancestral lines to a new place for
the legacy. History is filled with these inventive and
insightful individuals who are responsible for some of
the greatest leaps in our development. Mulder
understands this Scully though why he’s been selected
remains a mystery.
Why indeed. “Dammit Frohike, the Rosetta stone has
enabled the translation of hieroglyphs for years.” Scully
was not going to buy this sales pitch the guys had taken
up in Mulder’s cause.
“You’re right,” Byers acknowledged. “But most of the
time the translations are so filled with flagrant errors and
misinterpretations that nothing is left of the initial
meaning. To be able to understand their true meaning,
to interpret the messages that have been left for us as
Mulder believes he is able to do is a gift Scully; a gift
that maybe we should just accept without question.
“Oh God, John, if only it were that easy.”
“Well whatever has him reciting ancient scripture I don’t
think it’s something you want to broadcast to the world.
Somebody might lock him up and not because they
think he’s crazy.” Frohike walked back over to the table
he and Langly had been working at and picked up an
envelope which he proceeded to hand to Scully.
“You said someone took his old test records. You
better make damn sure they don’t get a hold of these.”
MULDER’S TOWNHOUSE
Scully finished putting away the dishes and turned the
lights off in the kitchen. Mulder had been sitting in the
car when she had left the Gunmen’s’ and they had
driven home in silence. They’d engaged in some off
topic conversation over dinner and then he’d
disappeared. She was still worried about him. How
would she convince him to seek medical help if these
dreams of his continued? Would he even tell her if they
did? Langly was right, he’d seemed fine when he left
their office. Could this nightmare finally be over? She
found Mulder stretched out on the couch in the living
room with a book of mythology propped on his lap. She
smiled and walked over to him. “Find any answers?”
Mulder put the book down, looked up to meet her eyes.
“You still think I’m nuts don’t you?”
“Actually I’d prefer that you were because it scares me
to death that you’re not.” She sat down next to him as
Mulder moved his legs over to make more room.
“All that gloom and doom stuff?”
“I believe in you Mulder, I always have. I want you to
know that even though I don’t know if I can believe what
you’ve been trying to tell me. Visions of the past,
ancient astronauts, the end of the world; two thousand,
twelve, Mulder, that’s only seven years away. It’s safer
not to believe any of it. Even if the answers are here
and by some miracle we could find them do you
honestly think that you and I can could convince a world
of non-believers in their authenticity?”
The truth was sometimes an ugly thing, especially when
you thought you knew what it was. “No, probably not;
they’d lock me up faster than your doctor friend was
threatening to do. But I think with the right information
your science could. It’s all about finding the future
Scully before the future finds us. Oo ya wolin wolin we
tayil” Mulder watched her freeze and then he smiled.
“That’s Mayan, says it right here, the enemy of my
enemy is my friend.” He closed the book and let it drop
to the floor beside them, reaching up to pull her close.
She settled in next to him and he wrapped his arms
around her. “Would it help if I told you that even though
the signs might point to the end of the world as we know
it, the next one will be a much better place?” She didn’t
look convinced. “Maybe we should have paid a little
more attention to all that harmonic philosophy your
sister used to try and pass off on us.”
Scully smiled into his shoulder, “She liked you Mulder.”
He hugged her closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her.
Now that I think about it, we had a lot in common.”
“Mulder?”
“Hmm?”
“Promise me I won’t lose you to these ancients?”
“You mean if I find myself reliving ancient history again
I’ll let you know?”
He felt her shiver in his embrace. She clutched at his
shirt. “I’m not kidding. That if you feel yourself slipping
away again you’ll let me help you hold on? If seven
years is all we have, if it’s all the time I have left to
spend with you I don’t want to think about living them
without you.”
He cuddled her closer and kissed her gently. “Then
don’t think about it, Scully. Carpe Diem”
“Seize the day?”
“Every minute of it.”
AUTHORS NOTES: This story is purely fiction. Not
being a scientist or anything remotely close, you’ll have
to accept my artistic license and conjecture.
There are a few facts thrown in for your enjoyment and
to get you thinking. I remember a television series that
was very good at that. If you’d like to explore some of
the ideas put forth here, take a trip down the New Age
aisle of your local bookstore; you’d be amazed what you
might find there. Reading about some of the earth’s
mysteries I’ve come to the conclusion that there truly
are more worlds than the one you can hold in your hand.
Special thanks to all my ebuddies out there, Chris for
her constant poking, Vickie for her help, encouragement
and some great ideas and to Chuck for his beta help;
couldn’t do this without you.
And yes, there is a quote from Star Trek in here
somewhere.
Virtual Season X 