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.




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.


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.”


“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.











“A. N.? Mulder, I think this is from professor Ngebe, the


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


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.



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


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


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


“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


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?”


“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


“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


“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.


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,


“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…”


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


“I need help.”


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


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


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


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


“Like hell, what you were discussing was the fact that Dr.

Neurologist here thinks I’m delusional, that I belong


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?”


“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


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.”


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


“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.”


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.”


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


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.


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


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


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.”


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


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


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



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.


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.



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


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


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.


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



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


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



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


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,






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 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


“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


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


“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


“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


“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


“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


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


“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


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


“Do you want us to go after him? Frohike asked.

“No,” she shook her head with a small smile at his


“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


“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.”


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.”



“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


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