FINDING THE FUTURE

By:  Traveler
Rating:  PG-13 for a few nasty words and a little MT.
Classification:  X-File
Summary:  The question of mankind's fate is explored 
when Mulder finds himself looking through a window to 
the future.
Disclaimer:  Mulder and Scully and the other characters 
are property of FOX and 1013.  I borrowed them Chris, 
you haven't been doing anything with them lately so I 
hope you won't mind.
Archive:  Exclusive to VS12 for two weeks, please write 
if you'd like to archive this elsewhere.
Feedback:  iluvxf@hotmail.com


ANCIENT DIG SIGHT, WEST AFRICA


A commotion of voices brought her awake.  Diggers 
working in the ruins in the early morning light had 
discovered something that had frightened them.  She 
heard one voice among them ask to see her, 
demanding that she see what had them all so upset.

Gathering up some clothes she dressed quickly, 
emerging from the tent to find a familiar face connected 
to the voice.  She recognized the man.  He'd worked 
with her several years ago on the coast during one of 
the most frightening experiences of her life. 


"Professor Ngebe," he said, coming forward now, his 
hands extended towards her, asking her to take the 
object from him.  She accepted it, looking down at it in 
recognition. It was a tile, a flat irregular shaped tablet of 
some sort of stone material filled with glyphs. Glyphs 
she recognized all too well, glyphs she knew were not 
meant for her.


X-FILES OFFICE 9:13 A.M.


Scully was surprised to find the office door partially 
open as she came down the darkened hallway juggling 
her briefcase, a bakery bag and a tray carrying two 
large coffees.  Kicking the door open farther with her 
foot she was twice as surprised to find Mulder seated at 
his desk engrossed in something he was viewing on the 
computer monitor.  The noise startled him but he got up 
quickly to grab the tray from her hands.

"Thanks," she said as he took the tray and set it on the 
corner of the desk.  "I didn't expect to find you here.  I 
thought you had a meeting with Skinner this morning?"

"Well I'm here and I did and which one of these is that 
low-fat latte crap you like to drink?"

She turned at the sound of aggravation in his voice and 
took in his already haggard appearance; tie askew, his 
shirtsleeves rolled up almost to his elbows.  Peeling out 
of her coat she walked over to where he was perched 
on the edge of the desk and grabbed her drink, curling 
her chilled fingers around the hot cup. 

"Mulder, you left the house at 6:30 in a fairly good mood, 
it must have been a hell of a meeting."

He picked up the other cup, inhaling the nutty hazelnut 
aroma as he popped off the lid and then got to his feet, 
wandering over to the row of files cabinets and leaning 
against one as he sipped the drink.  "Wait until you hear 
this. He wanted my opinion about adding some agents 
to the department.  Do you believe that?  How long 
have we been fighting to keep the X-Files open and 
now they want to add more agents to the department?"

Scully's eyed him as she blew on her drink.  "What did 
you say?"

"Among other things, I told him electronic bugs were 
bad enough, we didn't need live ones crawling around 
down here."

She rolled her eyes, "And?"

"And then he got frustrated because he said he was just 
trying to help us out.  Made some crack about my age 
and still being out in the field; that my time was too 
valuable to be spent running across the country.  Then 
he suggested that maybe if we had a couple pair of 
agents down here it would give us more time--more 
FREE time we could spend on research.  And then he 
ragged on me about our reports being late, that we 
could use some clerical help.  To that I basically told 
him we've worked together for 10 plus years without any 
help and we didn't need any now.   And then he said he 
wanted to talk to you."

"Now?"

"As soon as you got in-but first," he set the cup down 
and took her by the arm to steer her around the desk.  "I 
want you to open this package from Africa with your 
name on it," he finished, motioning with his head toward 
the chair in front of the desk, the one on which she had 
dropped her coat.

Following his gaze she noticed the brown box hidden 
beneath her coat.  She set her cup down while Mulder 
cleared a spot on the desk so she could set the box 
down on it.  It was addressed to her, care of the Federal 
Bureau of Investigation with a return address from West 
Africa.  She looked at him, puzzled; he caught her eye 
and reached over the desk to extract a box cutter from 
the top drawer.  "Mulder" it came out apprehensively.  "I 
haven't had any contact from anyone over there in 
years.  Who would be sending me something?"

"Maybe you should open it and find out," he said as he 
handed her the cutter.

The box wasn't that large or heavy and when she got 
the flaps open it was stuffed with straw type packing 
material; an envelope with her name on it was lying on 
top.  She took the envelope and slid the note from it not 
noticing that Mulder had moved the box from in front of 
her and was digging through the packaging.

DR. SCULLY,

IT SEEMS OUR PAST HAS ONCE AGAIN COME 
BACK TO HAUNT US
AND WE FIND OURSELVES QUESTIONING THE 
ORIGIN OF OUR
EXISTENCE.  THIS I FEEL IS MEANT FOR YOU TO 
EXPLORE
NOT I.  I HOPE THIS WILL HELP YOU FIND THE 
ANSWER.
A.N.

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

Mulder was standing next to her.  In his hands was a 
large piece of tile filled with inscriptions like the ones 
she had seen on the craft in Africa, like what had been 
on the copy of the rubbing Skinner had given him, the 
one that several years ago had almost driven him 
insane.  She watched as he gently caressed the script, 
his fingertips running across it almost reverently, his lips 
whispering something she could not hear.  He looked 
up at her with a look of understanding and amazement 
but said nothing.  As realization hit her she went to grab 
it from him but it suddenly fell from his hands, his entire 
body contorting from the spasm that wracked it.  He 
stood frozen in the moment and then another spasm 
racked his body and he dropped so fast Scully had little 
time to react, his head meeting the edge of the desk on 
his way to the floor.

Scully followed him down; the head wound already 
bleeding when he hit the floor.  She rolled him onto his 
back.  "Mulder?  Dammit, Mulder!"  He was 
unresponsive, his eyes glazed.  Unable to palpate a 
radial pulse and feeling no respirations she bolted for 
the phone to dial 911.

"This is Agent Dana Scully with the F.B.I.  I have an 
agent down!  Forty-three year old male in cardiac and 
respiratory arrest, I am a doctor, I will start CPR, 
basement offices, tell them to come in through the 
garage!"

She dropped the phone on the desk, returning to the 
floor with Mulder.  Tilting his head back and opening his 
mouth she blew a deep breath into his lungs and then 
clutched her hands together and started CPR. 
"1..2..3..4..5..."


NORTHEAST GEORGETOWN MEDICAL CENTER


Scully had resuscitated him in the office before the 
paramedics had arrived.   His heart rate had been 
thready, erratic and on advice from the hospital the use 
of a defibulator had stabilized him. By the time they had 
reached the hospital his vitals were almost normal but 
he had remained catatonic on the way in.
The results of an EKG showed that his heart had been 
subjected to some sort of electrical trauma.  "You're 
certain that he hadn't touched anything, that he didn't 
receive any sort of electrical shock?" The young ER 
doctor asked her.

Nothing earthly Scully thought to herself.  "No, I was 
standing right next to him.  He had some sort of seizure 
and then just dropped to the floor in arrest."
She caressed Mulder's arm, watching his face for some 
response as the doctor continued to study the test 
results, his glazed eyes staring back at her but seeing 
nothing.  "There's nothing in the tests we've run that 
indicates any type of cardiopulmonary cause here.  I 
think maybe we need to do a CAT scan and an MRI.  
His BP is good or I would suspect an aneurysm but 
there are also other possibilities in the form of a stroke 
or some sort of neurological disorder.  I could 
recommend a neurologist."

From somewhere, the mention of a neurologist hit home. 
Something she had read recently about a friend from 
med school who had been named the head of the
Neurology Department here.  "Um, yes, I understand Dr. 
Jason Leonard is head of the department now, I went to 
med school with him, if you could let him know I'd like 
him to take a look at my partner..." 

"Yes, certainly.  You're a doctor?" the young doctor 
asked somewhat surprised.  "I'm sure you're aware then, 
there is a very real possibility of brain damage due to 
oxygen deprivation. You have medical power of 
attorney?"

Scully looked up from her study of Mulder's frozen 
features.  She had only half listened to what the doctor 
had been telling her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You're not his wife but I see you listed on his chart as 
the emergency contact."

Scully tried to make it sound matter-of-fact, "Yes-we 
work for the F.B.I. We've been partners a very long time.  
It's easier that way."  It was more than obvious to the 
doctor as he watched Scully thread her fingers through 
Mulder's unresponsive ones, that these two were much 
more than partners.  She turned to look at him then, 
meeting his eyes, "He wasn't out long enough; I refuse 
to believe this is caused by brain damage."

Somehow this all felt like deja vu only this time she was 
present to see the effects.  This time however, Mulder 
was not raving about in a padded room.  This time, his 
mind was somehow frozen in that moment when he 
touched the artifact back in the office and she was at a 
loss at how to bring him back.  Still wearing her coat, 
she pulled it more tightly around her, her hand sliding 
into the big pocket to worry the surface of that very 
same artifact in some hope she would find an answer 
there.

Within a half hour, they had stitched up Mulder's head 
wound and had him on an IV drip.  The heart monitor 
showed a steady reassuring 74 beats per minute. As 
they were preparing to take him down for tests a nurse 
came in to inform her that there was a Walter Skinner in 
the ER waiting room and that he wished to speak with 
her.  She leaned over the gurney, caressing Mulder's 
cheek, his eyes still lifelessly gazing up at her.  Placing 
a gentle kiss on his forehead she nodded to the orderly.

She found Skinner in the waiting room as the nurse had 
said.  At the moment he was standing at the window, 
his back to her with his hands on his hips, his dark 
trench coat giving him a menacing look from behind.  
Seeing her reflection in the glass he turned as she 
approached his eyes catching the worry lines that were 
as much in evidence on her face as he knew they were 
on his own.

"I got word that Mulder was rushed in here in cardiac 
arrest.  What happened?"

Scully met his eyes; he could see the resignation in 
them.  The oversized coat she still wore made her look 
so much less than her usual self.  "I don't know" she 
almost whispered.  "They don't think it was a heart 
attack.  He just literally dropped dead right there in front 
of me."  He watched as her eyes welled with tears, the 
shock now wearing off to become grief.

Skinner reached out to touch her shoulder in an act of 
reassurance. "The nurse said his vitals were normal 
now, how's he doing?"

She looked away, brushing angrily at the tears that 
threatened to spill from her eyes.  Skinner was the last 
person she wanted to see her like this.  "He's 
unresponsive, catatonic, the ER doctor is afraid there 
could be brain damage from the lack of oxygen to his 
brain."

"A stroke?"

She shook her head, choking back the sob that 
threatened to burst from her.  Skinner fought the urge to 
wrap her in an embrace, not certain that she would 
welcome it especially in this public place.  He looked 
around, almost suspiciously.  "You know, this is the 
hospital they brought him to before.  Are you okay with 
him being here?"

She nodded a small smile, realizing what he reference.  
"They-they just took him for some tests.  I have a friend 
from med school, a neurologist who is on staff here now.  
I've asked for him." 

Skinner shuffled his feet, looked down and slid his 
hands into the pockets of his coat.  "You know-we had 
this conversation this morning..."

"I know, he told me.  He said you wanted to see me 
because you weren't getting anywhere with him and you 
won't.  He'd never be happy behind a desk sir; you 
know that as well as I do."

"Agent Scully?"  They both turned at the sound of her 
name, one of the ER nurses was approaching her with 
a somewhat distressed look on her face.  The nurse 
pulled them aside so she could speak somewhat 
privately.  "They need your help down in imaging.  Mr. 
Mulder seems to have regained consciousness but he's 
being quite uncooperative."

"Oh God," Scully glanced quickly at Skinner and then 
turned to follow the nurse.  A few steps down the hall 
she hesitated.  "Sir?" She fumbled with her coat, 
tugging on something she had stuffed into one of the 
large pockets.  Pulling out an object wrapped in a 
leather covering she handed it to Skinner.  "Could you 
see that the Gunmen get this?" 

He took the object from her with a puzzled look.

"I think that is the cause of Mulder's illness."


**


Standing on a high point of land, the city stretched out 
below him.  Built by their own hands, it was an 
incredibly intricate labyrinth of buildings and temples.  
The houses were arranged in long terraces and simply 
built.  The temples, on the other hand, were elaborate 
masses of monolithic block   faultlessly cut with razor 
sharp edges that integrated completely into each other.  
Intricate carvings decorated the exterior of many of the 
temples.  The whole city had been neatly terraced and 
carved into the mountainside.
Lush greenery surrounded the city on all sides, hiding it 
from all but the sky above.  The combination of stone, 
foliage and water made it a work of natural sculpture, a 
place where man and the earth lived in harmony, a 
heart-achingly beautiful place.

But now it had become a city in turmoil and fear. Failed 
crops and hunger gripped the people and the demand 
for sacrifice grew.  The gods were angry the priest had 
told them and the king had ordered that blood needed 
to be spilled to appease them.  Warriors had raided the 
outlying villages, dragging off those chosen for sacrifice.  
He'd come here to hide and to watch as below him the 
blood of many of his fellow villagers spilled down the 
steps of the temple, their screams echoing off the faces 
of the other buildings and up into the heavens above 
him.

Fear griped him, making it hard to breathe, how could 
this carnage make the gods happy?  His friends were 
being taken from their homes and slaughtered, many of 
them attempting to flee into the jungle only to be 
brought back by the king's warriors.  He was one of 
them, his flight instinct urging him to run but he found 
for the moment he could not take his eyes from the 
scene below him.

Behind him he heard the rustling of foliage.  He froze, 
knowing for certain that when he turned around death 
would be staring him in the face.  More thrashing filled 
the jungle behind him and when he did turn he found 
himself face to face with two of the king's warriors.  He 
bolted, dashing off into the jungle, knowing that if he 
were caught his heart would be added to those already 
piled on the sacrificial alter below.  He ran, down the 
hillside, brushing aside vines and stumbling over 
exposed roots, his heart pounding in his throat with the 
sound of the men behind him.  Crashing on through the 
dense foliage, branches cutting at his hands and face, 
he thought for a time he would elude his captors.  But 
then he fell, coming down hard, his arms out in front of 
him in some feeble attempt to prevent himself from 
being injured.  He was going to die, what did it matter?

Strong arms grabbed his upper arms pulling him almost 
to his feet.  He struggled, trying desperately to shake 
the men off but he was no match for their strength and 
soon found himself being dragged back through the 
jungle, across the courtyard and up the many steps to 
the altar. His eyes scanned the people below 
desperately searching for one, the woman he loved, 
screaming her name as they pinned him to the alter.  
The village priest began to chant, standing above him 
holding the sacrificial dagger.  Pain lanced through his 
body as the sheath cut through his chest and he 
remembered nothing else.


**


"What's going on?" Scully hurried after the nurse who 
now stood before the elevator angrily punching the 
DOWN button as if it would encourage the elevator to 
arrive more quickly.

"I don't know.  I picked up the call from imaging.  There 
was a lot of yelling in the background, they just said to 
get you down there STAT -- come on, come on!"  She 
continued to smack the elevator button.

When the elevator doors opened on the diagnostic level 
another nurse was nervously pacing the hallway.  "Are 
you Dana Scully?"

"Yes, where is he?"  Before the nurse could answer 
they both heard him screaming; the nurse bolting for the 
exam room with Scully right on her heels.
Stepping into the technician's office Scully could see 
through the glass window to the exam room.  Three 
orderlies had Mulder pinned to the wall.  His face was 
beet red as he tried to fight the men that held him.  He 
continued to scream, terrified of the restraint, his voice 
growing hoarse.  It sounded like he was saying "Asordo", 
over and over but she had no idea what the word meant 
or why he was screaming it.

Someone came through the door behind her, a doctor, 
pushing past her as she entered the exam room.  She 
saw the needle in his hand and knew immediately that 
they were about to sedate Mulder.

"No, wait! What are you giving him?"  The needle went 
into Mulder's hip before she could get the doctor's 
attention.  "Dammit it, what did you give him?"

"Five milligrams Haloperidol, he almost killed the 
technician," the doctor answered angrily motioning to 
the young woman who was being attended to on the 
opposite side of the room.  Scully turned back to Mulder, 
the fear draining from his face as the drug took over.  
He slid to the floor with the aid of two orderlies.  "Oh, 
Mulder," she stooped to touch him but he shied away 
from her.  

"Ego indeo asordo..." he all but whispered as his eyes 
drifted shut.

"I want him in the psych ward, five point restraints!"

Scully stood and turned to the doctor who was barking 
orders.  "Who the hell are you?" 

As Scully squared off with the offending doctor the 
orderlies had strapped Mulder onto a gurney and were 
in the process of wheeling him out of the room.  She 
turned around again, "Just stop right there!"

"I might ask you the same thing.  Who gave you the 
authority to just come barging in here?" The doctor was 
a big man, brusque, probably mid 50's.

"He's my-I have legal medical power of attorney over 
this patient, I'm his personal physician."

"And you have the authority to practice in this hospital?"

"No..."

"Then they'll take him where I tell them to take him. Fifth 
floor, restraints!"

Scully knew how Mulder hated restraints, she didn't 
want him waking up in them, not again.  "He's not 
violent, that's totally unnecessary."

"Yeah, well tell that to Ms. Ellis..."  The doctor stormed 
out of the door after Mulder's gurney.

Scully looked around at the shambles of the exam room.  
A young nurse was being attended to by another 
physician. She made her way across the room and 
squatted down next to the young woman.  She noted 
her name tag, KATIE ELLIS.  "Katie, I'm so sorry, are 
you alright?"

The doctor looked up from his ministrations for a 
moment, "Looks like she might have suffered a minor 
concussion, I'm going to have her admitted overnight."

Scully turned back to Katie, "Can you tell me what 
happened?"

"He came too during the scan, I think he was just 
frightened, but I've never seen anyone that frightened.  
He was terrified.  We shut it down, tried
to talk him down, get him out but I guess he just didn't 
understand.  Doesn't he speak English?"  Katie asked.

Scully looked back at her confused, "What do you 
mean?"

"He was chanting or something, I couldn't understand 
him.  It was like he didn't know who I was or what I was 
telling him.  Then he just grabbed me and pushed me 
back against the wall, then the guys came in, he yelled 
your name a couple times, you're Dana right? And then 
he started yelling something like 'asordo' and you know 
the rest.  I'm sorry it got so out of control but I didn't 
know how to calm him down."

"It's not your fault Katie," Scully stood and helped the 
doctor get Katie into a wheelchair before leaving the 
room in search of Mulder.


GEORGETOWN PSYCHIATRIC WING


It wasn't hard to find the psych ward on the east wing of 
the fifth floor, she'd been there before.  When she 
stopped at the desk to ask for Mulder's room number 
the nurse asked her to have a seat in the small waiting 
room across the hall, explaining that Dr. Leonard was 
on his way in and wanted to talk with her immediately.  
The room was small, about the size of an average 
hospital room. It was carpeted with two nicely 
upholstered sofas, a lounger and a small kitchenette 
with coffee.  She poured herself a cup and sat down 
hard on the end of one of the sofas.  Cradling the cup in 
her hand she took a sip, tilting her head back to inhale 
the pungent aroma.  It was the first chance she'd had to 
relax since she'd gotten out of bed that morning.  

She continued to sip her coffee lazily, thinking hard over 
the events of the day.  What had brought this all on?  
Was Mulder's condition truly a reaction to the artifact?  
She'd denied it all the first time around, running off in 
search of answers and leaving him behind to be 
drugged into a stupor; she would not be fool enough to 
do it again.  She needed to get a hold of Amina Ngebe.  
Find out if it was really her that had sent her this artifact.  
If so, she needed to know how Amina had come to be in 
possession of it and if the ship had reappeared. But first, 
she needed to get Mulder some help; she would not let 
him go through that hell again.

Someone cleared their throat on the other side of the 
room.  The sound startled her from her thoughts.  She 
looked over in the direction from which it had come.
Jason Leonard, Dr. Leonard now stood in the doorway, 
he smiled tentatively at her, "I didn't mean to startle you 
Dana."  She started to get up but he waved her off, 
coming over to sit on the opposite end of the sofa.  "I 
have to say, I'm surprised to see you here -- in another 
role, that is.  How are you?"

Jason Leonard had been a classmate in med school.  
He was probably Mulder's height with a slightly heavier 
build, short cropped curly hair and dark eyes that were 
now hidden behind wire rim glasses.  He'd been a 
member of the little clique she'd hung in with until they 
all branched off into different fields.

"I'm not the one you need to be asking that question."

"So I understand.  Dr. Kelley filled me in on what 
happened down in Imaging."

"Is that who that idiot was?  I want the restraints off, 
Jason."

"Dana," he reached over to touch her hand.  "I think we 
should leave them on, at least until he's lucid.  Until we 
run some neurological tests, we don't know what we're 
dealing with. He has a history of violent behavior from 
what I'm reading here about the last episode."  He 
flipped casually though a thick file she knew instinctively 
was Mulder's.

She set her coffee cup down with a shaky hand.  "He 
was frightened Jason, he didn't understand what was 
happening to him. There was no need to drug him like 
that, if they just would have let me talk to him. He won't 
hurt anybody.  I know he won't hurt me.  Please Jason," 
why was she begging?  She could just go in there and 
take them off herself.  "I'll sit with him until he wakes up.  
I don't know how to explain it; I won't have him wake up 
restrained Jason, not again."

Jason took in her haggard appearance.  According to 
the file, she was his F.B.I. partner and legal power of 
attorney but it was painfully obvious they were much 
more to each other.  She was just as strong willed now 
as he had remembered her and he wasn't about to butt 
heads with her.  It had never worked before.  He'd wait 
it out.  Let the guy wake up and take it from there.


7:22 A.M.


She awoke to someone stroking her arm.  She raised 
her head from the edge of the bed and looked into 
some slightly groggy hazel eyes, a gentle smile curving 
his dry lips.  Taking his hand, she brought it up to place 
a soft kiss on the back of it.  "Good morning, sleepy."

Pulling his hand away he stroked her hair, pushing it 
away from where it had stuck to the side of her face in 
sleep.  "Who's the sleepy one?" He'd drifted in and out 
all day yesterday but this was the first time he'd been 
lucid enough to speak to her. 

She sat up and looked at him, really looked at him. He 
was pale, the dark circles under his eyes giving him a 
hallow look.  He looked confused and a little 
apprehensive.  "Do you know where you are?"  As he 
glanced about the room, she noticed him fiddling with 
something on the other side of the bed, the restraint 
strap she realized.  Then he turned to her, "It looks 
alarmingly familiar.  I'm in the nut ward again," he 
sighed.  "Do they just automatically send me here now 
when I'm admitted?" There was resignation and a little 
disgust in is scratchy voice.

"I'm sorry Mulder, you shouldn't be here."

"Why am I here?"

"You don't remember?"

She watched him think for a minute, a moment of fear 
passed across his face, he touched his chest, "I only 
remember -- we were in the office, you had opened that 
package from Africa-I remember..."

"What?"

He hesitated, the memory of his dream coming back.  
He felt a little unsure of what to admit and what was 
best to keep to himself.  This was nothing like he'd 
experienced in '99 or recently in North Dakota for that 
matter; the details of which he hadn't shared with his 
partner.  "Nothing-just weird dreams I think," was all he 
would admit.  He reached for the water pitcher but his 
movements were still sluggish. Scully had seen 
something pass across his face, worry or fear, she 
wasn't sure but got up to pour him a glass of water, 
which he took from her with a shaky hand.  She knew 
he was keeping something from her.

He sipped the water, holding it with both hands to 
steady the glass.  He felt loopy; shit what had they 
given him?  "What was in the box?"

She sighed, giving him that "What are you not telling 
me?" look.  She knew he got it loud and clear but 
answered his question anyway.  "That was the day 
before yesterday Mulder, it's Sunday.  There was 
another artifact in the box, Professor Ngebe sent it, 
similar to the one the rubbing was produced from, the 
markings were the same, I recognized them."

His face lit up immediately, she could almost see the 
cloud lifting from his brain.  "From the ship? The ship 
you told me about in Africa?  Do you suppose it's 
reappeared on the beach?" He was already fumbling 
with the covers, sitting up in an attempt to get out of bed.  
She jumped back as he swung his long legs over the 
side but stopped immediately when a wave of nausea 
swept over him.  She watched as his face went white 
and grabbed him to hold him steady.  

"Dammit, Mulder, you're not going anywhere!  Not until 
we find out what's going on. Put your head down."

He pushed her back gently when the dizziness had 
subsided then raised his head slowly to meet her eyes.  
"What is going on?"  

All the fight went out of her when she saw the worry 
reflected back in his.  She raised the head of the bed 
and helped him settle back into it, sitting down next to 
him.  "You collapsed in the office yesterday, cardiac 
arrest," she said as his eyes grew alarmed.  "You were 
holding the artifact when it happened."  When he 
attempted to say something she shushed him with a 
finger to his lips.  "You were catatonic and unresponsive 
by the time we got you here.  Your heart is fine, no sign 
of any cardiopulmonary disease or damage.  They took 
you down last night for a CT scan and MRI; you came 
to during the MRI and attacked the technician, that's 
how you ended up here."  He searched her face with 
that same
"What are you not telling me?" look.  She sighed, 
"Mulder, what does 'asordo' mean?"

He shook his head ever so slightly; she could imagine 
the thoughts running though his mind.  His eyes closed 
and tilted his head back against the pillows.  Was it 
happening all over again?  He knew that's what she was 
afraid of. "There's no oral dissonance, no voices Scully, 
I feel fine."  She ignored him.

"You were shouting it, they hit you with some 
Haloperidol, you looked at me and said 'ego indeo 
asordo'."

"I need help."


10:13A.M.


A light rap on the door startled her.  She had spent the 
last hour gazing at her sleeping partner.  He'd fallen 
back to sleep, still fighting the effects of the Haloperidol.  
She'd gotten him to tell her a little of the dream he'd had.  
Though it was frightening in its intensity what scared her 
more was the way his actions had paralleled it.  Right 
down to screaming the name of the woman he loved.  
She looked up to find Jason standing in the doorway. 
"How's your patient?"

Scully pushed herself up from the uncomfortable chair, 
patting Mulder's arm reassuringly, "Still snoozing off the 
dope."  

Stepping away from the bed she motioned to Jason and 
they both stepped to the other side of the room.  "You 
look beat Dana, why don't you go home for a while?"

"I can't Jason; it's a long story..."

"Yeah, I gather from the size of this file I've been 
carrying around."  Jason hefted Mulder's medical file 
and then flipped it open.  "The good news is his CT 
scan and MRI are clean but there are some anomalies 
on the EEG that concern me."

"What type of anomalies?"  Scully glanced at the bed 
and then back to Jason.

"Unusual activity in areas we don't normally see it.  
From what I gather this is similar to what put him here 
back in '99.  The guy ended up in a padded cell
Dana.  If we can't determine a physical cause for this 
then I think you need to consider a psychological one."

"What do you mean, from what you gather?  Can't you 
compare the test results?"

"Yeah, I could, if I had them but they don't seem to be 
anywhere in this hospital."

She didn't like the sound of that.  "They're gone?" 

Jason didn't either, "Dana -- what's going on here?  
Who is this guy?"

"Yeah, Dana, who is this guy?"

They both froze as Mulder's dry voice came from behind 
them.  Turning around they found him sitting up in bed.  
He did not look happy.  Scully touched Jason's arm, 
guiding him towards Mulder's bedside.  "Mulder, this is 
Jason Leonard, he's a Neurologist, we went to med 
school together.  Jason, this is Fox Mulder my -- my 
partner."

Mulder gave her a look she couldn't quite comprehend.  
"You know Scully, one of these days you and I have to 
sit down and determine just exactly what we are to each 
other."

Scully ignored the rub. This was no time to get into a 
discussion of their relationship, especially not in front of 
Jason.  "We were just discussing the results of the 
tests..."

"Like hell, what you were discussing was the fact that Dr. 
Neurologist here thinks I'm delusional, that I belong 
here."

Mulder's behavior was beginning to infuriate her; he 
was acting like she'd gone behind his back to discuss 
his medical care.  For now she was going to ignore it.  
"...we need to determine the cause of what happened to 
you yesterday, Mulder." 

Mulder glared at her.  "You know what caused it Scully; 
the problem is none of your damn tests are going to 
prove it for you so when can I get out of here?"

Jason cleared his throat.  "Look, you two can get into 
your own debate on your own time.  I'd like to run some 
neurological tests, and a PET scan Fox, if I don't see 
anything there that causes concern, I see no reason to 
keep you.  The cardiologist might want to send you 
home with a 24 hour monitor though.  Dana cares about 
you, she and I just want to be sure what happened 
yesterday doesn't happen again.  Agreed?"

"Fine."

"I'll go see what time I can get you scheduled."  With 
that Jason ducked out of the room, pulling the door too 
as he left.

When they were alone again, Scully moved closer to 
the bed, crossing her arms in front of her she almost 
hissed at him, "Dr. Neurologist?  What the hell was that 
all about?"

Mulder tilted his head back against the pillows, covering 
his face with both hands; he let out an exasperated sigh.  
"Look, I'm sorry, I was out of line."

"Yes, you were.  I'm sure Jason wonders why I'm 
wasting my time with you at this point."

"Jason, huh?  Was he before or after Daniel?" 

"What?"  This confrontation was suddenly escalating 
into something that would end up with one of them 
being hurt.  She had no idea what had brought on this 
hostile attitude of his all of a sudden and she wondered, 
for the first time if what Jason had said to her might be a 
possibility.  She didn't answer him and when he realized 
it was probably for the better he changed the subject.

"What happened to the artifact?"

She sat down, God, she was tired.  "I gave it to Skinner 
to take over to the Gunmen."

He wasn't angry at her, just at her attitude.  She knew 
damn well what he believed had happened to him 
yesterday.  What had influenced the dream or vision 
he'd had?  It was happening all over again only this time 
something was different.  He felt different.  This time 
there was no noise, no pain, no voices in his head, he 
felt enlightened or-or illuminated with something 
unknown.  The urge to move on it was becoming 
overwhelming and the longer they kept him here the 
more frustrated he knew he would become. He needed 
her help not her medical expertise.  "We need that 
artifact, Scully.  That's where you're going to find your 
answers.  We need to find out where it was found, if 
there are more pieces.  You told me before you thought 
it had led you to a key, the key to all the questions 
we've been asking; a piece of a puzzle that was left for 
us to put together.  After what happened to me 
yesterday, I think I know how to put those pieces 
together."

No, despite how angry it would make him, she was not 
going to believe what he was suggesting.  "Mulder, what 
are you talking about?  Please-don't sugg..."

He reached for her, caressing the side of her cheek, 
she was scared, scared for him.  "I'm OK, I'm not crazy," 
he chuckled briefly.  "Just trust me, Scully."


GEOREGETOWN IMAGING DEPARTMENT 3:40 P.M.


They had come up and gotten him about an hour after 
Jason had left the room.  The PET scan would alert 
them to any usual brain activity.  The same test they 
had run on Gibson.  Leaving Mulder in Jason's care she 
made a quick trip home to change and bring Mulder 
back some clothes.  She knew the moment she stepped 
into the exam area that things had not gone well.  Jason 
and two technicians hovered over a lighted screen 
conferring over Mulder's scans.
Mulder was nowhere in sight.

"Geez -- will you look at this..." one of the technicians 
tapped his co-worker on the arm.  "You ever see 
anything like this?"

"He must have been having a hell of a dream," the other 
tech commented as he used his finger to highlight the 
areas he was referring to.  "I've never seen activity in 
these areas either.

Jason caught here eye, "Dana, come here, you need to 
see this."

The concern evident on his face, she moved to stand 
next to him.  What she saw on the screen brought back 
memories immediately, of a twelve-year-old boy and his 
incredible abilities.  Her hand went to her mouth as a 
small gasp escaped her.  Mulder believed that Gibson's 
abilities were attributed to something akin to alien DNA; 
something that despite her beliefs she had proved was 
a part of every human being. 

Jason caught her reaction.  "What?"

"I've -- we've, Mulder and I have seen this before.  A 
young boy we had contact with several years ago."

"He had this same heightened activity in the temporal 
lobe?"

"Yes, very similar."

"How did you treat him?  The human brain normally 
functions at 5 to 10 percent of its capacity.  What we're 
looking at here is at least 50 percent; I couldn't even 
begin to tell you how to slow this down."

"We didn't.  He was just a normal kid-only..."

"Only what?"

She turned to look Jason right in the eye.  "He was 
clairvoyant, he could read minds Jason."

"Dana, that's not possible."  He touched her shoulder as 
if asking her to get a grip on herself.  "Those are just a 
cheap parlor tricks. Look, I know Mulder is your friend 
but you're a doctor, you know what the human body is 
capable of and what it's not." 


"Jason, I've seen things that 15 years ago I wouldn't 
have believed either.  You have no idea what the 
human body is capable of."

Jason smiled at her hesitantly.  "OK, so what happened 
to this kid?"

"We don't know."  Mulder's voice came from the 
doorway.  He walked over to stand next to Scully so he 
could see what they were looking at.  He leaned down 
and in a soft voice meant only for her he whispered, 
"What more proof do you need?"

At this point she didn't know whether to be upset, 
worried or scared to death.  She had seen scans done 
before on Mulder and they had never looked like this.
Jason was right, neither of them had any idea how to 
treat this or even if it needed treating.  Mulder actually 
seemed fine now.  "Mulder, I..."

Mulder stepped back a few steps, the irritation again 
evident on his face.  "Look, you two can stand here and 
debate what you see for as long as you think it's 
necessary, I'm going upstairs and find my clothes."

"Mulder -- this could be dangerous, maybe you should 
stay here until we know what to do about this," Scully 
pleaded with him.

"You've already decided you don't know how to treat it 
and there's no way I'm going through that hell again.  
You," he pointed to Jason, "can find me some discharge 
papers or I'm walking out of here AMA.  And you," he 
pinned Scully with a warning look, "can take me home 
or I'm calling a cab."  He then turned, making sure he 
mooned them both as he left the room.

Scully turned back to Jason.  "I'm sorry, he's usually not 
like that. Please, can you write up those papers?" 

Jason signed heavily.  "I don't like this Dana.  I know 
you're worried about him, that you want to do what's 
right, but I'm also worried for you.  This behavior could 
be a sign that we're dealing with some mental disorder.  
He could get violent."

She looked down, her fingers nervously playing across 
the screen in front of her and then looked back up to 
Jason.  "Truthfully, I'm more worried that it's not some 
mental disorder, at least that I know we could treat."


GEORGETOWN PYSCHIATRIC WING


He'd pulled on the clothes that Scully had brought and 
gone into the bathroom to throw some water on his face.  
He leaned over the sink, letting the water run a few 
minutes until it was at least lukewarm.  He cupped his 
hands under the stream and splashed the water on his 
face several times.  He then propped his hands on 
either side of the sink, standing there to let the water 
drip from his chin.  God, what was going on?  The vision 
he'd had, it had been so real. He remembered the pain 
lancing through his chest; his own life coming to an end.  
Somehow it had felt so much larger than that, like it was 
the death of thousands he'd experienced, not just his 
own. He remembered holding the artifact in the office.  
The characters suddenly conforming to reveal a 
message that he couldn't quite read at the time but 
thought he understood.  He needed to see it again.   He 
groped for a towel and raised his head to look in the 
mirror.  His movements freezing at what he saw 
reflected there.

The image that stared back at him was not his own.  
What he saw before him was the image of an older man 
with a flowing white beard and hair, dressed in a white 
cloak.  He rubbed his eyes in frustration but the image 
remained.  A sudden chill wracked his body and he 
reached out a shaking hand to touch the glass before 
him.  When his hand made contact with the mirror, the 
image disappeared.

"Mulder?"  Scully's light wrapping on the door startled 
him and he found he couldn't make his voice utter an 
acknowledgement.  She pushed the door open gently to 
find him leaning against the sink, white as a sheet.  A 
worried look immediately crossed her face, he looked 
like he was about to pass out. "Are you ok?" she asked 
with concern, moving into the room to take his arm.  

He yanked it away from her, "Yeah," he said as he 
pushed past her and made his way unsteadily across 
the room.  She turned around and followed him.

"Mulder, I don't like this."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed a 
shoe, jamming his foot into it and tying it angrily.  "I 
know you don't but I gotta get out of here Scully, or
I might really go nuts."


MULDER'S TOWNHOUSE


There hadn't been much conversation in the car on the 
way home.  She'd finally gotten him to tell her a little bit 
about what had caused him to hare off during the tests. 
When they got in, Mulder headed right for the study and 
had been there ever since. He was working on the 
computer; she could hear the keys even through the 
drone of the basketball game he had put on to cover it 
up.  By 8:30 he still hadn't made an appearance outside 
the room.  She had thrown together a small supper of 
grilled chicken and pasta and headed up the stairs to try 
and entice him into eating some of it.  The television 
was still on but the room seemed quite.  Maybe he had 
fallen asleep. 

Pushing open the door she found the room empty.  
Knowing he hadn't left the house, she made her way 
across the room to the desk, curious as to what he'd 
been so engrossed in all afternoon.  On the monitor was 
a web site detailing Mayan culture, there were also 
several other windows opened to Egyptian mythology, 
star charts and human evolution.  She glanced down at 
the desk and began to thumb her way through the 
papers that were strewn across its surface.  He had 
printed out pages and pages of reference material but 
what fascinated her most were the pages of hand 
written notes and incredibly detailed mathematical 
calculations. 

The sound of the water in the bathroom startled her, 
she felt like she was eavesdropping on him and yet she 
couldn't pull herself away from what he'd been doing. 
Moreover, she was in awe of the work he had done. 
She'd never known Mulder to be a great mathematician; 
he refused to balance the checkbook. But this was the 
work of someone not only knowledgeable in 
mathematical calculations but also astrological 
projections.  Her little calculator was still in the drawer, 
he'd done this all this in his head.  

"See, I was right all along, you were sent to spy on me."

His voice behind her made her jump.  But when he 
came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and 
pulling her back against his chest she relaxed and 
leaned back into him.  "I was just wondering what 
you've been doing up here all evening?"  She continued 
to page through the papers he'd been working on.  
"What are you trying to work out?"

He nuzzled her neck, something she found incredibly 
distracting.  "What do you mean?"  He'd asked the 
question like he didn't know what she was referring to 
and continued his ministrations.  She had the distinct 
impression he was either trying to change the subject or 
he really had no idea what she was talking about.  As 
good as his lips felt, she really needed to know.  
"Mulder, stop that!" she pulled herself out of his arms 
and turned to face him.  "What are all these calculations, 
this date, 2,012; look, you keep coming up with it over 
and over?" 

He actually looked totally confused and leaned over the 
desk to page his way through all the papers there.  "I -- 
was just looking for some information on what I might 
have seen in that vision.  I think it had something to do 
with Aztec or Mayan sacrifice.  Here," he grabbed up a 
few pages on Mayan culture.  "This mentions how they 
felt the need to sacrifice not only animals but humans 
as well to appease their gods."  He looked at her at last.  
"I think that's what I was experiencing..."  He could tell 
she didn't buy his weak attempt to cover his confusion 
when she slammed the papers she held down on the 
desk in front of him.  He stood up and stared at the 
sheets covered in his own scratchy penmanship.

"You have no idea what you were working on, do you?  
I know you're not a math wiz, Mulder.  This is calculus -- 
I don't know what else.  You did it in your head."  The 
wind went out of her sails when she realized from his 
panic face, he really didn't know either.  "How?"

His eyes came down to meet hers, she watched him as 
he wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his arms 
briskly as if he was suddenly cold.  Truth was he 
couldn't really remember much of this afternoon from 
the point where he'd sat down to do just what he told 
her, looking for some information on the Maya.  That 
was three hours ago.  "I don't know Scully, I honestly 
don't remember..."

Her heart ached for him and as she stepped towards 
him, opening her arms to him, he came willingly, 
stepping into them and pulling her tight relishing in her 
warmth.  "I made us some dinner," she mumbled into 
his shoulder.  "Please come down and eat with me."


7:05 A.M.


She awoke the next morning alone in bed with the 
unmistakable aroma of coffee filling the house. 
Downstairs she found Mulder seated at the table in his 
work clothes, tie strung about his neck, buttering a 
muffin he had just taken from the toaster.  

"What are you doing?  I hope you're not planning on 
going to work?"

He looked at her as if she had just asked the most 
ridiculous question he'd ever heard.  "It's Monday, why 
wouldn't I be going to work?"

She shuffled across the floor and slid into the seat next 
to him, placing her hand on his arm.  "Mulder, a few 
days ago they took you out of the office in what for all 
intents and purposes was cardiac arrest, you were in 
the hospital for two days, you've been having waking 
dreams, hallucinations, lapses in memory.  I don't think 
it's a good idea, not until we know what's causing this."

"You were planning on going in weren't you?" he asked 
around the bite of muffin he'd popped into his mouth. 

She didn't really acknowledge him but she didn't need to, 
he knew she was.  He got up from the table then, went 
over to the coffee maker and poured another cup 
adding the condiments the way she liked it.  Ambling 
back across the floor in his socks he handed her the 
cup.  "Well, then if I come too you can keep an eye on 
me there."

Her shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh.  There 
was no use fighting him when he was right.


FBI HEADQUARTERS


Scully made her way down the hallway with a tray from 
the cafeteria; a sub for Mulder and a salad for herself, 
and two bottles of water.  She had almost made it to the 
elevator when a familiar voice stopped her.  "Agent 
Scully?"  Skinner's deep voice resonated behind her 
and she turned to find him approaching her. He gave a 
quick glance in several directions as if looking to see if 
the coast was clear then he grabbed her arm gently and 
steered her into an adjacent empty hallway.

"I understand Mulder came in with you this morning.  
What the hell is he doing here?"

Scully sighed in resignation.  "As he put it, Sir, the 
doctors didn't exactly say he couldn't come in to work 
and since I was planning on coming in anyway, I could 
keep a better eye on him here."

"Is that your opinion also?"  She could hear the concern 
in his question, see it in his face.

"I don't know what to tell you.  They released him from 
the hospital because basically they couldn't find 
anything wrong with him and yet we both know there is."

"What to do you mean?"

"He's having visions, waking dreams; Dr. Leonard 
prefers to call them delusions and thinks he should be 
treated for schizophrenia.  Mulder, on the other hand, is 
certain that what he is experiencing is directly related to 
his exposure to that artifact I gave you to take to the 
Gunmen.  He says it has his name on it."

Skinner frowned, remembering the sight of Mulder in a 
padded room, his inability to help him when he asked 
for it.  "Is this the same thing that happened to him 
before?"

Scully sighed, "No, I don't think so, the effects are very 
different. The scans show activity in the brain similar to 
back in '99, much like what we saw in
Gibson, a capacity beyond what we normally see in the 
human brain.  He insists he's not in any pain; there's no 
dissonance, nothing like he experienced before, he just 
zones out. Yesterday I found him in the study working 
on some mathematical equations even I couldn't figure 
out and that he has no recollection of doing let alone 
what he was trying to calculate with them.  Byers just 
came and picked them up to analyze them for me.  I 
think that's what happened in the hospital...he was 
mentally somewhere, someone else."

Skinner glanced around again, smiled agreeably at a 
couple of agents who passed by.  "Scully, if you need 
any help, if there's anything I can do you know I'm 
here."

Scully gave him a hesitant smile. "I will, thank you," she 
said as she stepped away from him.

"Dana," she turned at the use of her given name.  "Just 
be careful, I know it's a whole different ballgame now."


X-FILES OFFICE


She found a desk full of papers and an empty chair 
when she entered the office.  Setting the tray down she 
briefly paged though the drawings and written text that 
littered Mulder's desk.  What the hell was he working on 
now?  A noise from behind her made her turn around.

Mulder was standing in the back of the office, his arms 
braced on the table his head bowed.  "Mulder?"  When 
she got no response she approached him cautiously. 
"What is it?"

He looked up suddenly, the anguish on his face making 
her heart suddenly ache.  He stood up and turned 
towards her.  "What the hell is that?" he demanded, 
motioning to the papers she had been sifting though. "I 
find myself working on this shit and I don't even know 
what it is or why I'm doing it."

He walked passed her and stood with his hands on his 
hips, a stance she recognized as very much his.  His 
hands came up and he buried his face in them.   Scully 
walked over to stand in front of him.  "I think I should 
take you home..."

His hands dropped immediately, "I don't want to go 
home!" he grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair 
and attempted to pass by her but she snagged his arm 
and held on tight despite his attempt to shake her off.  
"Let go of me!"

"Where are you going?" Scully demanded.

"To see the Gunmen -- the answers are in that artifact 
Scully, I keep trying to tell you that!" 

"I will not pick you up off the floor again, Mulder..."

He finally succeeded in yanking his arm from her grasp.  
"It's not going to happen again..."

"How can you know that?"

He rolled his eyes; a huge annoyed sigh escaped his 
lips.  "I just do.  Just like I was calculating the 
procession of equinoxes yesterday, the astronomical 
variances of planets and constellations and their 
alignments within a given century and comparing them 
to ancient calendars and even though I don't have a 
clue as to why I was doing it I discovered that every 
single one of them came up with the same date, 
December of the year 2,012.  The Mayan calendar, the 
most accurate calendar in the world, one that has 
existed for centuries ends in December of that year. 
The Egyptians worked it out too.  There's got to be 
some significance. And that, whatever I was working on 
there," he said pointing to the papers on the desk, "has 
something to do with an energy source.  Chemistry, 
astrophysics, Scully, have you ever known me to know 
anything about that? It's like I suddenly have this 
knowledge and its here in my fron for a reason and I'm 
more certain than anything that the answer to why is 
written on that artifact and I'll know how to read it."

She was certain he hadn't taken a breath in that long 
tirade and now he just stood there in front of her waiting 
for some form of acknowledgement from her that she 
understood what he was trying to tell her.  She didn't 
know what to say to him. Somewhere in there he'd 
dropped another word that didn't make sense, fron?  
What did that mean?  In the context it was used she 
had assumed he'd meant his head and yet that's not at 
all what he'd said.  All she was certain of was that he'd 
almost died three days ago and without any other 
explanation somehow that artifact had contributed to his 
collapse.  She would not let him touch that thing again.

"Okay, look," he said wiping his face in frustration.  
"There have been a lot of recent discoveries in the fields 
of archeology and geology that indicate that the many of 
earth's early civilizations were tied together somehow; 
that they all came from a common ancestral past. The 
names have been changed but their stories are all 
pretty much the same.  Written in these myths and 
legends is the history of mankind on a global scale.  
The ruins and artifacts that have been discovered are 
full of clues to a past we've only just begun to 
understand because the ability to understand them has 
been lost to us.  Somewhere in our past is the key to 
our future. What if someone had a connection to that 
past, could understand what was written?"

"And you think that it's you?"

Mulder shrugged into his jacket.  "Do you remember 
what Chuck said about the characters on the rubbing?  
What a Magic Square is-a way of trapping power to the 
person whose name or numerical correlative exercises 
the power written there?"

Scully closed her eyes and then opened them again to 
find Mulder standing there still waiting from some 
response from her.  "Mulder, that rubbing was a fake."

"You believe that?" He swung away from her and then 
turned around, using his hands to animate his speech.  
"Then why did it affect me the way it did?  What about 
what happened the other day?  Or hell, why did you go 
all the way to Africa for God's sakes?  You told me that 
what you found there were not only religious texts but a 
map of the human genome; a key to life itself.  Maybe 
that rubbing of that artifact wasn't meant for me, on the 
other hand, maybe this   artifact is. Maybe it maps my 
genome or somehow altered my genetic code.  You 
remember what we saw in Gibson."

"So you're telling me that you think this little piece of a 
greater whole that Ngebe sent me -- she sent it to ME, 
Mulder, has somehow given YOU some super   power 
to connect to another civilization or whomever or 
whatever created that artifact?"

Mulder shrugged, spread his hands in supplication. 
"See, it's like I told you years ago, we don't need to 
work on our communication skills, you understand me 
perfectly."

Scully crossed her arms across her chest, "That is 
ridiculous, Mulder."

"What?  The part about you understanding me or me 
being a super human?"

Scully turned away from him, dropping her arms down, 
"Dammit, Mulder, you can't just flip a switch and change 
someone's DNA, it doesn't work that way.  Many people 
who have returned from a near death experience 
believe they've acquired some sort of psychic ability..."

"NDE? Oh, that's good Scully; let me get out my diary."

"But, I think what you're experiencing has to do with 
what happened to you the other day, your body went 
through a very traumatic event and you need rest.  I 
think these hallucinations of yours are more of a post 
traumatic stress syndrome than anything else."

He glared at her suddenly.  "You know, I used to enjoy 
this technique you have of always trying to rationalize 
everything I say, but right now I think it's a bunch of bull 
crap."  He stalked back to the desk and picked up a file 
and thrust it at her.  "You remember this?  Those are 
the DNA results from the claw we found in Arizona.  
DNA you told me matched the alien virus, the virus you 
were exposed to.  The same DNA you found in Gibson.  
Junk DNA that is found in all of us, what you called a 
genetic remnant that in Gibson was turned on.  What if 
that artifact turned something on in me?"

"Mulder..."  She wasn't sure whether he was just being 
thickheaded or he really had gone over the edge.  "First 
of all," she shook the file at him. "This only proves that 
it's a common trait in all of our DNA."

"A common ancestral past."

"It doesn't prove you can turn it on and off.  It's not 
possible."

He grabbed the file from her and threw it back on the 
desk.  "You want proof, well then fine," he grabbed her 
hand and started to pull her towards the door but she 
stood her ground.  

"We are not going to see the Gunmen!"

"I know, we're going up to the lab, I want you to run a 
PCR."

"Mulder..."

Not letting go of her hand he turned back, "I need your 
help here Scully.  I need you to help me prove the 
impossible.  Have a little faith."

His last comment made her angry.  "Don't question my 
faith, Mulder."

He dropped her hand, his eyes met hers and a gentle 
smile curved his lips.  "Faith is believing in something 
when common sense tells you not to."  He turned and 
took a few steps towards the door, "You coming?"

She stood there watching his back disappear out the 
door.  "Isn't that from MIRACLE ON 34th...?" Her 
shoulders slumped again, damn him.  She turned and 
grabbed the papers from the desk.


F.B.I. LABS


She placed the last vile of blood in the container and 
gently pulled the needle from his arm, placing a cotton 
ball over the puncture wound.  "Hold that for a few 
minutes."  Mulder watched her label the vials in 
preparation for the test.  No one had questioned them 
when they had entered the lab and even though they 
were getting a few questionable looks from the other 
technicians, most of them seemed to accept that this 
was just another round of far out investigations from the 
pair in the basement office. She turned around and 
without saying a word angrily placed a Band-Aid over 
the cotton.  He started to roll his sleeve back down.

"How long will it take?"

"I'm going to call you a cab. I want you to go home like I 
asked you to before."  

As she started to step away he quickly grabbed her, 
sliding his hand down her arm making her turn back to 
him.  "I don't want us to argue over this Scully.  I know 
you're concerned.  Jason thinks I need a shrink but as 
far as I'm concerned you're the only doctor that can help 
me here.  That's all I'm asking."

She finally looked at him.  With her standing and him 
still sitting on the table where she'd drawn his blood 
they were eye to eye.  What she finally saw in those 
eyes shocked her.  He was frightened, literally scared to 
death and he knew she was the only person who could 
understand that fear.  With a quick glance around the 
lab she placed her hands on either side of his tired face, 
stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.  "We'll get through 
this Mulder, I promise you this."

She watched him close his eyes, his dark lashes 
coming to rest against his face.  He turned his head a 
little and as his lips came into contact with her right 
hand, he gently kissed her palm.  "I'm going to believe 
that," he whispered.


MULDER' S TOWNHOUSE 8:10P.M.


**


The sun beat down overhead, a relentless heat that 
never seemed to end.  The work was laborious, cutting 
the limestone to precise measurements required 
intricate skill if it were to fit in its place on the pyramid.  
The tools they used had been given to them by the 
gods and possessed a magic he didn't understand 
anymore than he understood why they had all been 
assembled to build this great monolith; a huge square 
that, as it rose steadily from the sand, tapered into a 
point aimed at the heavens.

Unlike other temples that were being built to 
commemorate gods or pharaohs; this one was to be 
different.  Larger than anything else on the plateau, it 
dwarfed the men who worked on it.  Travelers from 
other villages said it could be seen far off into the desert, 
its golden tip like a beacon in the sun.  Within its walls 
chambers were being cut but their purpose was as yet 
unclear. No pharaoh would make his trip to the next 
world from this place.  Its purpose remained a mystery.

He was hungry and thirsty now.  The water bearers 
didn't come often enough in this heat and the sweat 
dripped from his brow, his hands throbbing from broken 
blisters.  As he worked on the block near the edge of 
the quarry his footing began to slip, the block tilting ever 
so slightly in his direction.  The huge block of limestone 
could crush him in an instant if he were to become 
trapped beneath it.  He continued to work; shaping the 
block into the precise measurements he'd been given.  
More gravel slipped from beneath his feet and he 
scrambled for better footing.

Fear griped him as he realized the more he scrambled 
the more the gravel gave way cascading down into the 
quarry below.  The block leaned more precariously in 
his direction and then suddenly let go.  His arms came 
up to brace against the block in a feeble attempt to stop 
the monolith from crushing him.  He screamed for help 
but all his co-workers could do was watch as he and the 
huge stone tumbled down into the quarry together.


**

Scully could hear the television as she opened the door.  
It was dark in the room with the exception of the light 
from the television, a couple of men droning on about 
basketball on some sports talk show. She was about to 
toss her keys onto the table when she noticed Mulder 
sitting in the armchair, one leg on the ottoman, his head 
thrown back, asleep.  She set her things down on the 
table and walked across the room.  As she approached 
him she could see his face was somewhat flushed, 
sweat beaded his forehead.  Sitting down on the 
ottoman next to his leg she gently rubbed it to wake him.  
She wasn't sure who was more startled when he awoke 
with a gasp and sat up abruptly, his eyes wide.  She 
dropped the envelope she had brought home with her, 
placing her hands on his shoulders. 

"Oh God, Mulder, I'm sorry," touching him she could feel 
him trembling under her hands.  

Realization finally crossed his face and he dropped his 
head, running a hand through his hair, "Shit."

"You were having another dream, weren't you?"

He sat back, "Yeah, you could say that."  She watched 
him as he inspected his hands and then his head went 
back against the back of the chair and he closed his 
eyes again.  "What did you find?"  As she bent to 
retrieve the envelope she realized that he had asked 
almost as if he already knew the answer.

She slid the PCR results from the envelope, biting her 
lip as she did so.  What she now had in her lap was 
something she had told him was impossible only hours 
ago.  He didn't wait for her to say anything. Reaching 
over; he slid them from her grip and held the first one up.  
It was dated a few years ago though he couldn't 
remember the reason it had been done.  When he 
placed the current one on top of it and held them up 
together the evidence of what he believed stared right 
back at him.  There were obvious anomalies in the 
latest scan.  "It's just like Gibson, Mulder."  Her voice 
was hesitant, barely above a whisper.  "I don't 
understand it, but you were right.  It's as if somehow 
inactive DNA has suddenly been turned on."

"So I'm no longer a DNA match for myself huh?"

She smiled a little, "Something like that.  Mulder 
whatever is causing this; we have to find a way to treat 
this, these delusions of yours.  Look at you, you're 
exhausted."

A sudden look of disgust crossed his face.  "Pump me 
full of Thorazine?  I don't think anything your doctor 
friend has in his medicine chest will cure this."  He sat 
up a little, looked down at the films he still held in his 
hands.  "I'm not delusional, Scully.  It's something else."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he said looking up to meet her eyes.  "It's 
like I have this connection to something -- something 
ancient.  I think these dreams are clues --clues to 
answers you and I have been searching for all these 
years.  I just need you to bear with me a while, stop 
being my doctor.  I need you as a friend
Scully."

As frightened as she knew he still was, as worried as 
she was for him, she understood how he felt.  "Mulder," 
she rubbed his leg that still extended across the 
ottoman.  "I have been and always shall be your friend.  
What do you need me to do?"

Pulling his leg from beside her and placing both feet on 
the floor in front of him, Scully watched as Mulder took 
the envelope from her lap and without a word slid both 
the films back into it.  "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Has anyone else seen these?"

"No one, I ran the test myself.  I have the only results. 
When I knew what I was looking at I destroyed the rest 
of the blood samples."

"Good because I don't want to end up as a test subject 
for anyone but you."


5:14 A.M.


He came awake in a cold sweat.  The dream from 
earlier had come back with a vengeance only now he 
was fairly certain of where he had been.  Egypt, for 
centuries it had been the Mecca of culture.  Home to a 
civilization as old as creation itself, the birthplace of a 
library of wisdom and knowledge so complete it would 
today awe any scientist.  He'd stood in the great Library 
of Alexandria, its halls filled with ancient scrolls and 
texts said to have been the greatest collection of 
scientific knowledge in the ancient world.  Many today 
wonder what science would be like had the contents of 
this great library not been destroyed. 

He had then found himself in a great labyrinth, 
incredible underground chambers filled with 
breathtakingly colorful paintings and connected by 
intricate hallways filled with ancient Egyptian 
hieroglyphs.  His hands had scrolled down the text, 
reading stories from civilizations older than the 
Egyptians themselves.  Stories of a people who came 
from another land bringing with them their mathematical 
and scientific knowledge, architectural knowledge, star 
charts, maps and the formulae for sources of incredible 
energy that made it possible to travel from one world to 
the next.

Within these walls were written the history of the world, 
not as he knew it but as it had actually happened, 
secrets of a civilization that had flourished on a global 
scale thousands of years ago, before recorded history 
and that had vanished in the blink of an eye leaving little 
evidence of its existence. What he knew without a doubt 
was that this incredible place contained more 
knowledge than his muddled human brain could ever 
begin to assimilate.  It made his head hurt and he sat up 
quietly, putting his feet on the floor and resting his 
throbbing head in his hands.

He'd been here before, he realized, on this bridge 
between two worlds where he had to decide between 
life and death.  This however was not a choice between 
life and death; it was a different bridge, one that in one 
direction would lead him back to a time when the world 
was a different place, one that even the history books 
failed to mention.  He could feel the pull like a magnet, 
almost as if it were beckoning him to come back to a 
place he'd been before, perhaps were we'd all been 
before-on the brink of the future.  Something pulled at 
his memory, a date he'd seen calculated in the drawings 
within the labyrinth, a date he'd calculated himself only 
days ago, 2,012; the date the Maya believed signaled 
the end of the present world.  He closed his eyes in 
resignation.  He'd once told Scully that life wasn't 
governed by fate, that we had the free will to choose 
and that it was those choices that ultimately determined 
our fate.   What would happen if he gave in to these 
ancient memories?  Would he lose himself or become 
gifted with their knowledge? With every choice you 
change your fate he'd told her. He realized he now had 
a choice to make.

He pulled at the tee shirt that stuck to his chest; he 
needed to get out of the room, to think out what he had 
just experienced.  

As he moved to get off the bed Scully's hand came to 
rest on his back, her sleepy voice questioning his 
movements.  "Mulder?"  

He hadn't realized he had awoken her and he turned 
around to find her looking at him with concern.  "Hey, 
I'm sorry," he brushed her shoulder and took her hand 
in his.  "I can't' sleep, I'm just going to go downstairs for 
a while. Go back to sleep."  He leaned over, kissed her 
softly and started to slide off the bed.

"You won't tell me what's troubling you, will you?"  

Standing up he looked down at her.  "I will, I promise 
you, when I can figure it out for myself."

She listened to him pad down the stairs, heard the 
refrigerator door open and close, the television come 
then muted?  And finally, she heard the unmistakable 
opening and closing of the front door.


GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY


Despite the chilly morning he'd already worked up a 
sweat by the time he reached Georgetown's athletic 
field.  Dawn was barely breaking the eastern horizon 
and he found himself alone on the track.  He made the 
first few laps at his usual pace and then the scenery 
around him began to change. He felt the earth shudder 
beneath him and looked down to find the track's surface 
had changed to cobblestone.  As he ran he realized he 
was no longer running on Georgetown's track but 
darting through ancient village streets as structures 
crumbled around him.  The sounds became deafening, 
a thunderous roar came from the earth and the people 
that ran with him screamed.  The ground continued to 
tremble, huge fissures opened, ash fell like snow 
coating him and sucking the air from his lungs.  He ran 
harder but there seemed to be no escape from the 
terror as the world fell apart around him.

Hundreds of people filled the streets, running together; 
many of them falling only to be crushed beneath the 
feet of fellow villagers.  He ran with them, a terrified mob 
running down the hill to the harbor below. When they 
reached the sea, people were scrambling to get into 
anything that would float, while others just swam out 
into the churning waters. Mulder could feel himself 
being pushed along with them.

The ground shook again, pushing up and then dropping 
from beneath him as he tried to outrun the surge of 
people who were carrying him into the sea thrashing 
and clawing at each other in fear.  He found himself 
being carried out with them away from the sinking land, 
hundreds of people seeking some sort of safety in the 
familiar waters.  As they drifted out many of them clung 
to boats and rafts as the water frothed and churned 
around them.  A hand reached out to grab him and he 
took it.  The arm pulled him tightly against the boat's hull 
and he clung to it desperately as the boat drifted away 
from land.  Other boats gathered with them, the 
screaming had now stopped and silence fell over the 
scene as they all watched their home sink beneath the 
sea.

**

Scully hadn't waited long before she dressed and 
headed out the door after Mulder.  She knew where 
he'd go, one of the reasons he'd moved here, 
Georgetown University's athletic field.  She spotted him 
on the track, not running at that easy jog he was 
comfortable with but running as if the hounds of hell 
themselves were after him.  The closer she got she 
could see him glancing back, his face an image of terror 
from the unseen force that she knew he imagined was 
after him.
He was on the other side of the track and she yelled his 
name but got no response.  There was no point in 
chasing after him; she'd never catch him until he fell in 
exhaustion so she waited until he came around the 
track.

His shirt was soaked with sweat; rivers of it ran down 
his face, his hair plastered to his head.  She waved at 
him trying to gain his attention but he ignored her, she 
could hear him panting as he approached her.  At a loss 
as to what else to do she made the only move she knew 
would stop him, she tackled him bringing them both 
down in a heap on the rough surface of the track.  He 
started to thrash about, gasping for air and kicking as if 
he were trying to swim away from her. 

"Mulder! Mulder!"  She crawled on top of him, pawing at 
him as she tried to pull his arms to his sides to calm this 
irrational fear he was enveloped in but he continued to 
fight her.  "Mulder, stop! It's me, Scully!  You're okay, 
you're safe!  She grabbed his head with both hands and 
forced him to look at her.  "Stop it, relax, it's over."  She 
tried to be calm but the truth was her own heart was 
pounding almost as fast as the one she felt pounding in 
his chest.

She watched his face as he came back to her, his 
breathing slowing a little.  She was still sitting on top of 
him.  "Take it easy, just breathe Mulder."  

He took a huge gulp of air.  "You know," he gulped 
again. "Any other time I'd -- I'd find this position 
incredibly erotic."  

She rolled her eyes and then closed them in submission 
before gently climbing off of him and helping him into a 
sitting position. "Just sit for a minute, I've got some 
water."  Patting him on the shoulders she got up and 
went to get the backpack she'd dropped.

He was trying to wipe the sweat from his eyes with his 
soaked shirt when she got back, handing him the towel 
she'd brought along.  He looked up with a thankful 
expression and took it.  Neither of them said anything 
for a while.  Mulder drank the water she'd offered and 
slung the towel over his shoulders, he was actually 
starting to feel cold as the sweat began to dry.  When 
Scully saw him shiver she produced a sweatshirt from 
her pack and offered it to him.  

"You wouldn't happen to have an ounce of sanity in that 
pack would you?"

"I wish I did Mulder. Come on..."  

He chugged the rest of the water before letting her help 
him stand and pull the sweatshirt over his wet head.  
"You need to get dry and warmed up and then we need 
to get you some help."

"I don't need a doctor, Scully."

She paused for a moment, reluctant to agree with him 
but knowing now that it was the only way.  She faced 
him, took his hand, "I know, I'm taking you to see the
Gunmen."


OFFICE OF THE LONE GUNMEN


It took Frohike several minutes to open the assortment 
of locks that secured their door.  He smiled when he 
opened the door to find the two of them standing there.  
"Mulder my man, you gotta stop scaring us like this," he 
quipped in reference to Mulder's latest hospital stay as 
the agents passed by him.

"Yeah, another trip back from the dead.  We're 
beginning to wonder if you don't have some biblical 
power."  Byers said as he gave Mulder a friendly hug.

"Don't encourage him boys, he's doodling again," Scully 
did not sound amused as she handed Byers the latest 
of Mulder's writings.  

He took the papers from her and leafed through them.  
"You know, I think I can tell you what this is -- or at least 
the theory behind it."

"You're kidding right?"  Mulder seemed somewhat 
astonished that Byers was able to make anything out of 
his drawings.

"No, not at all.  I think what you have here is a power 
source, one that has baffled scientist for centuries with 
its simplicity.  It was nicknamed
Brown's Gas because a scientist in California, Yull 
Brown actually built a generator using it."

"What sort of a power source?" Byers' comments had 
gotten Scully's attention.

"It's a combination of hydrogen and oxygen that burns 
at a low temperature and yet can burn holes through 
bricks or weld different types of metals together.
Basically water, when decomposed into its primitive 
elements by electricity, produces a clean, limitless, 
pollution free energy source." Langly piped in.

"So this is no scientific breakthrough then?" 

"Actually Jules Verne alluded to it in THE 
MYSTERIOUS ISLAND back in 1874.   If you remember, 
the characters in the story end up on a remote island 
when their balloon crashes.  At one point in the novel 
they're all sitting around the campfire discussing what 
will happen when the world runs out of coal.  Harding, 
the book's scientific genius exclaims, water! And then 
goes on to explain how one day the engine rooms of 
steamers and locomotives will be stocked with these 
two condensed gases which will burn with immense 
power...it will be the coal of the future."  Leave it to 
Frohike to add a little color to the conversation.

"But seriously Mulder, the history dates back further 
than that." Byers continued. "It's believed that the 
Egyptians and Mayans used something similar to 
electroplate gold.  There have been many discoveries of 
ancient batteries that would have supplied the electric 
current.  All I'm saying is that what you have here is 
something using that theory but in a much more 
powerful sense."

"When you combine hydrogen and oxygen you get an 
explosion, remember the Hindenburg?" Scully asked.

"That's the thing; it took years for Brown to figure out 
how to combine the gases to prevent that.  What he 
eventually discovered was that by combining them in 
the exact same proportions as they are found in water 
you get an implosion not an explosion.  Add a little 
flame to it and you get something similar to a welder's 
torch." 

Scully was intrigued.  "So how does this produce an 
energy source?"

"There's the mystery, Agent Scully.  Nobody knows for 
certain.  It has something to do with how the 
combination reacts with the material it's being used on.  
The Chinese actually used a similar generator in their 
submarines to dispose of nuclear waste because of the 
gas's ability to detoxify it.  The possibilities would be 
endless if we could understand the chemistry."

"Do those diagrams help you understand the 
chemistry?" Mulder asked.

Langly, who'd been sitting at one of the workstations 
suddenly jumped away from it as movement caught his 
eye. "Hey! Watch out!"  Both Mulder and Scully turned
as Langly cried out.  He'd been working on the artifact, 
attempting to decode the writings on it when it had 
suddenly begun to turn, rotate of its own accord, lifting 
from the table and flying across the room in the 
direction of his friends.  Byers' and Scully's natural 
reaction was to duck, it sailed right over Frohike and 
they all watched as Mulder stabbed it like a line drive.

"Mulder!"  Scully voice pierced the silence. 

He looked up at the sound of her voice, caught her face 
alarmed with fear, at the look of astonishment on the 
faces of his three friends and then they all faded from 
his vision.  He now found himself in the midst of chaos.  
Hundreds of people, but not human, running and 
screaming as heat and smoke consumed them; a world, 
much like our own, dying in an instant.  And then he 
was somewhere else, another world.  Grays, as he'd 
fondly always called them, their eyes even larger than 
he thought possible, their long slender finger tips 
pressed against a glass, gripping it in some attempt to 
reach out to a world they would never see again. 

More visions passed through his mind.  Other worlds, 
light years from here all being consumed by a force 
their inhabitants could not fight; something greater than 
them, something greater than he.  It was he realized the 
natural, universal force of the cosmos that had lasted 
since creation and would continue for all time. A force 
that made this fight he and Scully had been consumed 
in feel suddenly silly and absurd. 

Mulder's heart pounded in his chest.  Was this earth's 
future he was witnessing?  What possible recourse 
could any of them have?  From somewhere he heard a 
familiar voice, felt the touch of a warm hand on his 
trying desperately to bring him back.

The visions continued.  The earth, he recognized; as 
seen from above. Flashes of stone temples, monolithic 
statues, laid out in patterns across the landscapes; 
artwork etched in the plains, reminders of a civilization 
the world knew little about, left as a warning.  Voices 
now filled his head, ancient languages he didn't 
recognize but understood.  Whispering to him of 
voyages across the vastness of the universe, of finding 
a new home on a small green planet, and using a highly 
technical knowledge to influence the peoples they found 
there. His head was filled with a consciousness of the 
ages, voices of the past whispering to him a warning for 
the future.

The images changed again, to driving rains, torrents 
that swelled rivers and oceans consuming the entire 
planet in an endless sea and washing away the 
evidence of these mysterious visitors. He found himself 
panting for breath, unable to suck enough air into his 
lungs it made him dizzy.  Then a voice came again, a 
familiar one, warm and reassuring, "Mulder..."

"Do you want me to call 911?"  Another voice, familiar to 
his ears broke through the haze of visions. Frohike and 
the others had watched while Scully tried to reach 
Mulder.  He'd stood there frozen in place, holding the 
artifact.  His eyes glazed over, pupils dilated and 
unresponsive; his breathing erratic.

"Mulder, please, give it to me," she pleaded with him, 
her palm outstretched."

She reached to take if from him but he waved her off; 
turning it over in his hands, caressing the face with his 
fingertips. He was back now, in the present. "I'm okay," 
he whispered softly to her; moving a few steps away in 
order to read the script.  "I WILL DESTROY MEN, 
WHOM I HAVE CREATED, FROM THE FACE OF THE 
EARTH, FROM MAN EVEN TO BEASTS, FROM THE 
CREEPING THING EVEN TO THE FOWLS OF THE 
AIR, FOR IT REPLENTETH ME THAT I HAVE MADE 
THEM."

No one said a word.  Scully met Mulder's eyes, "The 
Bible, Mulder?"

"No, Scully," Mulder said, shaking his head ever so 
slightly.  "It's from them, a warning maybe," he looked 
up.  "A story passed down through the ages."

He finally handed her the tile. No, she did not believe 
this. The genesis of the human race was not alien 
despite what she knew Mulder believed.  But what if 
there had been alien intervention somewhere along the 
way?  This virus they'd chased across the world, could it 
possibly be evidence of an ancient civilization...a far 
more advance civilization that once flourished here?  
Did that explain the sudden advancements in evolution 
and technology that have yet to be explained by 
science?  More frightening yet was what if Mulder was 
right, that this artifact was somehow linked to it and 
somehow it did trigger something in his DNA, turned 
something on in him like they'd seen in Gibson?  It was 
Byers who broke the silence.

"We -- ah -- haven't been able to identify the material.  
Jesus, Mulder, you can read that?"

"A passage from The Bible," Frohike took the artifact 
from Scully.  "What would a verse from The Bible be 
doing on-on something...?"

Mulder turned around, his eyes glistened. "Something 
alien," he nodded towards Scully, "She doesn't believe it 
and yet she found evidence of it in Africa.
Religious texts from The Bible, The Koran, human 
genetic codes; the power of God himself inscribed on a 
ship that washed ashore on the Ivory Coast.  You've got 
to get in touch with Ngebe, Scully, find out where she 
got the piece she sent you.  Maybe she knew how it 
would affect me.  The falatus came from that artifact; I'm 
not cruvus about this." He stood there while four pairs of 
eyes looked at him like he'd grown another head.  
"What?"

"What did you say?"

"I said the ability came from the artifact.  I know I'm not 
wrong about it."

Scully shook her head wearily.  "No, that's not what you 
said the first time.  You said something like 'the falatus 
came from the artifact...'

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know, you said it!"

Frohike was hacking away at one of the computers, "It's 
similar to Medieval Latin. You take Latin in school 
Mulder?"

"NO, I did not take Latin in school!" he swiped angrily at 
his eyes, destroying the evidence of just how upset he 
was becoming over this.  "Look, are you guys gonna 
help me here or not?"

"Hey," Frohike approached his friend.  "Just tell us 
what's going on, what you need, man." 

Mulder's eyes flashed to Scully.  "I'm not real sure I'm 
Fox Mulder anymore."


1:15 P.M.


Mulder had explained what he'd seen in his earlier 
visions; in the hospital, at home, the terrifying escape 
he'd experienced on the track.  How he'd felt himself 
become a part of them. How he was sure the first one 
had something to do with the Mayans and that in the 
second he had found himself in ancient Egypt.  He had 
no recollection of where he was in this last one but had 
proceeded to draw a map of a landmass that Byers was 
now studying along with all the other drawings and 
calculations Mulder had been working on the past few 
days.

Langly and Frohike had gone off to another workstation 
to go over the PCR results and scans that Scully had 
brought from the hospital. The four of them had been so 
busy that none of them had noticed that Mulder had 
plopped himself on the couch in exhaustion and 
eventually drifted off to sleep.


**

Around him lay the ruins of a ravaged civilization he 
recognized all too well.  Monuments he'd passed 
everyday, buildings whose purpose now seemed 
incidental. Visions of the world he knew that suddenly 
seemed to be no more.  But it was not the desolate 
wasteland he had assumed it would be.  Instead it was 
alive, green and filled with the voices of the future; 
people, hundreds of them.  Who had picked up the 
pieces of a shattered lifestyle and rebuilt them into 
something new and different and better than before.  It 
felt peaceful here, simpler; as if the earth had been 
cleansed, the sky brighter, the water clearer, the air 
fresher.  A new world, risen from the old much like what 
he now knew had happened before.

His eye caught a movement to his left, he turned.  A 
man was standing next to him, a man he also 
recognized.  The man whose image he'd seen in a 
bathroom mirror a few days ago.  They stood there 
together watching a new life being recreated from death 
of the old.  It was that same universal force engaged in 
it's never ending cycle. The man said nothing to Mulder 
but somehow an understanding grew in his mind; an 
understanding that he'd just been given a sneak peak at 
the future and a very real message of hope.


**


"This is a map of Antarctica," Byers said turning to 
Scully who had been sitting with him. 

"How can that be?" She felt a sudden chill.  "What 
Mulder described sounded almost Mediterranean.  Why 
would he be drawing that? Antarctica is a frozen 
wasteland."

"That might not have always been the case.  Do you 
know what earth-crust displacement is?" 

"The theory that the earth's crust is in constant 
movement?"

"It's much more than a theory.  Every time you have an 
earthquake, it's an example of displacement.  There is 
however, a theory that at one point in the earth's history 
Antarctica was much warmer that it is today.  That at 
one point parts of the continent were located some 
2,000 or so miles further north, outside the Antarctic 
Circle in a more temperate climatic zone. Ever hear of 
the Piri Reis Map?"

"An ancient map of the globe?"

"An extremely accurate map, here look at this," Byers 
clicked into a website that brought up the map he had 
been referring too.  When he and Scully compared the 
map to the one Mulder had drawn they found them 
alarmingly similar.  "Reis was a sixteenth century 
Turkish sailor and the author of a sailing book filled with 
comprehensive descriptions of land masses, ports and 
harbors of the Mediterranean.  His source maps were 
probably housed in the Imperial Library at
Constantinople and may have originally come from the 
Library at Alexandria."

"How would such a library contain maps of Antarctica?"

"Better yet look at this," Byers acknowledged.  Clicking 
into yet another website, he continued, "This is a current 
geological survey map of the Antarctic continent under 
the ice. When I transpose them all together..."  Scully 
watched as the three maps came together in an almost 
identical fashion.  "There were no geological surveys of 
the planet in the sixteenth century Scully, as far as we 
know the people of the Mediterranean didn't even know 
Antarctica existed, let alone how to map it.  Only 
someone with an aerial view of the planet would be able 
to map this so accurately."

"I don't understand how this relates to the vision Mulder 
had."

"Maybe it's where he was in the vision."

"Hey, Agent Scully, you should take a look at this."  
Langly called from across the room.  She and Byers 
came over to look at the images displayed on the 
screens in front of the two men.  "These are the PCR 
scans of Gibson you brought us a few years back," 
Langly pointed to the right screen.  "And these are
Mulder's," Frohike said pointing to the other screen. 
"You can see the similarities in the areas we highlighted.  
We all know by looking at this older scan of Mulder's 
that these anomalies didn't exist a few years ago.  "You 
said that Mulder had been exposed to a virus years ago. 
Viruses are known to leave markers in DNA, you've 
heard of gene therapy..."  She looked at him in disbelief, 
he sighed. "Well, then you explain it."

"I can't explain it! I was also exposed to a virus guys 
and I'm not experiencing any of these visions."

"You know we all assumed that Gibson had been born 
with his abilities but this indicates that it's possible to 
literally turn genes on with the right stimulus.  What we 
see here are active genetic remnants, genes that 
science will tell you there is no explanation for."

"Maybe because we have no use for them anymore?" 
Scully questioned her mind suddenly drifting back to 
what Mulder had said in their office about us losing the 
ability to understand the words of our ancestors.

"Sadly, you're probably right.  As we've advance 
technologically, we find we no longer need our instincts 
to guide us.  Look at all those people who perished in 
Asia and yet the animals had the good sense to run for 
higher ground."  Langly was not amused.  "Millions are 
spent each year on warning systems set up to warn us 
of danger because it seems we no longer have the 
ability to sense it. We've lost touch with the earth 
around us because we sit inside watching television 
instead of watching the sunset."  


"You should talk." Frohike quipped.

"Hey, I didn't say I wasn't just as guilty as the next 
person but it's the truth.  Mulder's afraid he's become 
some sort of super human when maybe all he really is, 
is more human than the rest of us."

"But why me, what are these visions trying to tell me?"

They all turned at the sound of Mulder's voice.  He'd 
been so quiet they'd almost forgotten he was there.  He 
didn't move to get up from the couch; he just continued 
to sit there slumped against the back cushion with his 
legs spread, his mind still reeling from his latest dream.  
"If we're to assume that this artifact came from the same 
ship as the rubbing and it's some sort of key to 
unlocking human potential then what is the likelihood 
that Ngebe would find the piece that was meant for 
me?"

"I'd have to say highly unlikely Mulder."

"Have you been able to reach her?" Mulder asked, 
getting up to get a closer look at what they'd all been 
working on.

"I called the university, she no longer teaches there," 
Scully answered.

"So the answer to that question is, no."

"No, I have not been able to reach her."  Scully's reply 
was curt.

"I think we might have an answer to your question 
though Mulder," Byers motioned for him to join him at 
his computer.

"This man you saw in the mirror, the pale figure with the 
white beard?" Byers questioned.  "Legends of the 
Andes people describe a similar figure.  He has different 
names in different places but he's always recognized as 
the same figure, a tall bearded pale skin man wrapped 
in a cloak of secrecy.  Viracocha, Foam of the Sea, a 
master of science and magic who wielded terrible 
weapons and who came in a time of chaos to set things 
right with the world."
Byers clicked a command into his computer and the 
image Mulder had seen in the hospital appeared on the 
screen.  "As the legend goes he appeared when the 
world had been inundated by a great flood and plunged 
into darkness; society falling into ruin and disorder.  
With his powers he created hills and valleys of lush 
earth from the destruction and taught the people how to 
live with love and harmony."

"Similar legends exist in other cultures," Frohike took up 
the narrative.  "Quetzalcoatl is the Mayan equivalent; 
he's credited with the invention of the advanced 
mathematical and calendrical formula that the Maya 
used to create their calendar of doom.  Similar I might 
add to what you used to calculate the very same date, 
2,012.  There's Kon Tiki and Isis and Osiris; Native 
Americans speak of the White Buffalo Woman, even 
Christ can be seen as this figure.

A quick search or mythology from around the world 
reveals other striking similarities.  Legends from 
different peoples all living in different corners of
the earth seem to tell the same essential story-that 
somewhere in humanity's past certain individuals with 
godlike powers were responsible for shaping mankind 
into a civilized state."

"Wait a minute," Mulder turned to Frohike in shock at 
what he assumed his friend was referring to.  "I don't 
have any godlike powers and I'm certainly not the 
reincarnation of Jesus Christ!"

"Hey, easy man," Langly patted his friend on the 
shoulder and walked around to face him.  "For a long 
time these stories have been dismissed as myth but 
with the advances in geology and archeology 
researchers are starting to realize that there is a lot of 
truths in the ancient myths.  Evidence is coming to light 
of the possible existence of a highly advance civilization 
that once flourished here on earth.  You know the story 
of Atlantis, right, the mysterious continent whose 
civilization was swallowed by the sea?  There are a lot 
of similarities in the Mayan and Egyptian cultures 
leading to a very popular theory that these people are 
the descendents of Atlanteans."

"It's a story, Langly, a myth." Mulder said with disgust, 
he stepped a few feet away and then turned around.  
"There's no evidence that Atlantis has ever existed.  If, 
as you're suggesting, this highly advance civilization 
lived on this mythical continent; how is it possible for 
them to disappear so thoroughly that even with our 
modern scientific knowledge we can't say for certain 
that they ever existed?"

"You're not listening, Mulder."  Byers came over and 
gently steered Mulder to a stool and made him sit on it. 
"Maybe they just haven't found it yet.  The Bible is filled 
with myth.  Do you know that the story of Noah, the 
great flood, exists in almost every culture on the globe? 
It predates The Bible.  Natives believe that the earth 
has passed through different 'worlds' in its history.  Hopi 
myth tells us that the first world was destroyed as a 
punishment for human misdemeanors by an all-
consuming fire. The second by ice and the third world 
ended in a universal flood, that very same Noah story.  
They believe the fate of the present world depends on 
how the people behave in accordance to the Creator's 
wishes.

There is other evidence, a lot of it; written in the codes 
of ancient civilizations all over the world, codes which 
are only now slowly coming to light.  Discoveries in 
archeology have found that many sacred sites across 
the globe like Stonehenge, the Great Pyramid and other 
mystical structures scattered across the globe might 
have been built to preserve and transmit the knowledge 
of an advance civilization.  Some have even suggested 
these sites are a warning system left behind for future 
reference if we could only figure out how to use them."

"Listen to this."  Frohike added as he watched Mulder 
roll his eyes.  The guys were on a roll and all he and 
Scully could do was listen as they continued to weave 
their tale.  "Egyptologists continue to insist the Great 
Pyramid was built as a tomb but just about any 
archeologist will tell you now that it is a lot older than 
originally perceived and that no pharaoh was ever 
buried in it.  It's an incredibly sophisticated design.  
Each of its four sides aligns almost perfectly with points 
on a compass.  The height is proportional to the radius 
of the earth and its perimeter to the circumference.  
Measurements of its base halves yield the numbers 
365.256 and 365.259, the number of days it takes for 
the earth to orbit the sun.  Back in 1957 satellite 
technology was able to establish that the polar radius of 
the earth was something like 150,265,030.4 inches.  
One ten-millionth of this distance would be roughly 
25,026 inches.  This exact measurement is found at 
least three times within the pyramid.  The number 
25,000 also happens to approximate the number of 
years in the processional cycle, the time it takes for the 
earth to pass through the twelve zodiacal constellations.  
And here's one more mystery for you.  This 25,000-year 
measurement is the most complex measurement we 
know.  It's been shown that the shafts if the Great 
Pyramid align perfectly with key stars of the Zodiac at 
major changes in the houses of the Zodiac, like when 
the earth passes from one sign to the next along the 
line of procession.  When you look at star charts from 
the age of the last global catastrophe, they are 
alarmingly similar to the charts you will see in the year 
2,012.  Mulder has them all printed out.  Somehow, who 
ever built the Great Pyramid was able to calculate this, 
align these shafts so that they and the Zodiac would 
come into alignment in much the same way once 
again."

"Procession of the Zodiac?" Scully asked. Mulder had 
mentioned this in his own explanation of what he'd been 
working on, she, needed some clarification.

"Here..." Frohike grabbed some of the papers from the 
table Mulder was sitting at and handed them to Mulder.  
"Mulder calculated it himself.  Basically the 
constellations of the Zodiac form a ring around the solar 
system.  Each year on the Spring Equinox the sun rises 
within a particular constellation.  Right now, it's Pisces.  
This goes on for around 2,000 or so years and then the 
earth processes into the next constellation, this being 
Aquarius.  I know that sounds backwards, but trust me 
on this.  It's called Procession, it takes about 25,000 
years for the earth to pass though all twelve signs of the 
zodiac and what's remarkable is many of the ancient 
civilizations were able to calculate it long before modern 
day astronomers ever figured it out."

"It's a clock."  They all turned to Mulder who had been 
studying the calculations.

"What's a clock?" Langly asked.

"The Great Pyramid, a doomsday clock."

"Ticking down to what?"

"You saw what happened in Asia, the terrible tsunami; it 
was caused by a violent quake beneath the ocean," 
Frohike said. "Imagine if that happened on a global 
scale. Geologists believe we're on the verge of some 
violent changes in the earth, a cataclysmic destruction 
of the world as we know it.  Numbers are a universal 
language.  If these calculations Mulder has worked out 
are some kind of code, a way to determine the exact 
date and moment of this catastrophe, think of the lives 
that could be saved."

"December, 2,012," Mulder looked up at his audience, 
"The beginning of a new age, the age of Aquarius."  
Three pairs of eyes seemed to believe him, the fourth, 
those piercing blue ones, the only ones he had faith in, 
did not.

"You all weave a clever story of gloom and doom here 
but how does this all fit in with Mulder?"

"I think he already knows."  Frohike motioned with his 
head towards Mulder who had stepped off the stool to 
reach over and pick up the artifact again. "And I saw a 
new heaven and a new earth.  For the first heaven and 
the first earth was gone, and the sea is now no more.  
They're right Scully.  The earth is covered with clues to 
our past, the answers to where we've been and where 
we're going aren't going to be found in the science of 
the future.  You said it yourself, the answers are there, 
you just have to know where to look.

I don't know if we'll ever know who our progenitors were 
or what happened to them, but a whole legacy of their 
knowledge has been left for you to find.  You have the 
key now," Mulder hefted the artifact.  "That's why Ngebe 
sent this to you, I'm your key." 


She stood there looking at him, the boyish enthusiasm 
he'd always possessed clearly evident in his eyes.  Was 
this truly his destiny?  To be some conduit to the past 
that would guide them to the future?  She walked slowly 
over to where he stood, wrapping her hand around his 
wrist to find the pulse point and the evidence of his 
excitement that she found there.  He knew exactly what 
she was doing; she could see it on his face.  "Mulder, 
listen to yourself, even if this were true, how do we 
possibly find this information, how do you prove that this 
knowledge of yours actually allows you to understand 
any of it if we did?"

He pulled his hand from her grasp and flashed the 
artifact in her face.  "You've got to believe it, Scully. Nou 
ani anquietas. Ego indeo navo locas hic qua videum.  
You just won't give up on this proof thing of yours will 
you?  I've been fighting this battle with you since I've 
known you.  You can accept the idea that God exists 
without question but suggest that maybe we weren't first 
on his list and you need a room full of evidence. We'll 
here's your evidence
Scully, it's staring you right in the face!"  He put the 
artifact in her hand and then turned and walked to the 
door, letting himself out as they all stood silently and 
watched.

She stood there for a few minutes looking at the piece 
of tile.  The truth was she did believe where it had come 
from.  It was believing in how it had affected him that 
frightened her most.  

"We are the ancients."  Byers had been typing as 
Mulder spoke, "Looking for a new location for our 
legacy."

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

"No," she shook her head with a small smile at his 
concern.

"For what it's worth Dana," Byers came over to stand 
beside her.  "There's a lot of truth in what he's related to 
you.  The things he's seen, the theories. The world is 
filled with mysteries Scully.  Thousands of books have 
been written on the subject.  The research continues.  
Through it we've come to realize that early man was a 
lot more advance than we ever imagined he could have 
been.  Proof?  Maybe you only need to prove something 
if it's first been disproved elsewhere."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read, John."

"No, but you should believe in him." 

"I do, I wish he understood that.  I'm just afraid to 
believe it could be true.   I'm afraid of what this ability 
could do to him."

Langly came over and took the artifact from her.  "He 
seems okay now. It doesn't seem to be affecting him 
anymore."

"Yeah, maybe it's already worked its alien magic," 
Frohike made a vain attempt to lighten her mood.

"Mulder is NOT an alien, Melvin."

"You know what one of the definitions of the word alien 
is?" Byers asked.  "Unlike one's own, different.  I think 
that describes Mulder pretty well. I want to read you 
something."  He leaned over and picked up some of 
Mulder's papers from the table, shuffling through them 
until he found the one he was looking for.  "I am the 
Highest of All, the First, the Creator of Heaven and 
Earth; I am the molder of the human bodies, and the 
supplier of the Spiritual Parts.  I have placed the sun 
upon a new horizon as a sign of benevolence and proof 
of the Alliance.  In order to do so, the Commandments 
of the Creator, verified by the
Highest of All, were, acting via the Souls of the 
Ancestors, transmitted to the Youngest Ones."

Frohike looked at Scully's puzzled features. "It's a 
translation from the Egyptian BOOK OF THE DEAD; the 
passage of knowledge from something far greater than 
us.  Ancient rites and wisdom coded in secrecy and 
passed down through ancestral lines to a new place for 
the legacy.  History is filled with these inventive and 
insightful individuals who are responsible for some of 
the greatest leaps in our development.  Mulder 
understands this Scully though why he's been selected 
remains a mystery.

Why indeed. "Dammit Frohike, the Rosetta stone has 
enabled the translation of hieroglyphs for years."  Scully 
was not going to buy this sales pitch the guys had taken 
up in Mulder's cause.

"You're right," Byers acknowledged.  "But most of the 
time the translations are so filled with flagrant errors and 
misinterpretations that nothing is left of the initial 
meaning.  To be able to understand their true meaning, 
to interpret the messages that have been left for us as 
Mulder believes he is able to do is a gift Scully; a gift 
that maybe we should just accept without question.

"Oh God, John, if only it were that easy."

"Well whatever has him reciting ancient scripture I don't 
think it's something you want to broadcast to the world.  
Somebody might lock him up and not because they 
think he's crazy."  Frohike walked back over to the table 
he and Langly had been working at and picked up an 
envelope which he proceeded to hand to Scully.
"You said someone took his old test records.  You 
better make damn sure they don't get a hold of these."



MULDER'S TOWNHOUSE


Scully finished putting away the dishes and turned the 
lights off in the kitchen.  Mulder had been sitting in the 
car when she had left the Gunmen's' and they had 
driven home in silence.  They'd engaged in some off 
topic conversation over dinner and then he'd 
disappeared.  She was still worried about him.  How 
would she convince him to seek medical help if these 
dreams of his continued?  Would he even tell her if they 
did? Langly was right, he'd seemed fine when he left 
their office.  Could this nightmare finally be over?  She 
found Mulder stretched out on the couch in the living 
room with a book of mythology propped on his lap.  She 
smiled and walked over to him. "Find any answers?"

Mulder put the book down, looked up to meet her eyes. 
"You still think I'm nuts don't you?"

"Actually I'd prefer that you were because it scares me 
to death that you're not."  She sat down next to him as 
Mulder moved his legs over to make more room.

"All that gloom and doom stuff?"

"I believe in you Mulder, I always have.  I want you to 
know that even though I don't know if I can believe what 
you've been trying to tell me. Visions of the past, 
ancient astronauts, the end of the world; two thousand, 
twelve, Mulder, that's only seven years away.  It's safer 
not to believe any of it. Even if the answers are here 
and by some miracle we could find them do you 
honestly think that you and I can could convince a world 
of non-believers in their authenticity?"

The truth was sometimes an ugly thing, especially when 
you thought you knew what it was. "No, probably not; 
they'd lock me up faster than your doctor friend was 
threatening to do.  But I think with the right information 
your science could.  It's all about finding the future 
Scully before the future finds us. Oo ya wolin wolin we 
tayil" Mulder watched her freeze and then he smiled.  
"That's Mayan, says it right here, the enemy of my 
enemy is my friend."  He closed the book and let it drop 
to the floor beside them, reaching up to pull her close. 
She settled in next to him and he wrapped his arms 
around her.  "Would it help if I told you that even though 
the signs might point to the end of the world as we know 
it, the next one will be a much better place?"  She didn't 
look convinced.  "Maybe we should have paid a little 
more attention to all that harmonic philosophy your 
sister used to try and pass off on us."

Scully smiled into his shoulder, "She liked you Mulder."

He hugged her closer.  "I'm sorry I didn't get to know her.  
Now that I think about it, we had a lot in common."

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"Promise me I won't lose you to these ancients?"

"You mean if I find myself reliving ancient history again 
I'll let you know?"

He felt her shiver in his embrace.  She clutched at his 
shirt.  "I'm not kidding. That if you feel yourself slipping 
away again you'll let me help you hold on?  If seven 
years is all we have, if it's all the time I have left to 
spend with you I don't want to think about living them 
without you."

He cuddled her closer and kissed her gently. "Then 
don't think about it, Scully. Carpe Diem"

"Seize the day?"

"Every minute of it."


AUTHORS NOTES:  This story is purely fiction.  Not 
being a scientist or anything remotely close, you'll have 
to accept my artistic license and conjecture.
There are a few facts thrown in for your enjoyment and 
to get you thinking.  I remember a television series that 
was very good at that. If you'd like to explore some of 
the ideas put forth here, take a trip down the New Age 
aisle of your local bookstore; you'd be amazed what you 
might find there.  Reading about some of the earth's 
mysteries I've come to the conclusion that there truly 
are more worlds than the one you can hold in your hand.

Special thanks to all my ebuddies out there, Chris for 
her constant poking, Vickie for her help, encouragement 
and some great ideas and to Chuck for his beta help; 
couldn't do this without you.

And yes, there is a quote from Star Trek in here 
somewhere.