Artifacts
"What are we doing here?" Scully, for once, was not dubious, but confused.
"Recently a construction crew in England uncovered a cache of ancient swords," Mulder explained as they walked into the Smithsonian, "and when I say 'ancient', I don't mean like these pre-Roman Johnny-come-latelies. I mean 'ancient'."
"What, like swords from the indigenous tribes of Briton? That's hardly news, Mulder," Scully pointed out. "Man has made rudimentary weapons since he first figured out how to sharpen a stick. What's so interesting about this particular cache of swords?"
They stopped to show their ID badges to the guard, and were ushered into the back halls of the museum.
"I'm glad you asked, Scully," Mulder said with that slightly manic grin he was apt to wear when relaying some bit of esoteric knowledge. "These swords have been carbon-dated as having been forged well before the first century, using techniques that couldn't possibly have been in usage at that time. Yet all of them are comparable in make and quality to swords made by the greatest Spanish swordmakers hundreds of years later. One of them even appears to have been broken and reforged at some point during its lifetime, if you can believe it."
"What would be the point in that?" Scully wanted to know. "A sword that was broken would be much weaker when reforged, wouldn't it? It wouldn't be of much use as a weapon."
Mulder shrugged, reading the numbers above the doors. "You would think that would be the case -- but they've done some tests and found that this particular sword is stronger than it has any right to be; is, in fact, stronger than any sword these guys have ever seen. And there are texts which refer to the Sword That Was Broken," Scully could hear the capital letters, "although of course it's been widely considered a myth by stodgy -- I mean, reputable historians. "
Scully sighed. "That's all very interesting, Mulder, if extremely unlikely. But why are we here? It's got nothing to do with any case we're currently working on."
"Consider it free-lance X-Filing," Mulder grinned, and pushed open the door they had stopped in front of. Not for the first time, Scully wondered how much more normal her life would be if she'd gotten anyone else as a partner.
The lab technician was more than happy to show them his precious artifacts, and Scully had to admit that the swords were gorgeous. Mulder began throwing all sorts of complicated questions at the tech, while she listened half-heartedly and examined the swords. "They all have some sort of writing on the blades," she pointed out, tracing the lettering with her finger. "What language is this?"
"Don't touch the blade," the tech yelped, and Scully jerked back. "And we don't know. No-one's been able to figure out one single word -- it's got nothing in common with any known language. The guys downstairs are tearing their hair out."
The script was beautiful, almost sensuous in its flowing lines. She threw a frown at Mulder as the word "alien" drifted through her mind.
An object on another table caught her eye, and she went to get a closer look. It was a sphere made of some sort of glass, or perhaps crystal, about the same size and shape as a globe of the world. The material it was made of had obviously been clear at some point, but now it was cloudy. It was not all that unusual to look at -- it was the kind of knick-knack that someone with too much money and stock in Sharper Image might buy -- but something about it fascinated her. For an instant, Scully thought she saw swirling movement within, which was ridiculous.
"What's this?" Scully asked, running her palm over the sphere's curves.
Fire. Searing pain. Regret. Madness. Blistered flesh. Screaming, echoing in her skull, sending her vision red for a moment. She tried to pull her hand back, but could not.
Then she was back in the laboratory, blinking dazedly at Mulder's face. He was holding her wrist. "What happened?" he asked concerned. "You went white."
"Um…nothing," Scully lied, shaken. "It's just -- awfully hot in here."
"Yeah, sorry, should have told you," said the tech as he looked up from the swords. "We've all learned the hard way not to touch that without gloves." Something lit in his eyes, something that made Scully very uneasy, though she couldn't say why. "A little unnerving, isn't it?"
Scully glared at the tech, then looked at Mulder. "Call me when you're done," she said as he released her. "I'm going to the Air and Space Museum."
That night Scully dreamed of a city beneath the sea, and an eye wreathed in flame.