Conference Room
7:09 am
* * * * * *
A single event can awaken within us a stranger
totally unknown to us.--Antoine de Saint-Exupery
* * * * * *
Dagen set the large stack of papers down. They sat precariously on the
table in the spacious conference room. He was gathering the evidence so
that the agents could look at it during the presentation. He happened to
glance down to the paper on the top of the stack. It was a copy of a
gene sequence from that Praise boy. The sequence that had started it
all...
He sighed as he set the paper down. Who would have thought that there
was such a thing as too much success? Surely not him ten years ago when
they had recruited him right out of grad school. He had been the 'golden
boy,' hand picked by Dr. Eugene Mitchell, project head. Even though he
had been young, he had been the leader of the research team that had
developed new methods for gene splicing.
The offers that had come in after that study had been published...
Sometimes, too often, he wondered what would have happened if he had
followed his mother's advice and taken that nice steady job at that
pharmaceutical company, instead of taking the offer that paid the most.
He could be developing the cure for cancer instead of...
What would have happened? How much better would the world be if he'd
just followed that advice? He picked up another paper. This one had a
section of Scully's genes. Her *new* genes. Well, he knew how much
better off Scully would be.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. God, he was only 31 years
old, and all he wished was that he had become a failure.
"So how are our guests doing?"
Dagen's eyes had still been closed so he had not seen the man enter. The
unexpected noise startled him and had sent the stacked papers fluttering
to the ground. He bent at the waist and began picking up the papers as
he replied to Krycek's inquiry. "About as well as we hoped. I believe
that Mulder has recovered. Ed has just gone to get them."
"So you've spoken with Ed?"
"Yes."
"What are you doing now?" Krycek casually leaned over the table and
peered down on Dagen, who was hunched over the floor, trying to shuffle
the papers back into some semblance of order.
"I need to gather some of the evidence so that we can present it to them
as we tell them the story."
"Ah, the story...the explanation for everything, right? In the
beginning...'God created man in his own image'...He took a rather
circuitous route of doing that, wouldn't you say?" He looked at Dagen.
Dagen had only been half listening to Krycek. "He?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Or She if you prefer, or maybe It? Who am I
to say what God is? I can't wait to see their faces as the story
unfolds. I'm sure that it will be priceless."
Dagen finally stood and set the papers down, this time in smaller
stacks. "You won't be here."
"Oh why not?" Krycek looked genuinely disappointed, even though his tone
was light.
Dagen met his eyes. "They loathe you. You'd only be a distraction."
Krycek snorted with disbelief. "And you won't? Once you spill your news
you think that you will be their best friend?"
"Look, what I did, what I was part of...it wasn't supposed to be like
that. I didn't mean--"
"You didn't mean for this to happen? This isn't something that you just
stumbled on." He strode over to the pile of documents sitting on the
table. He picked up a fat stack with his hand and waved the papers under
Dagen's face. "This sure doesn't look like you stumbled over this
treatment. How many months did it take you until you were able to
isolate the specific gene in the boy? Huh? I'm sure that there was a
moment or two where you could have thought about the possible
consequences of your experiments." He slammed the stack back down on the
table. "What the hell did you think they were going to do with the
information? They weren't shelling out the big bucks just so you could
play with you chemistry set. And--"
"Shut up." Dagen interrupted Krycek's tirade. "I don't need a lecture on
ethics or morals, and certainly not from you."
"Are you implying something, Dagen?" He said this with a smirk.
Krycek's smugness was insufferable, but Dagen refused to act angry or
upset, which would have pleased him immensely. Instead, he kept his
features expressionless and his voice cool. He ignored Krycek's comment;
instead he just said, "Get out."
"You know, I don't understand where all of this hostility is coming
from. You should be thanking me, not cursing me. I brought you into
this. Now you have the chance to try to make things right. This is your
shot at redemption. You should be thanking me."
"Thanks. Now get the hell out of here."
"Only because you asked so nicely..." And with that last comment, Krycek
left.
Dagen sat heavily in one of the chairs at the table. He brought his
hands up to his head, cradling each side of his face. His head was
beginning to pound.
* * * * * *
Mulder's Room
7:15 am
Scully had somehow managed to fall asleep, even though the chair she sat
on was immensely uncomfortable and her nerves fried to the point of
blistering. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion from maintaining her sanity
in this strange and awful universe she had fallen into, that had allowed
her to rest.
She was cold, but she was powerless to find some way to cover herself.
Her limbs didn't respond to her commands. Her teeth wanted to chatter,
but her jaw did not respond. She was flat on her back, that she was
sure of, but other than that, she couldn't be sure of anything.
She tried to open her eyes, but could not. They were frozen shut.
Yes, frozen. She was frozen solid. The cold seeped into her bones and
she wanted to shiver, she wanted to shiver so badly, anything to try to
shake the chill off, but she could not.
And she just lay there.
Then suddenly she could see, even though her eyes remained shut, but
this did not surprise her.
She blinked, or seemed to, even though her eyes remained closed. Bright
light shined in her eyes. But she didn't want to close them. She was
afraid of the dark.
Incredibly bright light. A light that should have hurt her eyes, but it
did not.
She stared into the light, not quite sure what she was looking at. It
was familiar. Yes very familiar. It was the sun. Yes it was the sun.
Was she outside now?
That must be it. That made sense. She could see the blue sky surrounding
the bright circle above. How had she missed that before?
She wasn't cold now, either. The radiant sun was lending its warmth to
her, and she was beginning to thaw. She could turn her head now; open
her eyes for real.
Turning her head to the side, Scully was able see more of her
surroundings. She was in a clearing in the center of a forest. She lay
on a luxurious bed of grass. She could feel the grass's gentle tickling
against her cheek and wished she could run her fingers through it.
She couldn't do it then, the rest of her body remained immobilized, but
she could feel the delightful pin prickling sensations that foretold
returning movement. She waited impatiently.
Scully felt as if time was running out.
Scully was thawing in degrees. She looked down to her hands folded
neatly on her abdomen. She could move her fingers now, and they waited
restlessly for her arms to catch up.
Seconds or minutes later, she couldn't be sure, her arms were freed. Her
fingers dug into the thick grass as she raised herself up into a sitting
position. Her legs remained numb, and as she waited, a delicate
butterfly lightly fluttered into view. The insect hovered near her face,
and Scully shifted her weight onto her left arm so that she could bring
her right hand up.
Scully extended her index finger and to her surprise and delight the
butterfly landed, and sat perched on her fingertip. The multicolored
wings beat gently. The wings were nearly transparent in the intense
light, and she could see the fragile veins that coursed through the
wings.
A shadow suddenly fell across her hand. The butterfly, sensing a danger
before Scully, made its departure. Before she could turn to see who had
approached, Scully felt hands grip her shoulders, and with great force,
she was driven back into the grass.
Except it wasn't grass any longer.
It was a table. A hard, cold, metal table. And she was beginning to
freeze again.
"NO!" She tried to scream, but her lips and tongue were already
incapacitated. But she struggled anyway. She didn't want to be here, on
this table, in this cold white room. She had been here too many times
already.
Scully felt a hand stroke her forehead, and even though the only thing
that now remained thawed was her eyelids, the hand felt incredibly cold,
cold as one of the bodies found in autopsy bays, colder than her own
frozen skin.
She rolled her eyes back to try to gain a glimpse at her companion and
then wished she hadn't. A scream tried to claw its way from her vocal
cords, but became strangled in her paralyzed throat.
Scully was looking at herself, but it wasn't her, couldn't be. The head
was too bulbous, skin too pasty, eyes too vacant. "Please God", she
prayed, "please don't let this be me." But it was her. The second it
began to speak she knew.
"It's ok Dana. Everything will be ok. I know that you're scared now, but
it'll all work out for the best. I know what's best for you, for us.
Trust me... It is so much better feeling nothing. So much better than
being afraid..."
Scully couldn't talk, couldn't move. She tried begging to her alter ego
with her eyes, to no avail. The other her just ran her hand over
Scully's forehead again. "I told you, don't worry. You'll like having
all of the pain, and fear, and worry gone." She pulled a light to the
table, and placed it directly over Scully's head. As much as Scully
wanted to look away, her paralyzed body could not let her. But it wasn't
a real light; no it was something much worse. It was indicative of an
outer darkness; it was only mere reflective light
"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit. And soon you'll be just like me."
* * * * * *
Her own scream woke her. Scully went from sleep to wakefulness with a
painful jolt and she sat up straight in her chair, heart pounding, mouth
dry. Realization swept over her: There was a presence in the room.
The after images of her dream remained and it took several seconds
before she realized that the thin being that stood in front of her was
no and alien, but in fact a man. A tall, thin man with a graying beard,
leathery skin from too many years in the merciless sun. The lines of his
face spoke of wide grins and a gentleness that could only have been
etched over decades. He had one hand on his chest, and on his face he
wore a look of surprise mixed with concern. It seemed that she wasn't
the only one startled by her cry.
"Are you ok?" He asked, concerned. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. That
wasn't my intention."
"No, it wasn't you, but something else. It was I who startled you. I'm
sorry." She stood, and straightened her disheveled clothing.
"I was coming to wake you both."
Walking a short distance away from the bed, she motioned for the man to
follow. She spoke quietly, trying not to disturb Mulder, although he had
already slept through her calling out. "Can you help us? We need some
questions answered and you seem to be someone that can help us."
"Yes, that is actually the reason I'm here. I've come to bring both of
you to a meeting I've set up." He paused, then laughed again holding out
his hand. "I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself yet. I'm Dr.
Bower, but you can call me Ed."
"Nice to meet you." She gripped his hand.
-Flash-
The sun... so bright above...the earth below, the innards revealing its
secrets. Men bent double over ancient pits, dusting away the secrets,
particle by particle.
-Flash-
Excitement... confusion, a realization...then-
Scully jerked away as if he struck her with a live electrical wire.
Ed looked at her, and blinked slowly. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm fine." She whispered.
Ed was talking again, but she couldn't seem to comprehend the words. She
was having after-images, after-thoughts from her contact. A tablet--no,
a mural of some kind, and the realization of what it all meant... She
mentally shook her head in an attempt to clear her head. "This has to
stop." In her mind, she visualized bricks being stacked. One on top
of the other, mortar spread thick between.
She could hear him now. Ed was mid sentence when she began listening
again.
"-- thought that it would be best to let you both have the night before
we..." He laughed nervously. "Before we deluge you with information. We
also thought it would be best to give Mulder time to finish getting
better, and to give you time to adjust to all that is happening." He
paused, and concerned laced his words. "How are you adjusting?"
"Adjusting? Can he actually be serious? Well, except for the mind
reading thing, the double abduction thing, oh and of course the toxic
green blood, things are swell."
She didn't say any of this of course, instead, she responded with her
stand-by. "I'll be fine."
Ed seemed to believe her and he turned to leave. But he then remembered
something. "I almost forgot. Across the hall, there's a bathroom where
you both can freshen up. We have some clothing for both of you as well.
I'll come back in a few minutes and then we can begin."
"Then we can begin." She agreed.
* * * * * *
7:09 am
* * * * * *
A single event can awaken within us a stranger
totally unknown to us.--Antoine de Saint-Exupery
* * * * * *
Dagen set the large stack of papers down. They sat precariously on the
table in the spacious conference room. He was gathering the evidence so
that the agents could look at it during the presentation. He happened to
glance down to the paper on the top of the stack. It was a copy of a
gene sequence from that Praise boy. The sequence that had started it
all...
He sighed as he set the paper down. Who would have thought that there
was such a thing as too much success? Surely not him ten years ago when
they had recruited him right out of grad school. He had been the 'golden
boy,' hand picked by Dr. Eugene Mitchell, project head. Even though he
had been young, he had been the leader of the research team that had
developed new methods for gene splicing.
The offers that had come in after that study had been published...
Sometimes, too often, he wondered what would have happened if he had
followed his mother's advice and taken that nice steady job at that
pharmaceutical company, instead of taking the offer that paid the most.
He could be developing the cure for cancer instead of...
What would have happened? How much better would the world be if he'd
just followed that advice? He picked up another paper. This one had a
section of Scully's genes. Her *new* genes. Well, he knew how much
better off Scully would be.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. God, he was only 31 years
old, and all he wished was that he had become a failure.
"So how are our guests doing?"
Dagen's eyes had still been closed so he had not seen the man enter. The
unexpected noise startled him and had sent the stacked papers fluttering
to the ground. He bent at the waist and began picking up the papers as
he replied to Krycek's inquiry. "About as well as we hoped. I believe
that Mulder has recovered. Ed has just gone to get them."
"So you've spoken with Ed?"
"Yes."
"What are you doing now?" Krycek casually leaned over the table and
peered down on Dagen, who was hunched over the floor, trying to shuffle
the papers back into some semblance of order.
"I need to gather some of the evidence so that we can present it to them
as we tell them the story."
"Ah, the story...the explanation for everything, right? In the
beginning...'God created man in his own image'...He took a rather
circuitous route of doing that, wouldn't you say?" He looked at Dagen.
Dagen had only been half listening to Krycek. "He?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Or She if you prefer, or maybe It? Who am I
to say what God is? I can't wait to see their faces as the story
unfolds. I'm sure that it will be priceless."
Dagen finally stood and set the papers down, this time in smaller
stacks. "You won't be here."
"Oh why not?" Krycek looked genuinely disappointed, even though his tone
was light.
Dagen met his eyes. "They loathe you. You'd only be a distraction."
Krycek snorted with disbelief. "And you won't? Once you spill your news
you think that you will be their best friend?"
"Look, what I did, what I was part of...it wasn't supposed to be like
that. I didn't mean--"
"You didn't mean for this to happen? This isn't something that you just
stumbled on." He strode over to the pile of documents sitting on the
table. He picked up a fat stack with his hand and waved the papers under
Dagen's face. "This sure doesn't look like you stumbled over this
treatment. How many months did it take you until you were able to
isolate the specific gene in the boy? Huh? I'm sure that there was a
moment or two where you could have thought about the possible
consequences of your experiments." He slammed the stack back down on the
table. "What the hell did you think they were going to do with the
information? They weren't shelling out the big bucks just so you could
play with you chemistry set. And--"
"Shut up." Dagen interrupted Krycek's tirade. "I don't need a lecture on
ethics or morals, and certainly not from you."
"Are you implying something, Dagen?" He said this with a smirk.
Krycek's smugness was insufferable, but Dagen refused to act angry or
upset, which would have pleased him immensely. Instead, he kept his
features expressionless and his voice cool. He ignored Krycek's comment;
instead he just said, "Get out."
"You know, I don't understand where all of this hostility is coming
from. You should be thanking me, not cursing me. I brought you into
this. Now you have the chance to try to make things right. This is your
shot at redemption. You should be thanking me."
"Thanks. Now get the hell out of here."
"Only because you asked so nicely..." And with that last comment, Krycek
left.
Dagen sat heavily in one of the chairs at the table. He brought his
hands up to his head, cradling each side of his face. His head was
beginning to pound.
* * * * * *
Mulder's Room
7:15 am
Scully had somehow managed to fall asleep, even though the chair she sat
on was immensely uncomfortable and her nerves fried to the point of
blistering. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion from maintaining her sanity
in this strange and awful universe she had fallen into, that had allowed
her to rest.
She was cold, but she was powerless to find some way to cover herself.
Her limbs didn't respond to her commands. Her teeth wanted to chatter,
but her jaw did not respond. She was flat on her back, that she was
sure of, but other than that, she couldn't be sure of anything.
She tried to open her eyes, but could not. They were frozen shut.
Yes, frozen. She was frozen solid. The cold seeped into her bones and
she wanted to shiver, she wanted to shiver so badly, anything to try to
shake the chill off, but she could not.
And she just lay there.
Then suddenly she could see, even though her eyes remained shut, but
this did not surprise her.
She blinked, or seemed to, even though her eyes remained closed. Bright
light shined in her eyes. But she didn't want to close them. She was
afraid of the dark.
Incredibly bright light. A light that should have hurt her eyes, but it
did not.
She stared into the light, not quite sure what she was looking at. It
was familiar. Yes very familiar. It was the sun. Yes it was the sun.
Was she outside now?
That must be it. That made sense. She could see the blue sky surrounding
the bright circle above. How had she missed that before?
She wasn't cold now, either. The radiant sun was lending its warmth to
her, and she was beginning to thaw. She could turn her head now; open
her eyes for real.
Turning her head to the side, Scully was able see more of her
surroundings. She was in a clearing in the center of a forest. She lay
on a luxurious bed of grass. She could feel the grass's gentle tickling
against her cheek and wished she could run her fingers through it.
She couldn't do it then, the rest of her body remained immobilized, but
she could feel the delightful pin prickling sensations that foretold
returning movement. She waited impatiently.
Scully felt as if time was running out.
Scully was thawing in degrees. She looked down to her hands folded
neatly on her abdomen. She could move her fingers now, and they waited
restlessly for her arms to catch up.
Seconds or minutes later, she couldn't be sure, her arms were freed. Her
fingers dug into the thick grass as she raised herself up into a sitting
position. Her legs remained numb, and as she waited, a delicate
butterfly lightly fluttered into view. The insect hovered near her face,
and Scully shifted her weight onto her left arm so that she could bring
her right hand up.
Scully extended her index finger and to her surprise and delight the
butterfly landed, and sat perched on her fingertip. The multicolored
wings beat gently. The wings were nearly transparent in the intense
light, and she could see the fragile veins that coursed through the
wings.
A shadow suddenly fell across her hand. The butterfly, sensing a danger
before Scully, made its departure. Before she could turn to see who had
approached, Scully felt hands grip her shoulders, and with great force,
she was driven back into the grass.
Except it wasn't grass any longer.
It was a table. A hard, cold, metal table. And she was beginning to
freeze again.
"NO!" She tried to scream, but her lips and tongue were already
incapacitated. But she struggled anyway. She didn't want to be here, on
this table, in this cold white room. She had been here too many times
already.
Scully felt a hand stroke her forehead, and even though the only thing
that now remained thawed was her eyelids, the hand felt incredibly cold,
cold as one of the bodies found in autopsy bays, colder than her own
frozen skin.
She rolled her eyes back to try to gain a glimpse at her companion and
then wished she hadn't. A scream tried to claw its way from her vocal
cords, but became strangled in her paralyzed throat.
Scully was looking at herself, but it wasn't her, couldn't be. The head
was too bulbous, skin too pasty, eyes too vacant. "Please God", she
prayed, "please don't let this be me." But it was her. The second it
began to speak she knew.
"It's ok Dana. Everything will be ok. I know that you're scared now, but
it'll all work out for the best. I know what's best for you, for us.
Trust me... It is so much better feeling nothing. So much better than
being afraid..."
Scully couldn't talk, couldn't move. She tried begging to her alter ego
with her eyes, to no avail. The other her just ran her hand over
Scully's forehead again. "I told you, don't worry. You'll like having
all of the pain, and fear, and worry gone." She pulled a light to the
table, and placed it directly over Scully's head. As much as Scully
wanted to look away, her paralyzed body could not let her. But it wasn't
a real light; no it was something much worse. It was indicative of an
outer darkness; it was only mere reflective light
"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit. And soon you'll be just like me."
* * * * * *
Her own scream woke her. Scully went from sleep to wakefulness with a
painful jolt and she sat up straight in her chair, heart pounding, mouth
dry. Realization swept over her: There was a presence in the room.
The after images of her dream remained and it took several seconds
before she realized that the thin being that stood in front of her was
no and alien, but in fact a man. A tall, thin man with a graying beard,
leathery skin from too many years in the merciless sun. The lines of his
face spoke of wide grins and a gentleness that could only have been
etched over decades. He had one hand on his chest, and on his face he
wore a look of surprise mixed with concern. It seemed that she wasn't
the only one startled by her cry.
"Are you ok?" He asked, concerned. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. That
wasn't my intention."
"No, it wasn't you, but something else. It was I who startled you. I'm
sorry." She stood, and straightened her disheveled clothing.
"I was coming to wake you both."
Walking a short distance away from the bed, she motioned for the man to
follow. She spoke quietly, trying not to disturb Mulder, although he had
already slept through her calling out. "Can you help us? We need some
questions answered and you seem to be someone that can help us."
"Yes, that is actually the reason I'm here. I've come to bring both of
you to a meeting I've set up." He paused, then laughed again holding out
his hand. "I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself yet. I'm Dr.
Bower, but you can call me Ed."
"Nice to meet you." She gripped his hand.
-Flash-
The sun... so bright above...the earth below, the innards revealing its
secrets. Men bent double over ancient pits, dusting away the secrets,
particle by particle.
-Flash-
Excitement... confusion, a realization...then-
Scully jerked away as if he struck her with a live electrical wire.
Ed looked at her, and blinked slowly. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm fine." She whispered.
Ed was talking again, but she couldn't seem to comprehend the words. She
was having after-images, after-thoughts from her contact. A tablet--no,
a mural of some kind, and the realization of what it all meant... She
mentally shook her head in an attempt to clear her head. "This has to
stop." In her mind, she visualized bricks being stacked. One on top
of the other, mortar spread thick between.
She could hear him now. Ed was mid sentence when she began listening
again.
"-- thought that it would be best to let you both have the night before
we..." He laughed nervously. "Before we deluge you with information. We
also thought it would be best to give Mulder time to finish getting
better, and to give you time to adjust to all that is happening." He
paused, and concerned laced his words. "How are you adjusting?"
"Adjusting? Can he actually be serious? Well, except for the mind
reading thing, the double abduction thing, oh and of course the toxic
green blood, things are swell."
She didn't say any of this of course, instead, she responded with her
stand-by. "I'll be fine."
Ed seemed to believe her and he turned to leave. But he then remembered
something. "I almost forgot. Across the hall, there's a bathroom where
you both can freshen up. We have some clothing for both of you as well.
I'll come back in a few minutes and then we can begin."
"Then we can begin." She agreed.
* * * * * *