From: Blair53@aol.com
Date: Sat, 24 Apr 1999 17:21:50 EDT
Subject: B-files--Episode Two: Mene Mene Tekel Parsin

Title: B-files--Episode Two:Mene Mene Tekel Parsin
Author: Carolina E.
Rating: PG
Classification: X X-files (don't know what this means, but whatever)
Keywords: Alternate Universe
Summary: Mulderius and Scullia travel to the ancient city of Babylon to 
uncover a mystery.

First off, you should really read Ep. 1-Yahweh to fully understand what's 
going on. If you're feeling lazy today and don't want to read it, then I'll 
summarize. Mulderius and Scullia are two IBI (imperial bureau of 
investigation) agents who examine mysteries related to Biblical events. They 
live about the time of 20-30 a.d. Again, to all other Roman/Latin freaks 
(like me!), I'm sorry if any of the timing or dates are off. Also, I added in 
a couple of strange anachronisms this time, but don't we all? I think that 
covers it. On to my favoritist part, the disclaimer:

THE DISCLAIMER
Chris Carter owns them
I sure wish I did
Because then I'd be really rich
And wouldn't translate Cicero!
(roughly to tune of row row row your boat)

Now, you have the privilege to read my madness:

Episode Two: Mene, Mene, Tekel, Parsin 
(May 23, IBI offices, temple of Saturn, 8:19 a.m.)
"Good morning, Mulderius," Scullia sighed, dropping her woolen and quite
hot mocha colored palla on a chair. He couldn't help but smile at the 
sight of his new partner, deep circles under her eyes and stifling a yawn. 
She had not gotten used to going without sleep for such a long time. Well, 
wake up and smell the coffee, Scullia, aren't you in for a fun life at 
the B-files.
"How did you sleep?" he inquired, trying to keep the grin out of his voice,
but she heard it and thus ignored him.
"All right then," he cleared his throat and spoke, "I've got a new B-file."
"Hmmm. That's nice," she said, clearly disinterested.
"Yes, I thought so too, Scullia."
"Moving right along?I suppose you don't lend time for thought composure 
and mastering motor skills."
"What?"
"Waking up."
"Oh. Nope. Anyway, here it is: According to the Torah, in the book of Daniel, 
there was an unexplained phenomenon during the reign of King Belshazzar. What 
happened was-"
"A human hand appeared on a wall during a feast, in which the king drank from 
the gold and silver goblets that had been taken from the temple in 
Jerusalem," finished his partner, a member of the Jewish faith and well 
schooled in it.
"That's right," he said, surprised, "Anyway, the hand wrote the words-"
"Mene, Mene, Tekel, Parsin. Mene can mean numbered or mina, a unit of money. 
Tekel can mean weighed or shekel. Parsin may be Peres, its singular form, and 
it can mean divided or Persian or a half mina or half shekel. Daniel, 
however, interpreted them to say-"
"That's enough, Scullia, you can inform this ignorant one later," Mulderius 
said, interrupting for the first time. "Anyway, this order came down from 
Assistant Consul Director Skinnerus this morning and we're to leave for 
Babylon first thing this afternoon. Better get back home and pack, Scullia. 
Don't you sometimes wish there was a faster way of communication?"
"Of course Mulderius. But it's not like there will ever be some sort of 
technological device that can transmit sound waves by wires into receivers. 
Can you imagine?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, head on back to your domus, Scullia. I 
would suggest that you pack something heavy. Suitable for, you know, the 
middle of the desert?" he trailed off, reminding her wordlessly of her utter 
lack of protection for the harsh sun and blazing heat on their last case. She 
sighed. It was going to be a long, long week.

(June 1, site of Neo-Babylonian Empire, 3:34 p.m.)
"Here we are, Scullia. Ready to visit the locals, try a little food, sample 
some fine wines?"
"Yeah right, mm-hm, Mulderius," she replied, looking at the barren landscape. 
"How will we find anyone to question around here, if I may ask?" He ignored 
her negative comment and instead took up light banter.
"Feeling a little more?well prepared this time, Scullia?" he said, regarding 
her expensive S.P.Q.R. issue desert uniform and gear with IBI printed on the 
back. 
"Of course!" she snapped at him, not liking being reminded of her mistakes. 
"Besides, I had never been in the desert before and you didn't tell me what 
to wear. It was your fault, and?" she trailed off as they noticed a speck 
(not Jake) in the distance, and they both drew their crossbows.
"Looks like we won't have a problem finding people to question after all, 
Scullia."

Soon the man was close enough that they were able to tell that he really 
wasn't a he, but a she, a young, lithe woman of about 20 with dark hair anda 
flawless olive complexion. Scullia winced inwardly as she saw her partner 
observing the girl with scrutiny that wasn't due to the fact that they might 
possibly be in danger.
The girl raised her hand to them in welcome and spoke, "Greetings, travelers. 
Who are you and why have you come here?"
"I'm Special Proconsular Agent Mulderius, and this is Agent Scullia. We're 
with the IBI of S.P.Q.R." he intoned as it was a quite familiar statement, 
and showed her his badge. 
"From Rome? Why do the Romans have interest in Old Babylon?" Her Latin was a 
little shaky, but basically good. Mulderius wondered where she had learned 
it. (Author randomly interjects: From me! From me!)
"We're here investigating the handwriting on the wall during the reign of 
King Belshazzar."
"Mene, Mene, Tekel, Parsin," she breathed, "But Belteshazzar, perhaps know to 
you as Daniel, solved the mystery and said the kingdom would be taken over by 
the Medo-Persians, as it was. What is there to investigate?"
"Well, we just want to follow up on the story and make sure there are no 
discrepancies. Can you help us?"
"Why, yes, of course. By the way, my name is Milcah." 
"Thanks?uh, Milcah." As they walked he whispered to Scullia, "That's the one 
thing you never get used to. The names."
"I'm used to them already. I read my Torah," she said squarely, as if somehow 
this might deter his obvious interest in the girl. Milcah looked back, and 
the two became somber under her steady, unwavering gaze. She walked on, the 
two following. Scullia may have looked like the Ice Queen on the outside even 
in the middle of the desert, but inside she was all fire about Mulderius' 
infatuation with Milcah. She refused to ask herself what implications this 
feeling had on her ideas of her still new relationship with her partner. She 
continued to walk, trying to ignore Mulderius' staring at Milcah. My 
goodness, any more and he would be foaming at the mouth, she thought wryly.
	Finally, they came to the once great city that even now still teemed 
with visitors and the inhabitants. Milcah parted with them, claiming she had 
business to attend to, for which Scullia was inwardly grateful. The two 
agents wandered the new city for about half an hour, and then stopped to eat 
something. 
	As Scullia enjoyed her salad, she remarked, "You know, Mulderius, 
Aramaic, like Hebrew, is actually written without vowels, so the words on the 
wall would have been, being a very short inscription, completely ambiguous."
"Yes, which makes me wonder why Daniel was able to divine the meaning," added 
Mulderius, champing away on a leg of mutton. Scullia looked at him for a 
moment, making him feel distinctly uncomfortable, especially since the gaze 
was none too nice.
"Well, I believe the only explanation is that Daniel interpreted these signs 
with the help of God."
"But isn't it then just as plausible for me to say that he had 
extraterrestrial assistance, as in perhaps he was abducted and the aliens 
gave him this ability?" She sighed.
"I suppose. Maybe we should run this through the eye of science that can 
never lie. There's a possible chance that he happened to understand these 
signs through pure coincidence."
"Oh, come on, Scullia, please? And then it was proven to be true? I don't 
think so."
"I just want you to realize how foolish your idea sounds in the light of 
science."
"And your first one doesn't?"
"Mulderius, all I am trying to say is-"
"Forget it, Scullia, let's go," he tossed twenty sestertii on the table of 
the inn, and stood up to leave, Scullia reluctantly following.

(Palace of Belshazzar, 6:17 p.m.)
"Look at this place," Scullia breathed, afraid she might disturb the fragile 
balance of artifacts and the rapidly deteriorating infrastructure. "It could 
fall in any moment, Mulderius. We better hurry up."
"All right, all right," he said, having not heard a single word she had said. 
"Now, according to the legend, we're looking for the feasting room, which 
should be right over?" he found a crumbled doorway and entered a large room, 
holding high his lantern, "here."
"Oh, my goodness, Mulderius, look!" Scullia said incredulously.
"By the gods?" he whispered. The words "Mene Mene Tekel Parsin" were written 
garishly opposite a decayed lampstand on the plaster of the wall in a 
dripping, red color. He followed Scullia tentatively as the two walked over 
to view the phenomenon. They were both looking up so intently at the words, 
Scullia stumbled over a large object, only then looking at the floor.
"No, Mulderius?"
"Oh no?" The two knelt by the very grotesque and very dead body of Milcah, 
drained of all its blood, and with a gaping wound in the stomach.
"Scullia, do you think you could?determine the cause of death?"
"Mulderius, this is absolutely repugnant?who would do this?"
"What killed her, Scullia?" he demanded hoarsely.
"Mulderius, I'm afraid it's a little too, um, extreme for you," she replied, 
almost as a question since she didn't know him too well yet. 
"Are we talking about the same me here? Please, Scullia. We knew her. We met 
her. We talked with her. What killed her?"
"I can't be sure of this yet?but it's as if a-a person ripped a hole in her 
skin with their-their hand, Mulderius." 
"What? Is that even plausible, Scullia?"
"Not very plausible, I'll admit, Mulderius, but then again is any of this 
plausible?" She threw her arms wide, as if condemning the whole thing with a 
single sweep of her hands. He had been wrong about her, he mused. No, Danae 
Scullia was not an innocent as he had thought. Maybe, just maybe, she was 
someone who had seen too much too soon, too eager to know it all, only to 
find that she didn't want to know in the first place, and it gave her a 
duplicitous aura-a woman filled with sorrows, but masquerading them with her 
brisk professional attitude. She was hiding something, he knew it for sure, 
and he was going to find it out, whatever it took, whatever he had to do?
But then again, he shouldn't think like that in a place like this. Not a time 
for his philosophy, but his skill at determining the killer's own driving 
force, what caused him to kill in the first place. He knelt beside Scullia, 
trying to figure out how to help her. 

(June 2, marketplace of Babylon, 8:03 a.m.)
"Mulderius, we didn't know the girl well enough to know if any of these 
people even recognize this drawing of her, if any of them are her friends or 
family."
"We'll keep looking. I have a feeling we're on the right track in this case. 
Something big is going to happen."
They went from stall to stall, showing the tiny drawing of Milcah that they 
had found among her belongings. Then they hit gold. They stopped at a booth 
that was selling scarves, ribbons, and other fabrics. Mulderius' mind went to 
the blood soaked palla and stola from the night before, and began thumbing 
through the racks. Scullia was all business, though.
"Excuse me, sir," she began, speaking to the man who seemed to be in charge 
of the fray, "I'm Agent Danae Scullia, from the IBI in Rome, and I was 
wondering if I could ask you a few questions."
"Of course. Rome you say? How nice. We do not get many visitor from Rome. 
Ashpenaz is my name."
"Ashpenaz, do you recognize this woman?" 
"Oh, yes. Milcah be her name. Where is she? She late to work today."
"She works here?"
"Yes. Help me sell fabric. Oh, please do take any kind you like, on me." He 
had noticed the togate Mulderius looking over his products, and felt that he 
had to be kind to Romans, seeing as how they were the government nowadays. 
Mulderius smiled, and walked over to the palest pink and gray silken fabrics. 
Scullia was unfazed by this display of unprofessional antics; she had already 
grown used to it.
"Thank you, sir, but may we return to the questions?"
"Right, right! I am sorry, miss. So yes, Milcah do work here. Where is she?"
"Sir, I'm afraid Milcah is dead. Do you know of anyone who might want to kill 
her?"
"Dead?" The man looked truly shocked. 
"Yes, sir, I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you, miss. Well, Milcah did have little extra business on the side, 
you know what I mean." It was said almost seductively, and she shivered a 
bit, but nodded.
"So you think perhaps an angry, uh, customer?" She tried to ask discreetly. 
"It would be my guess."
"You have been very helpful, sir. I appreciate your willingness to talk. It 
will be remembered." She turned to leave.
"Yes, miss." And she didn't notice a mysterious man come out of a cloud of 
smoke and hand the shopkeeper a purse full of money.
"No, Ashpenaz, I appreciate your willingness to talk and it will be 
remembered," he said in a raspy voice, and then vanished. 

"Scullia, look what I got!" Mulderius held up the fabric and a light blue 
ribbon. 
"Oh, Mulderius, it will look lovely on you. It matches your skin tone 
perfectly," she said dryly. He rolled his eyes.
"Yes, and doesn't it complement my high cheekbones and my full red lips?" he 
said in a lisp. She smiled, her only concession to ever hearing any of his 
humor. 
"Who's it for?" she asked, not really caring, but hoping he wasn't some sort 
of fetishist who wanted to make it Milcah's shroud.
"It's for you," he said in a you-should-have-known-that voice.
"Oh. Um, thanks Mulderius, but I think this goes against IBI rules of 
relationships between male and female agents."
"No it doesn't. You ruined your stola and palla. I got you new ones. Besides, 
when in Babylon?" It was her turn to roll her eyes. 
"But the Babylonians don't wear stolas," she replied tartly.
"Oooh, you're saucy, Scullia, and I have to admit that turns me on." She gave 
him that look only females could give, and grabbed the fabric away from him. 
They kept walking.
"What I'm wondering is why anyone would want to do this to a young woman who 
seemed to have no enemies," Mulderius said, pondering a bit. 
"The man did suggest that she had actions of a?meretricious nature," Scullia 
replied.
"Yes, I know, but I have a feeling that wasn't why she was killed."
"Why, then?"
"I think she got too close to something, Scullia, and they had to kill her."
"But the question is, Mulderius, who are 'they'?" He mused, then shook his 
head. 

(Marketplace of Babylon, 12:06 p.m.)
The two had wandered deeper into the dark reaches of the marketplace, 
searching for the place where the courtesans sold their?wares. They found 
it around lunchtime, when it seemed that many of the city's finest came out for 
a little lunch break. Scullia seemed distinctly uneasy about being in this 
place, but for Mulderius, who owned many a questionable painting, it was 
almost homey.
	"We should question one of the girls, Scullia," he said.
	"And just how intensely would you like to question them, Mulderius?" 
she asked tartly. "Better let me do it. These girls probably don't trust men 
as far as they can throw them anymore. Stay here," she commanded, and went 
over to a fair-haired girl that was trying to interest the men choosing whom 
to take.
	"Excuse me," Scullia said, walking up to the girl. She was surprised 
to see a Roman woman in this area of the marketplace.
	"Yes," she then added as an afterthought, almost, "ma'am?"
	"I'm a proconsular agent with the IBI; I'd like to ask you some 
questions."
	"All right. What can I do for you, miss?"
	"Did you know this girl?" she asked, showing the picture of Milcah. 
	"Yes. That's one of my friends. Milcah. Why? What's wrong?"
	"I'm afraid your friend is?dead," Scullia said as gently as she 
possibly could. The girl's eyes filled with tears.
	"Dead? But how can this be? I saw her just yesterday morning, she 
seemed so?vibrant," she choked out.
	"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you a little bit about 
Milcah. Was she involved in anything that seemed a little?odd?to you lat
ely?" 
The girl actually looked frightened for a moment then pulled Scullia even 
farther back into a corner, looking around nervously to make sure that no one 
was listening. 
	"I'd seen Milcah with an older man, always smoking. I don't know why. 
She planned things, did things differently. It seemed to me that maybe she 
had joined up with a new religion. She was always so smart, maybe she was 
helping this man with something."
	"Did she ever display suicidal tendencies?"
	"No! No, never. Milcah was so full of life, she had so much to do 
ahead of her?I really think she had a bright future. I knew she was getting 
into dangerous things. I should have warned her?" the girl shook her head, 
sadly, eyes still bright with unshed tears.
	"Thank you so much for your time. I am very sorry for your loss," 
Scullia said, turning back to the place where Mulderius had been. He wasn't 
there. She turned and looked around for him for quite some time before she 
found him talking?earnestly?with a red haired girl. 
	"Mulderius," she said impatiently, and not just a little angrily.
	"Oh. Um. Yeah," he said, blushing a beet red and said to the girl, "I 
have to go." She looked disappointed that she had lost a customer, but got 
over it and found another man. The two agents walked in silence until they 
left the notorious section and came into more friendly parts.
	"You know, Mulderius, I'm a redhead too," she said in a light, 
bantering tone, then wondered why she had said it.
	"Yeah, but Scullia, you're so tense! Maybe if you would lighten up?" 
he left it unfinished but raised his eyebrows suggestively. She ignored this 
purposely.
	"However, I did learn something about Milcah. She was involved with 
an older man, perhaps even recruited to do something for him. Her friend said 
she was extremely bright and that she what she was doing seemed very 
suspicious."
	"Perhaps she was hiding something, helping cover up the secret that 
they have been here all along. Did her friend go into any detail about the 
man?"
	"Nope, just said that he was a smoker." She watched, amazed, as 
Mulderius' face twisted into pure rage. He smacked his hand into his fist. 
	"Mulderius, what is it?" she asked as tenderly as she could, not 
wanting to provoke him. His expression softened as he looked at her.
	"I'm sorry, Scullia. I got carried away. This smoker is involved 
somehow. I don't know how. I don't know why. But he's big. If she was 
involved with him, no wonder she was killed. Perhaps he's bad at keeping 
secrets in the dark, and she found out something she shouldn't have. Maybe 
she was even going to exploit it, make a little money."
	"Maybe. But what could she have found out?"
	"That's what I suggest we find out," he replied, face grim.

(Beshel's Inn, 9:43 p.m.)
	"Mulderius, this just doesn't make any sense," Scullia sighed, 
throwing another roll of papyrus onto the floor. "What are we looking for, 
anyway?"
	"I told you, Scullia, anything that looks somewhat suspicious. Just 
keep trying." Mulderius had obtained the city's business records to see if 
there was maybe a chance that this thing had been legal. He didn't think 
there was much of one, but you just never knew with cigarette smoking 
weirdoes. 
	"Here we go. Someone spent a hundred thousand denarii on fish. Who 
needs that kind of fish?" she said jokingly. 
	"Scullia, please. Concentrate."
	"Sorry." The two worked in relative silence for several minutes, 
until Mulderius stood up and stretched.
	"You're right-this is worthless," he said, "I think we might as well 
stop and maybe even turn in early."
	"Wait. I think I have something. This is Juno Enterprises, which 
bought the old palace for renovations. No further information, and this is 
from several years ago. All right, here it says that the company no longer 
exists; yet the temple is still in their possession. Weird, huh?"
	"More than weird, Scullia. I don't think it's a coincidence. There's 
some kind of power at that temple, and they're trying to channel it. We've 
got to go there and find out what it is."
	"Tonight?"
	"Yep," he said, smiling at her gloomy face, "no beauty sleep tonight 
for you, Scullia." She really wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but 
refrained from such childish behavior.

(Palace of Belshazzar, 11:17 p.m.)
"Mulderius?I am so tired," Scullia said, stifling a yawn. They had been at 
the palace for over an hour and a half, with no suspicions other than the one 
that the place would fall in on them. She now held her 4,000 sestertii (dang, 
those things get expensive!) lantern high along the walls of the bedroom of 
the ancient king.
"Big bedroom."
"Yep. Probably had a lot of?" he trailed off, glancing at her and not want
ing 
to offend her delicate sensibilities, "mistresses."
"Mulderius, you mean a lot of whores," she clarified, and he was surprised 
yet again in a long list of Scullia surprises. He wished he was keeping 
track. He really shouldn't stray
from thinking about the case, but ever since his new partner had arrived, his 
mind had been wandering so much he might as well just take a permanent 
vacation. 
"Hey, Scullia, what was the funky sounding name that you used to invoke that 
dude at the burning bush? Yahoo?" She completely and utterly glared at him.
"I'd prefer it if we didn't discuss that," she snapped, "and besides, this is 
not the time nor the place."
"Uh, yeah. All right," he gulped nervously, not wanting to face the wrath of 
Scullia. They walked on in silence for a
few minutes then looked at one another as they heard noises coming from 
another room. Cautiously, they found their way to the source, the feasting 
room. What they saw raised goosebumps on both. The room was ablaze with 
light, restored to glory as it had been in the days before, and was filled to 
the brim with rather inebriated people. A man sat at the center of the mass 
confusion amidst a horde of women. Somehow, none of it looked real. It was 
hazy and the people were ghostlike in their motions. They were from long ago 
and far away. The man in the center apparently called forth for magnificent 
cups to be brought in. Mulderius and Scullia looked at each other in 
amazement, not even sure that they themselves were real anymore. Suddenly 
they looked up in astonishment along with the rest of the spirits as those 
fated words were written on the wall. They once more glanced at each other, 
and looked back-to find everything gone. Nothing but the old lampstand and a 
whole lot of time that had rushed past them in the past nanosecond as the 
figures disappeared into void. Mulderius spoke shakily but firmly, and said 
the most surprising thing of Scullia's surprising day.
"Let's go home. We've seen what we needed to see." She nodded weakly. They 
left.

(June 13, Assistant Consul Director Skinnerus' office, 9:47 a.m.)
"So this is the only information you have?" Skinnerus asked, holding up the 
meager case report and already anticipating the answer.
"Yes, sir," Mulderius replied honestly, "I'm afraid that after that, Agent 
Scullia and I left Babylon."
"And you can't prove this?so-called 'ghostly' encounter?"
"No, sir, we cannot."
"Can you give me a reason why you left Babylon without completing your case, 
agents?"
"Well, sir, I think Agent Scullia and I learned," he glanced tentatively at 
the silent agent and she gave him an affirmative look: go ahead, she was 
obviously thinking. "Well, we learned that some matters are better left 
alone."

Finis! Wow, you actually finished it without vomiting! I'm so impressed. If 
you liked it, e-mail me at XFCancergirl@yahoo.com. If you didn't like it, go 
translate some Cicero and leave me alone! Please! Do not write me saying bad 
stuff! Gratia tibi.