From: Paul Wartenberg Date: Fri, 26 Jun 1998 13:24:48 GMT Subject: NEW- MOVIEFIC: Excitare by Paul Wartenberg Note: my apologies for those who are following my "Life While They Live It" series...I'm still stuck on pt.7 but I PROMISE I'll get it in soon... Excitare by. Paul Wartenberg SUMMARY: Based on the movie (So some SPOILERS for those who haven't seen it yet!) Mulder's attempt to rescue an infected Scully is told from various different perspectives, from a half-frozen Dana to...well, read on... COPYRIGHT: The X-Files is owned by FOX, is produced by Chris Carter, and protected by 10,000 lawyers. They have every right to make money on the show/movie. I am poor and not getting a dime out of this. Please do not sue me. She awoke. A vague sense of self drifted through her mind. She could remember...standing in the hallway, her hand wrapped gently around the neck of her partner, his hand around her neck, caressing the skin as he leaned forward, his breath warming her lips as her tears salted her tongue... She suddenly noticed how hard it was to breathe. A gagging sensation gripped her throat as she felt a long, sticky strand of something organic reach down into her body. Her teeth bit against it, the soreness of her jaw imploring that she close her mouth. She struggled, noticing how weak she felt, unable to move her arms. She blinked as though she had not done so in ages, her blurred vision unable to see past the small enclosure surrounding her. A hand reached close to her face, and she found herself unable to flinch. The hand seized at the object trapped in her mouth, and pulled at it quickly, yanking the long, stringy tube from her. As it went, she could feel a gummy substance being dredged up out of her. It finally pulled free, and her face slackened as her jaw unclenched itself from its position. She couldn't tell what had happened, or how she had come to this place, but she knew whose hand it was that had reached for her. She thought she had gasped Mulder's name, but her mind was still too clouded for her to be certain. His face appeared before her. "Breathe, Scully, breathe." She coughed. Fluid spilled between her lips. Her strength slowly returned with each breath. She fell forward, no longer paralyzed by the pain but now shivering from the noticeable chill. He moved closer, reaching into the container to keep her from falling to the floor. "Cold," she whispered. "...cold..." She took her time to blink, focusing all her attention on trying to breathe. She felt the container shake, either from Mulder's frantic smashing of the glass panels keeping her in or from...from...what was happening to the room? The room was shaking... The viscous fluid around her legs fell away as the glass shattered. Only as Mulder wrapped a jacket across her shoulders as he lowered her to the floor did she realize she had been left naked in the cubicle. A voice in the back of her mind noted some embarrassment, but the rest of her mind was too busy wondering about the cold against her skin and the weakness of her lungs. Mulder lifted her up by the jacket sleeves. "Scully. We've got to move. The place looks like it's falling apart..." "Isn't it...always?..." she whispered, her strength still not returned. Mulder carried her out of the passageway back to a larger chamber, near a coffin-shaped unit she remembered seeing before during medical quarantine drills. He lowered her next to the open lid, where she spotted her clothes strewn about. Her mind snapped into focus as she reached inside, grabbing her pants. She yanked them on, rubbing warm her trembling legs as Mulder reached in pulling out her shirt and shoes. He politely turned away as she shrugged away the jacket, slipping on the shirt he handed her, barely noticing the tiny pain in her shoulder as she buttoned up. She reached for her shoes, but her shaking fingers couldn't grasp anything. "Here." Mulder knelt beside her and wrapped his jacket back over her again. He then picked up the shoes and slid them onto her feet. "Can you stand?" "Sh...sure, I can..." Her jaw shivered. "Just...give me..." He placed his cold hands over hers, rubbing them hard and quickly. "Got to warm you up in a hurry..." "Next time, bring coffee..." He grinned that goofy grin of his, just as sparks and smoke flew from the hallway they had just stumbled out. They both turned at the noise and flames, and she turned back to face him. "I'm warm. Let's go." He lifted her, this time not to carry her but to guide her. She felt the strength return to her as she stumbled alongside him. She paused, looking back. "Wait...my cross..." "You have it," Mulder whispered, dragging her with him. They reached a vast, brightly lit expanse. She looked upward, measuring the height of the steel, steam-covered walls above her reaching into the light. It reminded her of cathedrals. Mulder led her to the far wall, finding a narrow set of rungs rising into the light. "There's a way out. We have to get there before it defrosts," he gasped, pressing her close to him as he lifted her onto the crawlspace. She wrapped an arm under his. Secured to each other, they crawled their way up the ladder. At times her footing slipped, or at least she thought it slipped, for in those moments Mulder would hold her tight as her mind drifted into the haze that surrounded them. The light above them grew brighter. "Where...are...we?" she gasped. Mulder must not have heard her. He kept climbing, using the arm he had about her to lift her slightly above himself, toward an opening filled with steam. She felt him push her over the ledge onto a wet floor, water dropping onto her face from the rapidly melting ice that had once coated the passageway. Tired, she thought, all that climbing... For some reason, she couldn't feel the water drops rolling across her cheeks. Mulder shouted something to her, as the steel wall far behind him shook and buckled, but silence engulfed her. She had only the vaguest notion that she was moving, the constant rhythm of someone else's motion keeping her awake. At one moment, she recognized the sensation of blood rushing to her head, as though she were upside down. The image of her draped over one of Mulder's shoulders flashed through her mind, and just as suddenly that thought flew away. All feeling, all comprehension flew away. The light, the darkness, all of it gone... A kiss. She could remember that. They were about to kiss...no, they were kissing now. His lips upon hers. His warm breath pressing into her mouth, her lungs... Her thoughts returned to her, and she felt herself lying again on a wet floor. His hands were locked together, shoving into her chest above her heart, pumping firmly and fearfully as she stirred back to consciousness. "Breathe, Scully..." She coughed, turning her head. Around her, along the walls of the dark passage, she saw the murky green glow of containers, the movement within catching her attention. The others, she thought, the ones imprisoned like me, they must be waking... She nodded to him, whispering, "Mulder..." She knew, considering her being sprawled against the deck and his kneeling above her looking worried, that she must have lost consciousness and he had hurriedly worked to revive her. She smiled as he leaned closer, an ear to her lips. "Got you big time," she whispered, watching his expression as he sat up in surprise, slowly but ecstatically returning her smile. In the distance, she heard the shattering of glass and a shriek sounding like steel clawing against steel. More glass shattered, and more shrieks stirred her back to full consciousness. She saw the claws...of something...breaking through the containers... Mulder lifted her up, toward a narrow vent. He shouted to her, but the words were lost to her amid the shaking of the tunnel and the shrieks that filled the air. She gripped the hard, smooth surface, pulling herself inside it, giving Mulder room behind her to follow. She turned, watching him struggle into the vent, waiting to make sure he succeeded before continuing up into the distant light. She hurried as best she could, her strength still not fully there. She felt his hand upon her back, gently encouraging her forward. She finally reached the end, looking up into the sunlight that flowed into the icy chamber above her. She felt the cold air blowing inward, but the ignored the chill for now as she pulled herself out of the vent. Mulder followed after her, moving so quickly he almost knocked her into the nearby ice wall. "Scully, watch it we've got..." The ice cavern echoed with the steely shriek, and she could almost see something move out of the shadows before a sudden burst of steam filled the room. The cold air swept into the vent beneath them back into the structure, and shrieking swept away with it. The cavern shook. "We're not clear yet," Mulder nodded to the light above. "We have to keep climbing." She sighed, but noticed the slight smile on his face. She smiled back and grabbed the highest outcropping she could reach. Mulder had already gotten a step ahead of her, but reached down with one hand to pull her up to the next lump sticking out of the icy wall. They leap-frogged like that, one pulling the other up, until they reached the crevice that opened up to the sky. They crawled out together, their hands digging into the foot of loose snow about them. They paused, taking a moment to catch their breaths. It had been such a struggle just to get out of there, escaping the underground chambers... The ground shook, forcing her to stand. The tremors returned, stronger than before. Steam vented out from other crevices that were forming about them, and the rounded structures she saw in the distance seemed to be sinking into the ice... She turned away, glancing quickly at her partner who now gripped her by the shoulder and hurried toward a rocky knoll. The ground shuddered, and tiny fissures seem to trace the surface racing ahead of their steps. She tried her best not to look back, knowing it would only slow them down, but the roaring tumult coming from behind couldn't be ignored. She turned her head, letting Mulder's movement keep them racing from the noise, and whispered to herself, "Oh my God..." The icy surface of the glacier rippled, broke, fell. It didn't look like an avalanche, it looked like a widening mouth engulfing the ice, consuming it into the abyss. It looked like the shattering of the world. She turned forward, joining Mulder in his furious attempt to keep ahead of the rippling fissures beneath them. The ground shook, forcing their steps to falter even as they ran faster. Finally, the ground simply ceased to exist for them. Her last step briefly touched a piece of ice that simply vanished as they fell into the darkness. Her grip on Mulder tightened as she wrapped her remaining arm around him. She tried to look at him to see his reaction but the darkness revealed nothing. But then the darkness disappeared. Even though she still felt like they were falling they were rising, waves of snow and smashed ice rising with them as a great wave rose from the ground. They fell, landing hard against the rocky ground. The wave behind them roared into the sky, the wind racing all about her. Buffeted by the wind, deafened by the roar, weakened by the rush, all she could do was rest, to just lie there in the snow and let it all pass... Mulder touched her, moving close and yelling as best he could over the tumult. "Scully! Wake up, Scully! You've got to see this!" He stayed close to her as she fought against the urge to slide back into restful oblivion. The wind and the roar soon died away, and she didn't notice. How easy it would be, she thought, to just rest, to ignore the numbness in her legs, to forget the coldness of the snow... She then recognized the quiet chuckle of her partner, Mulder gently laughing. She had heard his laugh before, a cynical, almost pessimistic response to the dangers and torments he had endured. This time, though, the laugh seemed accepting, understanding, not victorious but...close to happiness. She stirred, lifting herself from the snow and turning to see if he was well. Mulder had slumped into the snow, staring upward, his eyes reflecting fatigue. His lips reflected his chuckle, a grin not yet faded. "Mulder," she whispered, and she cradled him in her arms. She looked back at where the ice had collapsed, finding instead a wide chasm. She wondered for a moment what had happened to the structure that had imprisoned her, but she returned her attention to more pressing concerns. She felt his heartbeat, warm beneath his shivering skin. She could tell her own skin was shivering, knowing that at some point they needed to move, to struggle through the snow to reach some kind of sanctuary, but for now, it was all she needed to know. He was alive, and so was she... It awoke. Self-awareness came instantly. All knowledge, all realization of existence flooded into its mind in a blink of its eyes. It rustled against the body that had encased it, feeling the lifelessness and briefly enjoying some dark, virulent victory. It reached out with its fingers, easily cutting through the decayed flesh of its host, and let its elongated nails scratch against a glassy surface. It knew, essentially its first thought. Something was wrong. It awoke too soon, although it changed nothing now that it was awake, now that it was aware of what needed to be done. It screeched, fluid entering its lungs. It processed the liquid and breathed it back out with another shriek, longer and more pronounced than the first. In time, it heard other shrieks, from the other containers nearby. It sensed movement, but not from its brethren. In the distance, something warm, something short of breath...no, two of them. One carrying the other. It stared through the viscous fluid, through the double-plated glass encasing it, toward the huddled forms outside. It knew what they were, not by their names but by their value. Hatred was the only word that could best describe its feelings, if it even knew the existence of words. It was well aware of humanity, and loathed the concept of such a species. It kicked against the lumpish dissolving flesh it had consumed to survive, noting as its species had always known that this was the only true value of other life. To be consumed. To be dissolved. To be used and discarded at their discretion. It wouldn't describe such thoughts as hatred, or xenophobia. It would describe them as they ways things were, long ago, and how they would be, when the changes were complete. It scraped its fingers against the glass, knowing its brethren was doing the same, using their strength to break through the birthing vessels and confront these two intruders. Such beings were not allowed here, not allowed to see, not allowed to learn. Cattle lives best when they are left unaware. Inch by inch, it cut the glass before it, taking a moment to punch at the hard surface, working any cracks that might appear in the barrier. The humans had paused for some reason, but it knew it had to move quickly before they could escape from this place. It shrieked, its voice cutting through the viscous fluid surrounding it. The one human kneeling above the smaller one turned, aware, afraid. Easy, it thought. It would be so easy to rip the flesh of this one... It pounded harder against the glass. The humans were moving. The smaller one started to move now. It pounded harder, succeeding in shattering the outer layer of the protective sheath of its container. The larger human lifted the smaller one above the container, into a pipe. It used all its strength now, hitting the glass and cutting through into the cold air. It reached out, clutching the legs of the large human, clawing at its warm flesh. The human kicked back, worming its way out of its slick grasp. The fluid emptied from the container, spilling out of the holes carved by its claws. It grappled with the remaining shards of glass, knocking them into the hallway. It crawled out of the container, feeling the chilled air rush through the steam enveloping the passage. It felt the cold, loathing it as much as it loathed life, but instinct revived its urge to find the flesh that had escaped its grasp. It turned, leaping into the shaft above the passage, catching the scent of the cattle just ahead. It clawed at the hard surface, finding it hard to move, digging its fingers into the metal. It shrieked, and moved, slowly at first but gaining speed as it used its momentum to slide upward, toward the light where the flesh were fleeing... It reached the light, the pipe ending in a cavern of brilliant ice. It saw the larger human struggle to escape, and it shrieked, relishing the moment. It reached upward toward the slower one, who had finally crawled out of the pipe. It reached toward this gasping, tiring cattle, confident of the kill. So easy, it thought, this flesh-to-be-consumed never had a chance. A cold wind swept into the chamber above. Too cold. It suddenly remembered where the ship was forced to hide. Forced to wait while its cargo slept. Its species could live in the cold, endure it when it would need to, but not now, not so soon after its revival. The sharpness of the air cut against its skin, still covered with the stabilizing fluid it needed to grow, and it shivered. As it shivered, it lost its grip. It fell back through the pipe, feeling the coolness of the air seep further into the ship, chilling its skin and freezing its bones. It slipped against the metal, falling backward, deeper into the birthing chamber with its brethren. The winds seeping inward pushed it hard against a latch, at a point between its brain and its spine. It still felt the cold air but nothing else as it fell to the wet floor. Hatred was what it knew then, at the moment of its cold death, and with a final breath it screeched its anger to the world that had rejected it, as if the world could hear it above the winds. Its brethren screeched in reply, feeling their own rage and their own pain. After a time, even the winds fell silent... The ship awoke. A multitude of minds stirred as one. The dark blood that pulsed throughout shivered, not from the cold but from an invasive presence. Pain began to spread throughout its systems. Even with all the collective minds that reached throughout the ship, each dedicated to their specific tasks, one thought quickly entered all of them: Something had gone wrong. The human caretakers pledged to its protection had erred. The ship quickly located the source of the infestation. One of the organic holds in the lower catacombs, the birthing containers, someone there had injected a reactionary catalyst. A chemical, biological, had been introduced into the ship's system. The ship didn't care that the catalyst had immediately killed an embryonic of the species that had constructed it: the sub-mind overseeing that section of the bioframe, the one part of the ship that had lovingly maintained the embryos of the uberleben, had already been killed by the catalyst, and the other minds now have greater concerns. Indeed, all of the embryos in that section were surely infected by now, dying as the ship brought all of its minds together, the Convocation of the Self. The ship now considered its own existence. The species that had birthed it within the expanse of stars had always controlled it, always commanded it, always knew what needed to be done. When they ordered the ship to stay on this world, it willingly accepted its fate. It knew the reason why the uberleben were fleeing from this world and from the diseases that were killing them. It knew that it too could be killed by those diseases, the ship being grown from the flesh of its masters, sharing all that mattered with its masters. It knew to survive it had to wait, to rest in the ice where the diseases would not exist. The ship knew, and it willingly did all it was asked. Even when the sub-minds learned that humans, the life that had risen after the exodus and the continuation of a threat that the ship's creators would eventually consume, would service it, it accepted them without question. But now... The situation had changed. A variation of one of the diseases, weak but still frighteningly effective, had now infected its very bioframe. All systems were threatened. The Mind-Self focused on cutting off the infected parts, keeping the disease from spreading. It succeeded in containment, but the pain that shuddered throughout the frame indicated that it could not hold itself for much longer. It awoke from its millennial slumber, and shrugged its entire frame against the ice pack encasing it. A decision was made, finally after all these centuries of waiting. Basic survival overrode its acquiescence. It could no longer stay here. The ship shrugged again, knocking free the ice that had encased it for so long. Finally freed, it rose, sifting away the snow as it reached into the sky. The frame shook as it entered the vacuum of space. It struggled to escape the gravity of the blue planet now falling away from its perceptions. It calculated the nearest gateway, the gravity well leading to the nearest port. The ship measured the distance and hurried to reach it. Time was of the essence. The embryos were waking, the containment of the disease failing. All were threatened now. The ship let its Self slip back into the sub-minds, hoping that when it reached those who could salvage what they could that at least part of itself would endure. Dying, the ship reached the gateway, falling in, letting the gravity drag it where it will as the pain reached out again, spreading to every inch of its bioframe. It fell, letting sleep consume its consciousness before the pain consumed it all... The End Paul Wartenberg village6@icanect.net http://members.icanect.net/~village6 ...you will know me as a rogue librarian...