Genesis of Revelation (7/12) by H Lynn

Disclaimer in part one

*************************


Ronald Reagan National Airport
Washington, DC
12:32 p.m.



	Exhausted and aching in every place she could think of, Scully 
disembarked from the third plane in the past twelve hours. After going 
from Abidjan, Cote D'ivoire, up to Paris, then to JFK airport in New 
York, then from there to National, she only prayed her luggage would 
still be with her.

	By some miracle, she watched her suitcase show up as the fifth one 
in line, almost a token of peace and goodwill considering the trip she'd 
taken. She couldn't muster up the traditional acclamation, however, in 
lieu of recent events. Authorities were at this moment pulling the 
remains of the ship--the *alien* ship, her inner voice taunted--out of 
the ocean, although the odds that it would disappear were better than a 
sure thing at the race track. She debated over staying in Africa to 
supervise the excavation, but she didn't have the time to spend on it. 
Mulder's condition was worsening, and the only man she knew who could 
decipher the writings was on his deathbed in New Mexico. 

	After putting her luggage away in the trunk of her car, she 
debated over whether to head straight home, go to the office, or head 
over to where Mulder was being kept in confinement. The pragmatist side 
of her told her to head home and call it a day; the workaholic in her 
told her to head back to work; but the small, once-long oppressed 
intuitive side of her screamed for her to head for the hospital, as fast 
as she could. Only a year or two ago, she would have ignored that voice 
in favor of the others, but now...she couldn't afford *not* to listen. 
The scientist in her balked at such a flagrant disregard for facts, but 
the emotional side--the woman she was--couldn't ignore it. 

	And so she turned her car towards the hospital, going as fast as 
possible with no real reason she could name, aside from the very real 
fear of something happening to the man that meant more to her than she 
could bring herself to say out loud.



	Andrea called Mulder's office number once again, with no response. 
She'd been trying to reach him for hours, now, using up the precious 
hours of her day off to tell him of her latest dream, and she couldn't 
get any straight answers from the switchboard or anyone from personnel. 
As far as the Bureau was concerned, Agent Mulder was away on assignment.

	She hung up the phone dejectedly, almost willing to give up. She 
was sure now that the woman in her dream was Agent Scully, and that the 
man on the floor had been Agent Mulder. Had she seen his death, or just 
a serious injury? And even so, what about the earlier dream, when she'd been
knocked down before even turning the corner?

	Rubbing her temples, she tried to banish the headache that line of 
thinking had produced. She wasn't a physicist or a mathematician--heck, 
she hadn't even passed Trigonometry in high school. But she'd read 
enough science journals and articles on time and space theories that she 
felt confident in saying the dream had a chance at being the real thing. 
Only problem was, it wasn't a dream she wanted to come true.



Armitage Sanitarium
12:53pm



	Pain was the first thing he felt. Aching from head to toe, Mulder 
tried to move his arms to relieve the pain, and found them securely 
fastened together by handcuffs. Lying on his side in a cold, concrete 
cell, he had the irrational thought that maybe he was in the same room, 
just without the padding.

	The thoughts that assaulted his mind changed that opinion, 
however. No crazy ramblings or insane mumblings, here. Only the thoughts 
and presence of people who were disciplined and well-trained. And even 
then, they weren't close-by enough for him to read their thoughts. 

	So, he had no idea where he was, how he'd gotten there, and he 
was still wearing the same hospital smock as before. He grimaced as the 
cold, linoleum floor stuck stubbornly to his exposed flesh, not wanting 
to let go of its warmth. It was dark enough in the cell that he couldn't 
make out much of anything, but he assumed he was in a basement, 
somewhere. The men who worked on the Project didn't normally want their 
experiments to see the light of day, both literally and figuratively. 

	The general ache started to fade in favor of a sharper, more 
localized pain in his stomach and back, suggesting that he'd been 
pummeled into unconsciousness. One drawback to his new tolerance of 
tranquilizers, at least. Now that he thought of it, he had snippets and 
flashes of a large man in a dark suit throwing a fist into his gut and 
side, but he didn't dwell on the memory very long; he'd already lived 
through it once, and had no desire to live through it again.

	He tried to sit up, but the pain kept him from moving too much, 
and he reluctantly dropped himself back onto the cold floor. Would they 
care he was awake, he wondered? Would they send another thug to beat the 
crap out of him, so he'd stay unconscious? Or maybe since he was already 
in this facility, it didn't matter anymore what he heard. That idea 
chilled him more than the thought of another beating.

	He said Scully's name softly, his tone desperate. She wouldn't be 
able to find him; the number of guardian angels and informants they had 
left was a firm zero. Marita was missing, Skinner was collaborating with 
Krycek and who knew who else, and Fowley was dirty. The Lone Gunmen 
could've helped, possibly, but they'd gone to a Computer and Technology 
convention up in New York and had told him they would be gone for a few 
days. By the time they got back, the people who'd taken him would have 
done whatever they planned to do to him. 

	He had a brief thought of Tera, but dismissed it just as quickly. 
She only helped when it was convenient for her to do so, and certainly 
not when it jeopardized her anonymity. Her help would probably make 
things worse in the long run, not better.

	He wished he could see Scully just one last time, regrets over 
their last conversation running through his mind. If he'd known this 
would happen, he wouldn't have argued with her, wouldn't have tried to 
make her see his point of view when she wasn't ready to accept it. His 
enthusiasm had barreled over her rationalism, taking no heed of excuses 
or protests. Prove me wrong, he'd said, and now he was his own proof. 
Ironic, and yet so fitting, as well. Served him right.

	One of the presences in his mind began to grow sharper and more 
potent, an indication to him that someone was approaching. A quick dread 
filled him at the thought of another thug, but it was soon silenced by 
the realization that it was too disciplined, too precise. A doctor type 
of mind, he thought, or maybe a scientist.

	Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped a few more degrees, 
his mind already connecting the dots. Experiments. Gibson Praise. Proof. 
God module. A boy's timid phrase; "Butchers? Really?" ran through the 
cacophony of his mind. The only question Mulder had now was whether they 
needed him alive for the surgery, or dead.




Georgetown Memorial Hospital
1:03pm



	The psychiatric wing of the hospital was quiet and tranquil, a 
foil for the emotional state of one Federal Agent in particular...who 
was hearing for the first time that her partner was no longer there.

	"Well, if he's not here, where is he?"

	"You'd have to talk with the attending doctor on staff, Ma'am. I'm 
not authorized to give out that sort of information."

	Seething with anger, Scully resisted the urge to grab the woman by 
the shirt collar and shake the answer out of her. Then again, if Mulder 
had been taken by the wrong people...

	She blocked that thought out--no need to dwell on horrible 
scenarios without any facts to back it up. Of course, the thought of 
such events happening were the main reason she'd nearly crashed her car 
twice in getting to the hospital, but she wasn't in any mood to 
psychoanalyze herself.

	"Where is the attending doctor? Who is he?"

	Scully got that information in short order, and soon she was face 
to face with the same doctor she'd met only a few days before. 
Unfortunately, he confirmed her worst fears.

	"Mr. Mulder's psychiatrist came and had him transferred to another 
facility."

	Scully felt bile begin to rise in her throat. "Mulder doesn't have 
a psychiatrist."

	"Are you sure?"

	She gave the man an incredulous look. "I've been his partner for 
six years; If anyone would know, it'd be me. Can you tell me where he 
was transferred to?"

	He flipped through the folder. "Armitage Sanitarium, in Hamilton 
County, West Virginia. I thought it a little odd that his doctor would 
have a residency so far away, but the man's credentials checked out. Mr. 
Mulder wasn't in a position to ask, unfortunately--he was unconscious 
when they brought him out."

	Scully let out a deep sigh. She would be surprised if this 
Armitage place actually existed, though she held no illusions that 
Mulder would be there, even if it did. The doctor was looking at her in 
a mixture of confusion and sympathy, and not wanting to go into details, 
she gave him a wan smile to reassure him. She thanked him for his time, 
and asked that a copy of Mulder's file be sent to her. When his eyebrows 
raised at that, she only replied, "This has now become a kidnapping 
case, which means it's under the jurisdiction of the FBI. I need all the 
information you have on his condition, including any and all MRI scans. 
If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call," she said as she 
pressed a business card into his hand, and turned to leave.



	Tera had watched as they'd taken Mulder's unconscious form into 
the ambulance, and driven off in a general westerly direction. If it 
hadn't been for the fact that her mass prevented it, she would have 
altered her form into that of a bird of prey, and followed the ambulance 
from the air. However, a car would have to do in this case, and she 
managed to trail the vehicle ahead of her for several miles before 
traffic started cutting her off from her quarry. Then the dark sedan had 
pulled up behind her in the distance, and her thoughts had gone from 
pursuit to self-preservation.

	Now that it was finally dark outside, she made her way to Mulder's 
partner's apartment, hoping that maybe she could do what Tera couldn't.




Basement office, J. Edgar Hoover building
7:12pm



	The files had finally arrived by messenger, and Scully tore at the 
packaging with an energy that surprised her. Having spent most of the 
last 24 hours in a plane, she was in no condition mentally or physically 
to follow up on leads, let alone go out into the field. But she didn't 
have a choice, because the men who'd taken Mulder away wouldn't care 
that she needed sleep. Would, in fact, delight in it. 

	She pulled out her reading glasses when her eyes couldn't focus on 
the charts, hoping that her head wouldn't hit the desk from exhaustion 
before she found what she needed to find.

	A look at the MRI showed a marked similarity to Gibson Praise's 
own, although not at the same level. The god module was active, all 
right, but other areas of activity that showed up in Gibson's MRI didn't 
correspond in Mulder's. She wished that the boy's MRI hadn't been 
destroyed in the fire, but her memory was blessedly clear at this 
moment. She didn't know why Mulder didn't show the same level of 
development, but suspected it was why he'd been having those headaches.

	She almost didn't bother to look at the phony doctor's 
information--what good would it have done, after all?--but decided she 
needed to be thorough, especially since her mind wasn't at full 
attention. As she looked at the name on the form, however, the rush of 
adrenaline was roughly equivalent to the caffeine of ten cups of coffee;  
Dr. Richard Sosek.

	In its own way, it made an odd sort of sense--Sosek was already in 
DC, and was in the same field of study that Mulder happened to fall 
under. But where did the man's loyalties lie? He'd appeared to have some 
sort of moral center when they had spoken with him, but had it been an 
act? Her stomach lurched at the thought, not wanting to entertain the 
notion that Mulder was being experimented on at that moment. She had no 
time for guilt, now. If she couldn't save Mulder...

	Grabbing her car keys and the files, she headed back to her 
apartment to change, already trying to summon Andrea Brauman's phone 
number from memory.




	The phone hadn't rung more than a couple times before Andrea 
picked up the call. After a quick explanation for why she was calling, 
Scully asked Andrea to confirm or deny whether the facility listed on 
the form was the same one where she'd been taken.

	"Where is it?" Andrea asked.

	"In West Virginia. I think they've taken Mulder here as well, 
Andrea. It's listed as Armitage Sanitarium, but I don't--"

	"Armitage?" Andrea replied with a shaky voice. 

	Scully had a chill run down her spine. Was this the place, then? 
"Is that where they took you, Andrea?"

	"I remember...the doctors mentioning Armitage, but I didn't know
what it meant."

	"So, this *might* be the same place?"

	"Well, maybe. I can't be sure. But if you have the address, we can 
both head out there and find out, can't we?"

	What Andrea was proposing was seriously against FBI protocol--
involving citizens in a case. On the other hand, Scully was getting 
desperate. The longer Mulder was gone, the greater the chance that he 
wouldn't be coming back at all.

	"Can you get here? Or should I pick you up?"

	"I can be there in a half hour."




	The knock on Scully's door ten minutes later surprised her. Had 
Andrea miscalculated? But even so, it wasn't a hop, skip, and a jump to get to 
Georgetown, even without rush hour traffic. Doubt and panic started to build, 
even as she headed for the door. 

	She wasn't surprised when she didn't recognize the woman. Though 
the peephole distorted her features somewhat, she appeared to be Muslim. 
Sighing as she realized it was probably just a neighbor, she opened the 
door just enough to get a better look at her.

	Yellow-brown eyes peered at her through an opening in the woman's 
black veil and headdress, and while the skin color matched her 
expectations, Scully started to get the feeling that something wasn't 
right. 

	"Can I help you?" She asked instead, hoping to dismiss the woman 
quickly.

	"Yes, Agent Scully, I believe you can."



	Amused at the look of shock on the agent's face, Tera was glad 
that the veil hid her smile. She quickly sobered, however, when she 
remembered why she was here. "I need your help in finding Agent Mulder. 
He was taken from the hospital--"

	"Yes, I know," Scully interrupted, and Tera thought she could 
detect a slight sigh from Mulder's partner. She'd studied human behavior 
as well as any of her people, but this reaction was beyond her 
comprehension. The woman should be upset, shouldn't she?

	"Aren't you interested in finding him, Agent Scully?"

	The other woman looked at her, stunned. "What makes you say that?"

	"Your sigh--it indicates lack of interest."

	Scully leaned on the doorframe, obviously tired. "It's a long 
story, really. Come on inside, before the neighbors get curious."

	Tera complied easily, pulling out her scanning device and waving 
it around the apartment. She snorted in surprise at the fact that there 
weren't any listening devices in Scully's apartment, and told her as 
much.

	Again, the agent looked somewhat melancholy. When pressed, she 
replied, "They don't need bugs; They've got a blasted chip in my neck. 
You should know that though, shouldn't you?" Tera found, to her 
surprise, that the woman now had a gun trained on her.

	"I beg your pardon?"

	"You're one of them, aren't you?"

	"Them?"

	"Don't pretend to be ignorant--you know what I mean. How do you 
know Mulder was taken? How did you know where he was at all? And who the 
hell are you, anyway?"

	"To answer your questions in reverse order; First, you may call me 
Tera. Second, I've been watching his progress from afar for some time, 
but I was more involved in this particular case than previous ones. 
Third, I was there when it happened."

	"And you didn't stop them?" Scully's voice was incredulous.

	"I'm not as powerful as you probably think I am," Tera answered, 
and pulled the veil from her face, allowing Scully to see what she 
meant.

	The stunned look on her face was a sight to behold. Tera lamented 
that she wasn't able to express that same level of emotion, feeling that 
she was missing out on an unique experience.

	"You're...not human."

	"Yes," Tera replied, letting Scully absorb that fact. "I don't 
shape-shift as well as my comrades."

	The sorrowful tone to her voice pulled Scully from her trance. 
"Who *are* you?"

	"Maybe this will help explain," she said, and faster than Scully 
could blink, in the middle of her living room, there was suddenly a very 
large and very white wolf standing on top of the black robes Tera had 
just been wearing.

	"Oh my God."

	The wolf cocked its head, as if sizing up the woman still pointing 
a gun at it. When Scully fully realized what this meant, she dropped her 
arm to her side in surrender. Blowing a hole in this particular wolf 
would only get *her* killed.

	"OK, you can change back."

	The wolf changed into a human-like female, pale and gaunt. With 
agile, slender fingers, Tera quickly clothed herself and looked at her 
with glowing eyes. "Do you believe, now?"

	The reaction the agent had was one Tera didn't expect. Tears 
sprang to her eyes as she finally caved in to her emotions, her 
carefully prepared facade shattering into unretrievable pieces. "My 
faith is a lie," she answered back, her voice a whisper. The woman 
reached for her necklace, and Tera saw for the first time the cross 
pendant. 

	Suddenly feeling foolish, she said, "You're a Believer?"

	Scully shook her head. "Not anymore. You proved it to me--it's all 
been a lie."

	"No," Tera said emphatically. "It's all been the truth, Agent 
Scully."



Hamilton County, WV
Earlier that day



	The door opened noisily, the hinges creaking in complaint from 
lack of use. Mulder tensed as the light beamed in from the hallway, 
temporarily blinding him as he tried to see the figure standing in the 
doorway. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed the man had 
greying hair, average looking features, slight build...

	...And looked just like Richard Sosek.

	"Agent Mulder--I hadn't expected to see you again so soon. And I 
definitely never expected you to end up here, but here we are," Sosek 
said, his tone matter of fact.

	"Yeah," Mulder retorted, "here we are."

	With a kind of sympathetic pity, Sosek smiled slightly and 
replied, "You're important, Agent Mulder. I don't think you realize how 
important you are."

	Mulder looked at him, puzzled. "I don't understand."

	Sosek's thoughts spilled into his mind, helping him understand. 
Before Sosek could vocalize his thoughts, Mulder blurted out in shock, 
"What did you bastards do to me?" 

	Not realizing that Mulder wouldn't need the answer vocalized, 
Sosek answered him. "*We* didn't do anything, Agent Mulder. If there's 
anyone to thank--or blame--it's the Russians."

	Mulder nodded dully, having seen this in the man's mind, already. 
But Sosek continued on, regardless. "Your transformation isn't complete, 
however--you need to be exposed to more of the cosmic radiation."

	Mulder's voice was bitter as he asked his next question, knowing 
that the man didn't have a true answer. "And what will I become, doctor? 
An alien-human hybrid, or simply more than human?"

	Sosek looked him for a long while, then responded in a serious, 
almost desperate tone, "You'll become the only hope mankind has, Fox."




Scully's apartment, Georgetown
7:56pm



	"What do you mean, 'it's all been the truth'?" Scully replied in a 
mocking tone. "Don't even try to patronize me."

	The alien woman facing her had the presence of mind to look 
ashamed. Scully was still reeling from it all--the fact that she was 
talking to an actual alien, which proved that Mulder had been right, and 
she'd been wrong.

	Wrong. It seemed like she was always wrong. Only a handful of 
times had her science successfully explained events. More often than 
not, it was Mulder's theory that was proven--or assumed--correct. In 
previous years, it would've only annoyed her. Now, she was standing 
amidst the shards of her beliefs.

	But then, rising from the shards, her beliefs dragged her rational 
mind from hiding. If God didn't exist, what had happened to Kevin 
Crider, then? How had she known where to find him? What was the being 
that had appeared to her outside her car one night, and then later to 
claim the soul of a teenage girl who wasn't meant to be...just like 
Emily...

	She felt a hand pressing on her shoulder, and looked up to find 
the tall female watching her in compassion. "I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I 
should have explained myself better."

	"I don't know what that has to do with anything," Scully snapped 
back, her anger building.

	"It means that I should have told you who I am...and who my people 
are. You're thinking that your faith is meaningless, but I'm trying to 
tell you that it means everything. What you've seen was not a lie."

	Scully gazed at her, astounded in spite of herself. "How did--"

	"--I know? My people have the ability to see into others' minds, 
know their thoughts. And you're not wrong, Agent Scully. If anything, 
you're more right than your partner."

	"Could you explain that without all the cryptic rhetoric?"

	The female smiled, her thin mouth straining against unwilling 
flesh. "Of course. My people are being misguided, just as yours are. Our 
purpose is to serve and protect, not conquer. We only--"

	Her statement was interrupted by another knock at the door. Scully 
glanced at her watch, and realized that it had to be Andrea. Well, at 
least she wasn't late, Scully thought, although her timing could have 
been better.

	Scully confirmed it was Andrea before opening the door, and only 
realized her mistake when she heard Andrea gasp in shock. Still in a 
state of shock, she'd totally forgotten that Andrea didn't know anything 
about the aliens--was, in fact, a woman whose own faith in God was 
likely being shaken at this very moment. With a heavy heart, Scully 
looked back at Tera and then to Andrea in penitent sorrow, wishing she 
hadn't been such a moron. But when the black robed woman spoke, her 
world spun once again.

	"As I was saying, Agent Scully, we only wish to serve our God, the 
one who made the heavens and the Earth. And who created the ones we were 
created to serve--mankind."



End of Part Seven


Genesis of Revelation (8/12) by H Lynn

Disclaimer in part one

*************************



Armitage Sanitarium
Hamilton County, WV



	Mulder didn't know what to say, truly. The idea that he was the 
last hope for mankind made him want to laugh. Him? A federal agent that 
had spent the last ten or so years of his life searching for a truth 
that was beyond anything he could've imagined? His search for the truth 
had ended up killing his father and his partner's sister, plus had his 
partner abducted, experimented on, with the results of said experiments 
leaving her barren and unable to live a long life without the 
implantation of a computer chip in the back of her neck. If this was 
some sort of fate or destiny, then the cosmic entity responsible had a 
very twisted mind.

	Dr. Sosek didn't seem to notice that Mulder was deep in thought. 
"I don't know what this means for you, honestly. I don't know how far 
this will go, this transformation. But I do know this--you'll continue 
to experience the pain if you don't let us help you."

	"You mean the artifacts."

	"Yes," Sosek answered, sighing, "the artifacts. You have to learn 
how to control and focus what you have, like Gibson does."

	"Gibson was most likely born into this, doctor. His mind is young 
enough to adapt; Mine isn't."

	"But the changes--"

	"I'm not talking about the physical ones," Mulder interjected, 
growing frustrated by the minute. "I mean the psychological ones. Even 
if you accelerated it, I haven't been conditioned to handle it."

	"Yes, but still--"

	The doctor's voice prattled on, but Mulder didn't hear it. 
Couldn't hear it, unfortunately, because the wave of thoughts cresendoed 
in his mind, the once-subtle buzzing in his head now crowding it, 
shoving all personal thoughts aside.

	...I hope this'll be good enough...

	...Why can't I ever get any recognition...

	...Fish or chicken for dinner...

	...Does she like me...

	...I can't take this anymore...

	...Help me...

	...Was that last thought mine? Who are you? Get out of my head!

	And suddenly, Mulder's mind snapped back to the present, words 
still running through his head, but at a softer, less urgent tone than 
before. Who was that? Were there others like him, here...?

	"Doctor..." he lifted his head, trying to plead with him for more 
answers, but the doctor was gone.




Scully's apartment
8:02pm



	"What did you say?"

	Andrea Brauman stood there, stunned. Agent Scully had asked her to 
come over as soon as possible, and she'd moved heaven and earth to get 
here...only to find some sort of mutated human in the woman's apartment, 
who told them both that she was something other than human. Scully 
closed the door behind her, and Andrea couldn't help feeling trapped.

	The non-human tilted her head at her, reminding her instantly of a 
dog she once owned. She opened her mouth to respond, but it was Scully 
who answered. "Nothing, Andrea. It's not important."

	"Not important?" The pale woman piped up, seemingly offended. 
"It's very important. And considering this girl is also a Believer, she 
should know as well as you."

	"Know what?" Andrea asked, despite Scully's glare.

	"That my people are here as servants--or I should say, were meant 
to be servants. Humans are the Chosen of God...we are not."

	"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Scully cut in, "You're not saying 
you're an angel, are you?"

	"No. Merely a fellow servant of God. We were created in the same 
vein as angels, as you call them, and occasionally we are mistaken for 
them, but we aren't the same. Only our goal is the same."

	"So, what does this have to do with an alien artifact that has a 
passage from Genesis on it?"

	"That was nothing more than our own copy of your Bible. I'm sure 
your partner thought that it meant the Bible came from us, but that's 
far from the truth."

	"I don't understand," Scully said, her tone confused. "If your 
people are supposed to serve us, why are they trying to wipe us off the 
face of the planet?'

	Andrea felt as if she'd entered an episode of the Twilight Zone. 
What were these people talking about? An alien invasion? Or Judgment 
Day? 

	The pale woman gave her a patient look. "As I tried to explain 
before, our people have the same problem as yours--corrupt rulers. They 
don't want to follow, to serve...they want the same kind of self-
determination that God gave to mankind."

	"They want to determine their own fate," Scully replied numbly.

	"Exactly. I think you even have a phrase for it..."

	Andrea inhaled sharply as she suddenly understood. "You mean, 
'feeling like a red-headed step-child'? No offense, Agent Scully."

	"None taken," she responded. "They weren't God's chosen, so if 
they couldn't have that spot, no one would."

	The non-human nodded. "But not all of us feel that way. In fact, 
the majority of my people didn't even know until more recently."

	"Which would be the Resistance." 

	Andrea saw the thin woman nod again. "The man you knew 
as Jeremiah Smith was one of my compatriots. However, there are 
others from a different group than us, who are more militaristic. We're 
trying to keep their side appeased, but they take measures into their 
own hands, and sometimes they do as much harm as the Colonists."

	Andrea's mind was swimming with the overload of information--she 
couldn't process it all. Aliens who were supposed to protect us, but 
instead trying to kill us all? And others were opposing them, even 
though they were at odds with each other...

	"Sounds like you're no better than us," Andrea declared simply.

	Scully turned to her, a look of surprise and amazement on her 
face. "You're right. They aren't."

	"I never said we were."

	"No, Tera...you don't quite understand. For so many years, the 
myths about alien life always had one constant--that they were superior 
to us. You've just taken decades of alien theories and turned them on 
their head."

	"I have?"

	For the first time Andrea had seen that night, Scully smiled. "You 
have. And I'd thank you if I weren't on the verge of a nervous 
breakdown. But for right now, I think we need to get back to the main 
reason we're all here."

	The pale woman named Tera grimaced as best she could. "Finding 
Agent Mulder."




Route 50
30 miles from the West Virginia border
8:45pm



	Once again, Scully's car was the main vehicle of choice. It would 
have irked her in other circumstances, considering she'd just gotten a 
new one after sacrificing the old one in front of an oncoming train, and 
was trying to keep the mileage low. But when it came down to Mulder's 
life or the increasing devaluation of her Dodge Intrepid, there wasn't 
any doubt which was much more important.

	The miles went by numbingly, small towns turning into hamlets, 
then into lone houses crammed up along the slope of ever-increasing 
mountains, threatening to make a jump for it. A lonely diner touted its 
cola brand affiliation proudly, its darkened interior speaking volumes 
about the pace of the local area. Only bars and motels were open this 
late at night, the red and blue neon the only signs of life on a long, 
winding stretch of road.

	It could almost be a metaphor for her present situation, she 
thought idly as she squinted at the headlights of an oncoming car. 
Options for explaining all of this were being closed off, leaving only 
two possible explanations--Mulder's, and Tera's.

	In all honesty, she favored Tera's, though the scientist in her 
balked vehemently. It made sense, to her spiritual side; everything had 
a purpose. Nothing was unaccounted for, nothing was out of control. It 
was a calming, reassuring thought, and despite her scientific 
objectivity, it was one she wanted to believe. Not that aliens had 
arguably created the most widespread religion on earth, or had somehow 
been the progenitors of the human race.

	Mulder's theory, while equally fantastic, was ironically the more 
logical and scientific of the two. His could be quantified, tested, 
proven...but the idea that God had created these aliens as protectors of 
mankind could not. Tera's theory required faith.

	Scully sighed disgustedly, torn between her own rationale and her 
beliefs. She wanted to believe, but the scientist in her wanted that 
ever elusive proof. 

	"I understand your concerns, Agent Scully, but there are times 
when our minds cloud over our hearts and souls."

	It was Tera, her voice coming from behind. Andrea was settled in 
the passenger seat, dozing while the car continued its winding path 
through the Appalachians.

	"Would you mind not getting into my head? My thoughts are not 
yours to listen in on."

	"I--I'm sorry. I didn't intend to pry, but I could hear them so 
clearly...but, it doesn't matter. Let me just say this; You believe in 
God solely on faith, not proof. Yet, you need proof in order to believe 
in His works. Ask yourself why that is, and maybe you can solve what's 
been troubling you."

	With that, Tera fell silent. And against Scully's better judgment, 
she did as Tera asked. 

	There's been so much in my life that's been based on faith, and 
yet, when it's asked of me, why do I balk at it? 

	I know why, a small voice inside her head answered, sounding 
suspiciously like her own. It's because you only want to face the truth 
when it's convenient. You don't want to take responsibility for your 
beliefs.

	Angrily, she tried to deny it...and couldn't. In Kevin Crider's 
case, she'd had an advantage to believing--it saved the boy's life. With 
the disfigured girls, it was to solve their bizarre deaths and to try 
and prevent the deaths of the others. Her faith served a purpose. 

	But otherwise? Often, it only got in the way. Focusing on the 
scientific rather than the spiritual, she recalled that Mulder often 
supported the role that should've been hers. Somewhere along the way, 
science had become her religion.

	That had changed, however, with the remission of her cancer. She 
swore it was going to be different this time. She wasn't going to 
discard her faith when it wasn't welcome, or to put it on the shelf to 
be dusted off only occasionally. But her well-meant intentions couldn't 
stand in the face of her partner's lack of openness in this one area of 
her life. He had even scolded her for losing her objectivity, when in 
truth he'd lost his own. 

	What made it harder was the fact that she loved him in spite of 
it. And in the depth of her soul, she knew he loved her back just the 
same. It was an exhilarating and scary thought, yet not uncommon. She 
often considered whether she and Mulder could ever have a future aside 
from their present partnership. 

	That idea was destroyed, however, by the knowledge that he would 
reject Tera's theory outright. And in a way, he'd be rejecting her, too-
-rejecting a side of her that he didn't like. 

	The realization was like a slap in the face. Could she have been 
pushing away her faith solely for Mulder's approval? Maybe, even, for 
the chance they could be more than friends? A small shred of hope 
bloomed; if Mulder could see what the truth really was...

	But that idea was futile. He'd had proof right before his eyes, 
before, and hadn't believed. And Mulder was nothing if not stubborn when 
he had his own theory to proclaim.

	She pushed back the feeling of despair this thought caused and 
could only hope, as she thought back briefly to a conversation with a 
priest from long ago, that this time his eyes would be opened.
	


Armitage Sanitarium
8:51 p.m.



	The federal agent in question was sure he was losing his mind. 
First, voices and thoughts would beat their way into his skull, and now, 
some of those thoughts were speaking directly to him. Or at least, 
that's how it felt.

	[Are you there? Can you hear me?]

	'Yes, I can hear you. Now will you shut up?' Mulder thought, 
wondering if it was only to himself.

	[There's no need to be rude.]

	'Great. First I'm trapped in a cell, with no lights and little 
warmth, not to mention having other people's thoughts beating my brain 
like a basketball on a gym floor, and now I get critics?'

	[Would you mind keeping those thoughts to yourself?]

	He laughed cheerlessly. 'Sure, just as soon as everyone else's 
stop cramming themselves into my skull.'

	After a short pause, the internal voice replied, [Here, try this.]

	The idea rolled effortlessly into his head, and desperate for 
anything that would help, he tried it. First thing was to focus on the 
external, not the internal--if in discomfort, focus on the pain. If hot 
or cold, focus on your body's reaction to the temperature. Within a few 
seconds, Mulder found the voices had receded somewhat, although not 
completely. Unfortunately, he now couldn't hear his benefactor. Whoever 
he was.

	Debating the merits of the sustained barrage in lieu of 
information, the decision wasn't a hard one.

	'Thanks, it worked,'  Mulder called out to the voice he hoped was 
still there.

	[Glad to hear it. My name is Nathan, by the way.]

	'Thanks, Nathan. So, you were brought here, too?'

	[Not exactly.]	 

	'You're here voluntarily, then?'

	[Voluntarily isn't the word I'd use, but I didn't have to be 
beaten unconscious.]

	'Lucky you.'

	[Do you know why you're here?]

	Mulder's tone turned bitter, 'Probably because we have the 
same problem.'

	This seemed to confuse Nathan. [You can't tell, can you?]

	'Tell what?' Mulder asked tiredly.

	[I'm one of the Protectors. You're one of the Chosen.]
	[
	Mulder blinked, trying to track what the man was saying. 'Being 
one of the Chosen...is that a good thing?'

	[The best thing one can be. I'll always be inferior to the Chosen, 
due to the fact that I was born a Protector. But I have learned to live 
with my fate. Unfortunately, my brethren have not.]

	Thousands of ideas ran through Mulder's head after hearing this. 
Chosen, Protectors, brethren...

	No, it couldn't be. It was too easy, too ironic, 
too...*something.*

	'Nathan, are you...human?'

	Nathan's hesitation was all the confirmation--or in this case, 
denial--Mulder needed. 

	'Are humans the "Chosen"?'

	[Yes.]

	'Are...are your people, the Protectors?'

	[In a way.]

	'In a way? What the hell does *that* mean?'

	[It means that some have accepted their fate, and some haven't.]

	Mulder was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he 
was speaking telepathically with an alien, when Nathan asked a question 
of his own.

	[Mulder, how is it possible that you can talk with your mind, like 
we can?]

	'That's the question of the hour, actually. Apparently, it's 
something in my brain that was turned on. How can *you* do it?'

	[I just can. We all can, it's a part of who we are.]

	'Like the black oily substance?'

	Nathan laughed, the sound reminding him of bells in the wind.
[That's like saying my arm makes me telepathic. No, it's more 
complicated than that.]

	'Explain it to me, then.'

	Mulder felt a faint emotion, almost like regret. [I can't. I have 
no way to explain in your science.]	

	'My partner, Dana Scully--she's a scientist. You could try to 
explain it to her.'

	[No. She wouldn't understand.]

	The voices started growing in Mulder's mind, as his control over 
thinking above it began to slip. He sighed in disgust as he realized 
he'd been too focused on Nathan's words, the effort draining him of 
strength and concentration.

	'I--I think I need to focus without any dialogue, Nathan. But can 
you tell me one thing?'

	[If I can, I will.]

	'I can sense you above me, but where are you? Can you move 
freely?'

	[I'm on Level C, but I can't go any farther down than this.]

	'Farther down is higher security?'

	[Correct.]

	'Damn.'

	[But even if I could get down to your level, it'd be suicide. And 
I'm sorry, but I can't sacrifice my reason for being here, even if you 
are a telepathic Chosen one. Good-bye, and good luck, Mulder.]

	And with that, the voice in his head went silent.



Route 50
9:15 p.m.



	Andrea was now awake, trying to get a feel for where they were by 
staring out the car window at the darkened land around them. She wished 
she'd gotten a good night's sleep last night, but it had been riddled 
with half-remembered dreams and bouts of insomnia. The rhythmic sound of 
the tires riding on pavement lulled her to a deep sleep, but now she 
wished she'd stayed awake. Now, she had no idea where they were, or if 
they were on the right track.

	Belatedly, she realized nothing outside would help her remember if 
this was the same route she'd taken to the facility, if this was truly 
where Agent Mulder was being held. Closing her eyes again, but not in 
sleep, she listened carefully for the sounds around her.

	There had been a long bridge, where the wind had whistled strongly 
across the side of the van. It had taken a minute, if not more, to cross 
it. Then, a few minutes later they went into a long tunnel, probably cut 
all the way through the mountainside. But from the looks of it, they 
weren't near any such landmarks.

	When she asked if they were approaching any bridges or tunnels 
soon, Scully frowned and said, "We already did, Andrea. You were asleep 
the entire time."

	Her heart lightened at the news. So, they were on the right track, 
after all. "I remember that from when I came here, a couple years ago. I 
think I remember a factory, too--there was a horrible stench in the van 
for what seemed like forever."

	"We went past that, too. Looked like a metal fabrication plant. 
Anything else you remember?"

	"Ah, not really. I know there were train tracks shortly before we 
got there, but nothing else really stands out."

	Scully sighed. "Did you have pleasant dreams?"

	Andrea couldn't help but smile at the agent's real meaning. "I 
hope they were good. I don't remember anything more than a couple of 
impressions. It was probably harmless."

	"Probably?"

	Andrea shrugged. "I'll know when I get there, so to speak."

	Scully seemed to take this in stride. Maybe all the years working 
on the X-Files had given her an appreciation for the things she couldn't 
control.

	"So, Agent Scully, what's all this about Agent Mulder?"



	After several minutes explaining to Andrea the need-to-know basics 
of Mulder's dilemma, Scully's worry multiplied. It wasn't Andrea's 
fault, really--they hadn't had time to explain everything to her in the 
apartment--but now all Scully could think about was where Mulder was, 
whether he was all right, if there were things being done to him like 
when he'd been held prisoner in Tunguska...

	That last thought hung on tenaciously, and she wondered why. Was 
it just the bizarre similarities? Or was it something else?

	She still hadn't figured out what exactly had caused Mulder's 
sudden ability. Could the experiments have done something to him, caused 
him to be more susceptible to certain elements, like radiation? Or maybe 
the vaccine hadn't worked as thoroughly as they'd thought? She sighed 
heavily, not sure if it mattered now. Mulder's condition was mostly 
likely permanent, if the tests were any indication. The only thing she 
could think of was the possibility of stopping the process the same way 
it had started--using some sort of radiation or vaccine to stop the 
access to his so-called god module. Clearly, he wasn't dealing with it 
as well as Gibson--but no one could expect a man of nearly forty to take 
almost-instantaneous telepathy very well.

	Shuddering at the mental image of Mulder in his cell from only a 
couple days ago, she prayed that he would still be sane when she and the 
others finally arrived. And with the prospect of trying to enter a 
guarded facility, she prayed for a divine intervention on her--and 
Mulder's--behalf, with an intensity and desperation that surprised her.



End of Part Eight


Genesis of Revelation (9/12) by H Lynn

Disclaimer in part one

*************************



Armitage Sanitarium
9:22 p.m.



	Cold.

	That was the only physical sensation Mulder had left. With his 
wrists bound behind him in handcuffs, his arms had fallen asleep. The 
ice-like floor had made his legs numb, and the very air seeped the heat 
from his body, leaving him shivering in the dark.

	That, and he needed to go to the bathroom badly. 

	Without realizing the inherent danger, he started to drift into 
the thoughts entering his mind, the flow sweeping him along and pulling 
him away from the reality of the cell.

	[dangerous to have someone here who's not ready]

	[why haven't the forms arrived]

	[need to check on that]

	[wonder how the patient down below is doing]

	Mulder, in the midst of drifting, caught the possible significance 
of that thought and latched onto it, hoping against hope that the person 
would come to check on him.

	'Please, please check on me.'

	[should I check on him?]

	'Yesyesyes.'

	[boss might not like it]

	'Boss won't like it if he's dead.'

	[but the boss would probably have my head if I don't]

	'Do it.'

	[couldn't hurt...he's still out, most likely]

	'It's safe, it's okay.'

	[better get the keys from Security]

	Mulder sighed in immense relief, still in disbelief of what had 
just happened. And from somewhere deep within, a wry comment made it 
past his lips.

	"Obi-Wan Kenobi, eat your heart out."



	In short order, the man whose mind he coerced showed up, and was 
surprised to find the 'patient' fully awake, if not fully coherent.

	"Hey, Whammy man, what's a guy gotta do to take a leak 'round 
here?"

	The orderly frowned, his white uniform having no decoration or 
name tags on it. Sandy blond hair was cut severely short, giving the 
impression that the man was military. "You need to go?"

	Mulder only nodded, now suddenly afraid to make a snide comment 
and have the guy leave him here, mind whammy or no. The other man sighed 
in resignation, obviously not thinking bathroom duty would be one of the 
tasks he'd have to perform.

	"Can you stand?"

	"Lessee," Mulder said as he tried to move his legs. Needles of 
agony pricked along his calves and thighs, the sweet pain of awakening 
muscles. He sucked in his breath, trying not to gasp from the pain. With 
a weak rubbery quality that he still managed to revel in, his legs held 
his weight. The orderly gasped in surprise at the frigidness of Mulder's 
arm. "Man, they sure haven't been turning on the heat in here, have 
they?"

	Mulder chuckled sardonically, the pain giving him the focus he 
needed to stay in the here and now. "And I even paid extra for the 
deluxe suite. Any chance I could get something a little warmer than a 
hospital gown? I'd watch eight hours of figure skating for a pair of 
pants."

	"Make that curling, and you might have yourself a deal," the blond 
man uttered under his breath, looking out the doorway before leading 
Mulder  out. "Bathroom's just down and across the hall."

	"Thanks."

	"Don't mention it. And I truly mean that, by the way."

	"Gotcha."

	While the man had a sense of common decency, he wasn't about to 
give Mulder an opportunity to escape, even if he wasn't in any condition 
to overpower two men and figure out the security system. He unlocked one 
cuff and quickly locked it around one of the exposed pipes. As Mulder 
relieved himself, the orderly scrounged up something that looked like a 
white version of hospital scrubs.

	A little embarrassed at having to be watched while he changed, he 
ignored the man's sharp intake of breath at the horrible reddish purple 
marks along his back, and tried to cover it as quickly as possible.

	"Who did that to you?"

	"Same people who brought me here."

	The other man fell silent, contemplating this.

	"You're thinking that you shouldn't have done this, helping a guy 
who's locked up under tight security."

	The man said nothing.

	"You're wondering if you're going to get into trouble for this. I 
can't honestly say whether you will or you won't, but you've done more 
for me than anyone else has in the past 48 hours. Thank you."

	The blond man grimaced. "Like I said, just don't mention it to 
anyone."

	Mulder nodded, and the man put the handcuffs back on...but this 
time, in front.



	The orderly, or Mike, as his friends and family called him, was 
troubled. He tried to get back to checking on the other patients, but 
the sad image of the man downstairs prompted him to find out more about 
who he was and why he was there. And for that, he decided to check with 
his supervisor.

	His new supervisor was in the break room, reading a 
newspaper and sipping a cup of the barely passable coffee someone had 
made that evening. "Hey, Nathan?"

	Nathan looked up, his dark brown eyes emotionless. His black hair 
was longer than Mike's, but only by an inch or so. Slight of build, he 
could have been a track & field type in his earlier years, but the 
paleness of his skin told a story of libraries and studying. 

	"Yes, Michael?"

	Mike tried to not roll his eyes--Nathan continued to insist on 
using his full first name. "There's a guy down in the basement, under 
severe lock and key. What's the deal?"

	"He's not our concern."

	"Well, yeah, sure. I just heard he's--"

	"You didn't 'hear' anything. You went down to see him."

	How on earth...? "I don't know--"

	"--what you're talking about? Please, Michael. I have the records 
from Security. You signed in."

	Mike felt indignation creep into his voice. "Is there a problem 
with that, Nathan?"

	The dark-haired man took another sip. "Not unless you make a habit 
of it. See that you don't."

	"But who'll take care of him? He was pretty badly beaten. The room 
they have him in doesn't even have a bed, or a toilet."

	"I'm sure it's only temporary," Nathan replied, even as his eyes 
focused off in the distance. Mike and the others called this his 
'spacing out moment', where he looked like he was trying to discover the 
secrets of the ancients by staring at blank walls.

	"I hope so, Nathan, because he needs attention, soon."

	Nathan made no indication that he'd heard that remark, so Mike 
left, feeling like a fool at wasting his time with the supervisor. He 
didn't see the other man's expression turn into one of piercing 
revelation, nor hear the soft sigh that seemed to exhale from his soul.



Route 50
9:40 p.m.



	Tera was concerned for the two humans she was riding with. Both 
seemed to be in deep turmoil over recent events, and she felt no little 
shame in having been a part of it. Andrea, in particular, was worrying 
about a dream she'd had, and the consequences of it, if it came true.

	"Andrea?" Tera ventured softly.

	The young woman turned to face her, curious. "Yes?"

	"Do you have prophetic dreams?"

	She blanched, but replied, "Kind of. I wouldn't call them that, 
though."

	"Why not?"

	"Because it isn't anything as important as prophecy--just mundane 
things in my life. Well, except for more recently, anyway."

	Tera saw glimpses of what Andrea meant, in her mind. The girl was 
also concerned, though, with her ability to dream, and where it came 
from.

	"Andrea, your dreams aren't from any other power than God's."

	Surprised, the young woman stared at her. "How do you know that?"

	"Because if it were otherwise, I'd be able to tell."

	"You mean...spirits?"

	Scully glanced at Andrea, puzzled. But she said nothing.

	"Yes, exactly," Tera answered, eager to ease the girl's mind.

	She watched as Andrea sat back into her seat, staring out the 
windshield at the darkness beyond. Her thoughts were mixed--relief at 
knowing the source, but scared for the possibilities and detriments for 
having an uncommon gift. Tera decided to let her be to figure this out 
on her own. Her reason for being here had nothing to do with making up 
someone else's mind, or determining a person's path for them.

	A deep melancholy grabbed onto her as she tried to push darkening 
thoughts aside. No need to dwell on it now--she'd accepted her life as a 
servant, and knew what was asked of her. 

	Something similar to a sigh escaped from her thin lips, but 
neither of the women she traveled with caught the gesture. Maybe that 
was for the best.




Armitage Sanitarium
9:47 p.m.



	The artifacts sat on the metal tray, the only tools needed for the 
procedure to be performed. Looking harmless and more like chunks of 
pavement than mysterious fragments, they were the key to advancing a 
part of the project where Richard Sosek had spent much of his life--to 
have humans and aliens on the same level. To that end, he'd researched 
psychic phenomena for years, trying to find a biological source for the 
ability. Finding everything to the contrary of what he expected had been 
a shock to him personally, and a blow for his department. Funding had 
already been curtailed and in the process of removal when Gibson Praise 
had appeared, a perfect telepath whose ability was rooted in science, 
rather than the mysticism and spiritual realm he was used to facing. It 
was a wondrous find; one that was nearly destroyed by the Elders in a 
moment of panic and irrationality. 

	Experimenting on Gibson had been a great moment for his career, 
and a vital step for the Project. The boy held the key to creating a 
level playing field for all mankind, if only he could figure out *how* 
the boy's God module had been activated. After the boy's disappearance, 
several experiments and methods on other subjects had proved fruitless.

	And then, Fox Mulder had inadvertently shown him the way.

	He wouldn't have guessed that the federal agent who'd asked for 
his help only a couple weeks ago would end up helping him instead. Now, 
the only thing Sosek had to do was to push this to the next level, 
whatever that happened to be.

	"Security, have one of the orderlies bring the patient in Room 3-F 
to the medical bay."



	Sitting alone for the moment, Nathan tried to enjoy the breather 
while his mind stubbornly refused him the chance. He felt horrible, 
stricken with guilt from what some might call a conscience, but the 
truth of which he knew full well. 

	He had erred in his actions regarding the human telepath in the 
basement. When the orderly had brought up Mulder's treatment, he'd 
turned his thoughts towards the human, scanning his recent memory. The 
truth poured into him in that moment, seeing what had happened--and why 
Sosek couldn't ever get his hands on the Federal Agent.

	Mulder was more than the typical human guinea pig Sosek 
brought in--there was a purpose and a plan to all of this, and Nathan 
felt ashamed. He'd been present when Mulder had been beaten, and had
thought him nothing more than another poor soul who'd been changed
by the Colonists. Consumed with his own mission, he'd failed to 
recognize the man's significance. Now, he might have to compromise his 
own mission in order to save him. But how was going to free Mulder from 
this place, considering how tight the security was?

	With a suddenness that jolted him upright, his name was called via 
the PA system, with a brief instruction to call Security. Crossing the 
room to the phone, he punched in Security's extension and heard a gruff 
voice answer on the other end.

	"This is Nathan."

	"Dr. Sosek wants you to send someone down to the basement, Room 
3-F. The patient is being taken to the medical bay."

	"At this hour?" Nathan asked, incredulous.

	"Don't ask me, I'm just passing the message along." The gruff-
sounding man then hung up, his task done.

	Nathan hung up on his end, stunned in spite of himself. Here was 
his opportunity, neatly handed to him and only missing a bright red bow. 
And he instantly knew what to do.




Hamilton County, WV
9:50 p.m.



	It had taken them about two hours to drive to West Virginia, but 
to Scully, it had felt more like five. With Mulder's condition up in the 
air, each minute was precious and vital. She had no idea if he'd 
continued to deteriorate, or even if he was truly here, at all. 
Regardless, she would be finding out in a handful of minutes; They'd 
gone over the tracks from an abandoned line from the coal mining days, 
and Andrea claimed that they were nearly there. 

	If Armitage was a legal front for the Project, there wasn't anyway 
they'd let her see Mulder. Tera had explained that she was going to be 
the one to distract the guards while they tried to find Mulder, but she 
hadn't clarified how she planned to do that. When Scully pressed her on 
it, Tera only shrugged.

	Scully sighed in mild disgust. It was bad enough that she'd 
brought a civilian into this, but now her main ally wasn't sharing 
information. Could it get any worse?

	She stopped herself from answering that question. She didn't want 
to know, and didn't want to tempt fate. As it was, their prospects were 
pretty dim. All Scully had planned to do was to show her badge and 
demand to see her partner. She hoped whatever Tera had planned was a lot 
better than that.



	The cell's door opened for the third time since he'd arrived here, 
a sign that he wasn't sure boded well. However, the man's thoughts 
were familiar, and his trepidation eased somewhat at the sight of the 
slight, dark-haired man pushing a wheelchair.

	"Nathan? What are you doing here?".

	"It's time to go, Mr. Mulder."



	The dark green Intrepid pulled up into the sanitarium's visitor 
parking lot, the only lot not closed off by a chain link fence. Aside 
from an unlit road sign, there was no indication of the building's 
identity. Looking like an old hospital from the forties, the vaguely Art 
Deco facade was clean but worn. The building sat some distance from the 
road, due to the hilly land and the need for as much flat space for 
parking as possible. The mountain-side ended near to the back of the 
sanitarium, giving the feeling as if the building were set in a 
defensive position. Scully didn't think it was too unlikely, considering 
the sanitarium's possible true purpose.

	All three women left the car and headed for the entrance, Tera's 
shawl pulled up around her head and face. Scully glanced back at Andrea, 
seeing the younger woman with her hands jammed nervously into her 
windbreaker's pockets and looking around as if she expected an attack.

	Scully briefly thought about calling for back-up, but Skinner 
couldn't be trusted. The local law enforcement would only get involved 
unless their was a problem, which Scully was sure she wouldn't be able 
to prove to their satisfaction. For all she knew, they were a part of it 
as well.

	She quickly shook her head at the paranoid thought, more sure than 
ever that Mulder's ways were rubbing off on her. And she quickly 
swallowed down the sudden melancholy and despair that surfaced when 
she'd thought of him.



	What everyone at the sanitarium called the basement was, in fact, 
the bottom level of a deep underground complex that went into the 
mountain-side, then up into the mountain itself. The original building 
had been built back when the Project had first started, one of the first 
places the immunizations began. Little did the general population know 
that the entire Appalachian region was a hot bed of Project activity. No 
one ever questioned why there were so many military bases still in the 
area from World War II, or why the large number of pharmaceutical and 
scientific research facilities in an area with no major metropolitan 
areas nearby. 

	The medical bay was in one of the upper levels inside the 
mountain, away from any prying eyes and safe from intrusion. Nathan knew 
all this, because his job was to keep tabs on this facility for the rest 
of the Resistance. Until, of course, the man who was now securely 
fastened in the wheelchair had come along, and changed everything.

	As he wheeled Mulder along the hallway towards the elevator, he 
described and detailed the layout of the complex, making it possible for 
Mulder to escape without having him by his side. Mulder seemed to soak 
up the information like a sponge, and could replay the same details back 
to him near to exactly how he'd said it himself. He wondered if it was a 
side effect of Mulder's new ability, or something that had always been 
there.

	Nathan had no plans to head to the upper levels inside the 
mountain--he knew if Mulder got that far inside, he'd never be coming 
out. Instead, they got off at the highest point the elevator could take 
them--Level A--and headed towards the security checkpoint. 




	The receptionist at the desk smiled tiredly at them, a little 
annoyed at having people arrive so far past visiting hours. "Sorry, but 
visiting hours are 8 a.m. to 7 p.m., no exceptions," the older woman 
said with a mild southern lilt.

	She flashed her badge at the bewildered receptionist. "I'm Agent 
Scully, with the FBI. I have reason to believe that there's a patient 
registered here under pretense."

	"Pretense?"

	"False reasons," Scully elaborated, hoping that whatever Tera 
planned to do, she'd do it soon. "I have a medical file that states that 
someone named Fox Mulder was transferred here from Georgetown Memorial, 
in DC. The doctor listed is one Dr. Richard Sosek. I'd like to speak 
with him, and check on his patient."

	"Let me see," the receptionist, whose name tag said Janice, replied 
back, already dialing up someone's number. Scully glanced back at the 
two women behind her, wondering why the receptionist hadn't gawked at 
the sight of a woman swathed in black. Her answer was the pool of black 
fabric on the floor, near where Tera had last been standing.


 
	The effort to stay camouflaged inside the building was a draining 
one; it wasn't an ability to be used lightly. Most of her people chose 
to blend themselves in with the humans rather than cloak their true 
form, but for her that wasn't an option. 

	Thankfully, she didn't need to keep up the illusion for too much 
longer. As soon as she was deep enough into the complex, she'd start her 
diversion.



	The security checkpoint guard looked at the two with barely-
restrained apathy. Mulder had hoped for a guard who was more asleep than 
awake, but he could work with indifference. Or at least, he hoped he 
could.

	Nathan only picked up on Mulder's plan a second before it began, 
and Nathan had to restrain himself from knocking the man unconscious.

	The guard held out a hand to stop them. "Hold on, there. I'll need 
to see some sort of transfer form before I can let you both through."

	"You don't need to see any transfer forms," Mulder intoned, 
putting the thought into the man's mind. He even added what hand 
movement he could with his wrists strapped to the chair's armrests.

	"Huh?"

	Nathan shrugged, as if this were standard. "He's seen 'Star Wars' 
one too many times."

	"Oh, I see. Jedi Mind Trick, huh?" The guard grinned, looking more 
like a twenty-year old kid rather than a man in uniform with a high-
powered firearm strapped to his waist. Mulder was dumb-founded.

	"I've got the forms right here," Nathan supplied helpfully, 
looking as if he were in no hurry at all.

	The guard looked them through, and nodded satisfactorily. "Go on 
ahead. Can I keep this?"

	"Sure, no problem. See ya later."

	"Yeah, later," the guard replied, his excitement already dulling.

	When Mulder and Nathan were on the elevator, Mulder couldn't help 
asking, "Why didn't it work?"

	Nathan seemed to be amused at the question. "You were trying to 
make him do something that went contrary to his training. Planting a 
suggestion into someone's thoughts isn't that easy."

	"But, I did it with this other person--"

	"Did you? Or was that a decision he was already planning to make?" 
Nathan already knew the answer. When Mulder stayed silent, he continued. 
"I thought so. In contrast to what you did, I only planted a small 
suggestion; one that he expected to see, anyway."

	"The form didn't have a doctor's signature on it," Mulder replied, 
following Nathan's thought. The other man nodded in silent affirmation.

	"And I almost blew it for you, didn't I?"

	"No harm done. In fact, you helped distract the guard. He was 
quite amused."

	"Thanks," Mulder said dryly.

	Again, Nathan said nothing. The elevator car began to decelerate 
and a few seconds later the door opened to the sight of stainless steel 
walls, white linoleum floors, and the sounds of chaos.



End of Part Nine


Genesis of Revelation (10/12) by H Lynn

Disclaimer in part one

**************************



	Guards ran by Scully and Andrea as they waited by the 
receptionist's desk. The older woman started to panic, and soon stopped 
paying any attention to the two women as she tried to call someone to 
find out what was going on. In the commotion, Scully went against the 
flow of the guards, heading closer to the side facing the mountain in 
the hope that Andrea could remember the way through the maze of 
corridors.

	"Which way?" Scully asked as loudly as she could without shouting.

	"Keep going straight, then turn right. When we get that far, I 
should be able to figure out the rest."

	"Should--!"

	"Hey, it's better than nothing. And at least I've been here 
before," Andrea trailed off, trying not to have the wrong memories 
surface.

	"Point taken."



	The wolf skidded around another corner, scattering nurses and 
patients out of its path. A part of her liked the chase, the hunt, but 
realized it would be only temporary. Already, countermeasures were being 
put into place, and surely she would be shot at. She could only hope 
that no staff or patients were nearby when that happened.



	Nathan tried to push Mulder's wheelchair through the chaos, but it 
soon proved fruitless. Unstrapping Mulder from the chair, he looked 
around to see if anyone was watching, then gave Mulder his ID tag. "It 
won't fool anyone who looks closely, but it'll keep a guard from 
stopping you outright. Or at least, I hope so."

	"Well, if I come up against any problems, I'll try the method you 
taught me. Otherwise, I'll just blame you," he added lightly.

	Nathan held out his hand, and Mulder took it. "Good luck, Nathan."

	"May the Lord protect you, Mulder," Nathan replied and walked away 
quickly, swallowed up by the chaos before Mulder could even bring 
himself to say another word.



	The hallway where they'd taken a right turn ended at a T-shaped 
intersection, with both hallways indistinguishable from the other. 

	"Which way, Andrea?"

	"I...I don't know. I can't remember. I think maybe, left?"

	"Are you sure?"

	"Well, no. Not really."

	Scully sighed in disgust. "All right. I'll go left, you go right. 
If you find the elevator, come back and get me. If I don't find it, I'll 
head back here."

	"Right," Andrea acknowledged, and headed off down the corridor 
while Scully went the opposite way, the left seemingly more quiet than 
the way Andrea had taken.



	The crowds dissipated as Nathan made his way back to the elevator, 
the guards already evacuating the patients and staff. One guard stopped 
him and tried to usher him towards the front entrance, but a quick 
suggestion to the guard that he was in the process of heading to an exit 
allowed Nathan to go free. And in its own way, it wasn't truly a lie. 
Nathan was leaving, just not in the conventional way.

	He breezed through the guard that Mulder and he had gone through 
earlier, and headed down the direction he would've taken had he followed 
his original directions--The medical bay, where Richard Sosek waited for 
a patient that would never show. 



	The shot reverberated throughout the hallway, the bullet's aim 
true. It hit the wolf's right flank, and would've stopped a normal 
animal, regardless of strength. However, this particular wolf kept going 
while a greenish liquid bubbling up from the wound; Wherever it hit air, 
it turned into a noxious vapor.

	The guards weren't prepared for it at all, the wolf noted sadly as 
the men screamed when she ran by. Then again, they didn't think a wild 
animal would be able to get into their facility. Let alone one that 
wasn't truly a wild animal.

	The wound closed up quickly enough, but her cover was now blown--
now that they knew what she was, they'd be able to counteract it.

	Stretching out with her mind, she tried to find out what they 
might be planning when a mind came in contact with hers, just as amazed, 
if not moreso.

	[You?]



	The hallway seemed longer than it really was, Mulder noted as he 
walked stiffly, the pain from the beatings and lethargy making it 
difficult to move faster. He wondered, not for the first time, whether 
he could still go back for the wheelchair when a presence began to fill 
his mind, a presence so strong and so clear that it left little doubt 
who it could be. Leaning on a nearby doorframe, he concentrated on the 
presence. The thoughts came into focus swiftly, leaving no doubt of the 
person's identity.

	Scully. 

	"Scully!"

	What pain he had soon faded into the background, in light of this 
new information. Scully was here, and had somehow managed to get into 
this facility and possibly orchestrate this whole diversion.

	But, the odds were incalculable--even considering the diversion, 
he had been in a room far below the sanitarium itself. If not for the 
fact Nathan had been wheeling him away, Scully might never have found 
him at all.

	So the question remained; Was it coincidence, or design? And if it 
was designed, who did it? It was a question that Mulder couldn't answer, 
not without a lot more thought. Coincidence was possible, but he knew 
deep down that it wasn't the answer. And considering what Nathan had 
said...

	He shook his head, trying to focus back on Scully. Scully could 
explain this to him rationally...she'd tell him some long, drawn-out 
theory on statistics and logic, and on the odds of coincidence. She 
would make sense out of nonsense. 
	



	Mulder's partner may not have had the ability to read minds, but 
her hearing was as good as anyone else's. And the sound of Mulder's 
voice calling her name was sweeter than anything she could possibly 
imagine.

	She ran toward the sound of the voice, conscious of the fact that 
the hallway was now empty. A turn right, and there he was, looking worn 
and thin, but alive. Blessedly alive.

	Her normal behavior pattern, in this situation, was to restraint 
the relief and joy at seeing him alive, and to focus on survival. And in 
her mind, it wasn't a bad plan. But having come so close to losing him, 
so many times, she didn't have the energy to hold back any longer.

	As she ran towards him, she noticed how heavily he was leaning on 
a nearby doorframe, trying to make it look nonchalant but not 
succeeding. How badly was he hurt? Was he sick?

	"Mulder? Are you all right?" She asked as she came up to his side 
at last, concern etched into her face.

	"Yeah, just tired," he said. "Legs aren't quite ready for the 
decathlon just yet."

	"Need some help?" She offered as she put an arm tightly around his 
waist in order to support some of his weight, and jumped as he pulled 
away sharply, stifling a scream of pain. She gave him a probing look, 
then lifted up his shirt to see what damage had been wrought.

	The reddish purple bruises had since deepened to a blackened 
purple. While her heart froze at the sight of Mulder's back, side, and 
front covered in dark bruises, the clinical side noted where the bruises 
were, and grew even more concerned.

	"Mulder, several of these bruises are right in the kidney area--
there might be lacerations."

	"Which means?" Mulder managed through clenched teeth.

	"Which means there might be internal bleeding. We need to have you 
checked out."

	"Hey, sounds good to me. Let's get moving before someone finds us 
here," Mulder lurched forward, and Scully grabbed his arm.

	"Mulder--"

	"Save it for when we're out of here," he replied not unkindly, the 
nearness of her presence already having told him much about what she was 
thinking. He wanted to say several things as well, and hoped they'd both 
get the chance when they were far, far away from here.



	The contact was a shock, to say the least. Nathan hadn't expected 
to find any of his own kind here. Neither of them had names that could 
be considered as such, but he found himself amused at her particular 
choice.

	[Tera. An interesting name.]

	[As is yours. Although in Jeremiah's case, his name turned out to 
be prophetic.]

	[A nice play on words, Sister. I don't claim to be a prophet, 
however.]

	[I think I've met one, though. Truly.]

	She didn't seem to be joking, so he answered, [Who?]

	[A girl. She doesn't believe it yet, however.]

	[Is it time already, then?]

	[It's not for me to say, Brother. Not for any of us...you know 
that.]

	[I know. But the waiting is hard. And my mission here has been 
compromised.]

	[How?]

	Nathan shouldered his way through staff to leave the elevator, and 
found himself on the fifth floor, where the medical bay was. [I helped a 
patient escape, one of the Chosen. He was an actual telepath--!]

	He felt an excitement build in the other, [Was his name Mulder?]

	[It was. Is that important?]

	[He's the reason I'm here! Where did you last see him?]

	[I left him on the main floor of the sanitarium, near an elevator. 
You can sense him, actually.]

	A wave of amazement flowed from her. [You're right. And he's in 
great pain.]

	[But I sense another coming towards him, someone he knows.]

	[I know who that is,] Tera answered, the thoughts from around the 
two growing more purposeful and less chaotic by the second. She was 
already heading towards them as the thought appeared in Nathan's mind. 
[And they've got company.]




	To say that the man known as Richard Sosek was upset, was an 
understatement. His patient should have been delivered ten minutes ago, 
and now the wait made every second feel like minutes. 

	He reached for the phone, ready to scream obscenities into the ear 
of Security, when a quiet voice halted his movement.

	"Dr. Richard Sosek."

	The doctor turned to look at the intruder, summing him up in one 
glance; underling. The orderly's dark hair made his skin seem even more 
pale than otherwise. The dark eyes bore into him with a feeling not 
dissimilar to guilt, although he couldn't say the last time he'd 
actually felt that emotion. Or if he'd ever felt it at all.

	"Where's my patient, orderly? He should've been here ten minutes 
ago!"

	"He won't be coming, doctor."

	"And why the hell not?"

	"Why, indeed?" The dark-haired man smiled.

	Sosek looked at the man with renewed interest. This wasn't a man 
unused to wielding power. A man not too unlike himself, in a way. Then, 
he placed the face with a name. "Where is he, then, Nathan?"

	The man was unfazed. "Away from here, by now. But that isn't your 
immediate concern, Dr. Sosek. Or should I say, Dr. Scanlon?"

	For Sosek, there was only one reaction he could have to such a 
statement. He laughed. "I think you've made a grave mistake, my friend. 
Scanlon is dead."

	"But he lives in you, not unlike a father through his son."

	"Scanlon wasn't old enough to be my father," Sosek shook his head, 
amazed at the man's delusion.

	Nathan paused, looking thoughtfully at the greying doctor. "You 
really don't know, do you?"

	"I don't have time for these games," Sosek replied, walking 
towards the exit with every intention of brushing past the orderly. 
"You'll be lucky if you're not fired for this--"

	"You're a clone."

	That stopped Sosek in his tracks, despite the lunacy of the 
statement. "Oh, please. Next I suppose you'll be telling me I have green 
blood, even though I've cut myself often enough to know better."

	"Actually, doctor, I'm the one with the green blood," Nathan 
replied, his voice deadly calm. And his form quickly shifted into the 
shape of the late Dr. Scanlon.

	"Can't you see the resemblance, Richard?" The man who looked like 
Scanlon asked, his kind face a perverse foil to the words he spoke. "You 
don't think I'd trust my research to anyone else but myself, did you?"

	"No," Sosek said, horrified. The stainless steel door's surface 
showed a distorted version of himself. He looked in the reflection to 
try and disprove Nathan's statement, but instead only saw its 
validation.

	The same eyes, the same jawline, even the same build. It was all 
there, only ten years younger than the original.

	The original...

	Richard Sosek's world caved in, his whole reality collapsing 
before his eyes. "No..."

	"Yes. Scanlon was a devious man, but he wasn't stupid," the faux 
Scanlon continued. "All of his closest research assistants were clones, 
although he changed the basic characteristics enough to fool his 
employers. All of the clones, however, have his brainwave pattern. You 
think just the same as he does."

	Sosek shook his head, a feeble attempt at denial. 

	"And now you see why you have to die."




	The hallway dead-ended, and Andrea sighed in defeat. Agent Scully 
must have gone the right way, although she hadn't come back for her yet.

	She started to head back at a fast trot, surprised at how vacant 
the hallways were now. If she shouted, Scully would probably be able to 
hear her. Of course, anyone else would be able to, as well, and 
considering how they were trying to keep a low profile, she decided 
against it. 

	As she headed back the way she came, the hallway suddenly looked 
different, as if she were somewhere else. And then, recognition 
dawned...it was her dream.

	Searching for someone, she'd run down hallway after hallway, 
confused and frightened. And then, she'd turned the corner, only to find 
a woman bent over the form a man. A man who'd been shot.

	Agent Scully had been the woman. She could only guess who the man 
was. But in a sickening certainty, she knew. She knew with every inch of 
her soul who that man was.

	She only hoped, as she ran, that she wouldn't be too late.




	Mulder leaned heavily on his partner's small frame, doing it only 
because he needed to if they were going to get anywhere fast. And speed 
was the thing they needed most, at the moment.

	"Scully, remind me to get you a real birthday present next year, 
okay?"

	"Sure, Mulder," she replied, not quite up to bantering with his 
weight added to hers. "And it better be a good one."

	"You bet. No more keychains from me. Next year, it's souvenir 
glasses."

	He said it with such sincerity that she laughed, in spite of her 
own rule. "What, then? Elvis?"

	"Nah, something you'd like, Scully. Xena, maybe? Or 'Buffy the 
Vampire Slayer'?"

	"That's what *you'd* want, Mulder."

	He pouted. "You mean I couldn't borrow 'em?"

	She shook her head incredulously, even as she knew her comments 
were only adding fuel to the fire. "Only if you asked real nicely."

	"How nice would I have to be?" Mulder's voice dropped in pitch and 
volume, as her stomach tried to do the same.

	She swallowed, then replied, "Very nice."

	"I can be very nice."

	"Sure," she said back, her voice scoffing at the idea. 

	Suddenly, his mind recalled another conversation from when this 
had all began, that had been heading the same direction. He only hoped that it 
wouldn't be considered copyright infringement.

	"I'm a nice man."

	"Well, I'd have to say--"

	He never did hear what she'd say because at that moment, voices 
and thoughts broke through his concentration. He staggered to a stop, 
bracing an arm against the cool steel of the wall. Scully stood off to 
his left, her worry obvious.

	"Mulder, are you okay?"

	He couldn't answer her; the voices filled his senses to the 
exclusion of everything else. 

	[around this corner]

	[was heading this way]

	[heard voices from that direction]

	"Scully," he managed to say, concern thick in his voice, "we need 
to move. They're coming."

	"Where?" She turned around to look, and saw the shadow before he 
could. Drawing her weapon, the sound of metal scraping against leather 
caused the shadow to jump into action. 

	Mulder sensed the presence just as Scully started to draw her gun. 
He turned to see the shadow change into a darkly-garbed man with a 
pistol, pointing it at his partner, Scully.

	No--

	"No!" 

	And everything went to hell.




End of Part Ten


Genesis of Revelation (11/12) by H Lynn

Disclaimer in part one

*************************



	The gunshot echoed through the hallway, Andrea the first one to 
hear it. Tears started to follow as she knew what had happened, that she 
hadn't gotten there in time to stop it. Then she heard a second shot, 
and nearly froze.

	No, that wasn't supposed to happen, the second shot was supposed 
to be at me, she babbled mentally, in disbelief. She sobbed as she ran, 
hoping her dream wasn't turning into a nightmare.



	Scully knew as the man rounded the corner with his firearm that 
she was dead. She hadn't even the chance to aim when Mulder had thrown 
himself in front of her, planning to tackle her to the ground.

	The sound of the gunshot nearly deafened her in the narrow 
corridor. She looked to see where the gunman was, aimed and fired before 
Mulder's weight slammed into her, knocking her backwards. Her aim, 
however, was true; the gunman took the bullet clean through the 
forehead.

	She started to pray the man's aim hadn't been as good, but that 
prayer died before ever reaching her lips; Blood was splattered against 
the wall. Mulder's blood. 

	Her eyes widened as the reality sunk in. She looked into his eyes, 
amazed that he was still upright. His pain-filled gaze met hers, and 
seeing that she was no longer in danger, he sunk to the floor.

	"Mulder!" 

	She quickly knelt down to try and ease him down, and to get a look 
at how badly he'd been hurt. Her throat tightened as she saw what the 
bullet had wrought.

	Clear puncture through the lung, at least. Her clinical detachment 
tried to jump-start itself, but failed in the midst of her horror and 
grief. No exit wound, so the bullet might have bounced off a rib, into 
internal organs. 

	As she laid him down on the white floor, already becoming red and 
slick with his blood, she listened to his breathing. His gasps for air 
rattled in his throat, the sound of liquid undeniable. Blood was pooling 
in his lungs, and he was also possibly bleeding internally. If he didn't 
get medical attention immediately, he would surely die.

	Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. He needed 
her to be strong, now--there wasn't any time to be an emotional wreck.

	"Mulder, can you hear me?"

	"Scul--" His sentence broke off as he coughed, flecks of blood 
appearing on now-ashen lips. 

	"Don't try to talk, you're going to be all right," she grabbed her 
phone to dial 911, and nearly lost her hold on her emotions when the 
words, 'no carrier', appeared on the cell phone's screen.

	"You know--'s not true," Mulder said, struggling to breathe. He 
grasped her hand. "Go."

	"I'm not leaving you, Mulder."

	"Go. Now."

	"I can't..."

	"Please." He was begging now.

	"I won't. Because you wouldn't leave, if it was me."

	The look he gave her spoke volumes; disbelief, wonder, joy, 
sadness, anger, and pain.  And she heard softly, the words she'd heard 
once before, and rebuffed.

	"I...love you, Scully."




	She looked at Mulder, stunned in spite of her grief. Did she just 
hear...?

	"Yes..." He exhaled softly, the effort draining him.

	She took a steadying breath, her emotions tattering to rags. He 
was already shivering, a sign he was going into shock. 

	This wasn't how it was supposed to be, she lamented. It wasn't 
supposed to end this way. But he wasn't going to make it, and they both 
knew it. And in her heart, Scully understood that she needed to 
reciprocate the sentiment before it was too late. 

	"Mulder--oh God." The tears came freely now, "I love you. Why 
didn't I tell you earlier?" Her self-hatred rose like bile in her 
throat. "Why didn't I have my gun drawn? Why didn't I react faster? 
Why--"

	"No," he stopped her, shaking his head. "Don't blame yourself."

	"It's my fault," she whispered, her heart feeling like it would 
burst from the pain.

	"I chose...to take the bullet, Scully."

	"That bullet was meant for me, Mulder."

	"I'd rather die...than let that happen."

	She took her free hand and rested it along his cheek, "I'd rather 
die than have this happen to you, Mulder."

	His breath shuddered as he sighed. "Y'know, I was going to...kiss 
you."

	Her eyes widened at this. "When?"

	"About...thirty seconds ago."

	Tears welled up again, and her eyes flew shut in an effort to hold 
them back. She felt as if she should say something to lighten the 
moment, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she confessed. "I 
kissed you once."

	This genuinely surprised him. "When?"

	"When you were at the hospital, in Wisconsin about a year ago. You 
were unconscious."

	He coughed a laugh, "Well, that wasn't too fair...was it? I 
couldn't even...appreciate it."

	She tried to smile, but couldn't. His gaze fixed on hers, and in a 
split second, each saw how much the other wanted another chance at that 
moment. She questioned the sanity of it, whether he was able to handle 
it physically. The look he gave her told her more than enough--she 
hadn't needed to ask. Without any more preamble, she wiped away the 
flecked blood and tilted her head down, until her lips met his.

	It was everything she had expected, and yet not at all. The taste 
of iron marred the sweetness of the moment, but she found herself lost 
in the feel of his lips anyway, as his hands shakily rested at her 
waist. Time lost all relevance as it was just them, alone, trying to 
ignore the circumstances and events leading to this moment, that this 
first kiss would be their last...

	Their lips parted violently as he struggled for air, the moment 
destroyed by reality. 

	"Mulder, stay with me. Don't leave me here." She distantly heard 
the sound of footfalls, and knew the other guards had heard the 
gunshots. One from the same direction as the previous guard, and one 
from the opposite. At least she wouldn't suffer long.

	"Scully...go," he rasped, as if he'd heard that thought. Maybe he 
had.

	She shook her head at his final attempt to persuade her. "No. My 
place is with you."

	His eyes watered, his own tears forming. "I don't deserve 
this...*You* don't deserve this."

	"My love for you is unconditional, Mulder. I'm staying," she 
pulled out her gun. "And I don't plan on going out without a fight. For 
either of us."




	Andrea ran until her sides hurt, the cramping pain almost 
unbearable. But she had to know if the dream was wrong, if they were 
both dead...

	And as she started to turn the corner, she saw Agent Scully bent 
over the body of a man, dressed in once-white scrubs that were marked 
ever so often in deep red. Blood was splattered against the wall, and 
was flecked and smeared along the floor. 

	Oh, no, not again--

	The figure appeared from the opposite end of the hallway, silent 
even compared to Agent Scully's whispers to Mulder. He pointed his gun 
at Scully's head, she started to turn, and then Andrea screamed. It was 
a scream borne of frustration, horror, and grief.

	The man, shocked, pointed his gun now at Andrea, expecting her to 
be a more immediate threat. He aimed and fired.

	Andrea felt the now-familiar weight slam into her side, the bullet 
whizzing by so closely she could hear it. Then the weight disappeared 
and she looked around, now knowing what to expect.

	A wolf.

	The wolf, however, had disappeared. The crack of another bullet 
rang in her ears, and she ducked until noticed the gun held in Scully's 
hand. The guard was on the floor, not too far from his comrade, his 
chest a bloody hole. He didn't move.

	Something that looked like a heat wave moved near to Scully, and 
before she could cry out, the wave transformed into the image of a 
nearly-human woman, her pale skin bluish in the fluorescent lighting.

	And with numb legs, Andrea made her way over to the fallen form of 
Agent Mulder.




	Tera took in the scene with an emotion that surprised her. She'd 
never been too attached to humans as a rule, but she'd come to consider 
these two agents as her only link to humanity. She'd seen moments meant 
only for them, seen how deeply they cared for one another. Scully wept 
uncontrollably now, the stress of the last few moments cracking her 
patched-up facade. 

	She walked over to Scully's side, and rested a hand on the 
distressed woman's shoulder. Almost immediately, Scully's tears stopped. 

	"Tera?" She asked weakly, a wonder in her voice at the warmth 
she'd felt, and how calm she'd suddenly become.

	"Quiet. Be still," Tera replied, and placed a hand on Mulder's 
chest, his effort to draw breath now plainly obvious. "He's been hurt 
pretty badly. Stand back."

	Scully looked at her in disbelief, her tone defensive. "What are 
you doing?"

	Tera gave her a dark look, one that wasn't meant to be argued 
with. "Stand. Back."

	Stunned, Scully moved back, but only enough to let Tera in. The 
pale-skinned woman placed both hands over Mulder's heart, and inhaled 
deeply, as if bracing herself for a blow.

	And a couple seconds later, Mulder's eyes flew open. He sucked in 
air greedily, as if his taking his last breath. Scully thought for a 
brief moment that Tera had killed him, until it finally dawned on her--
Jeremiah Smith had been a healer, and so were the Colonists, according 
to Mulder. Cassandra had even mentioned to her the 'great healers' of 
the alien race.

	Tera was saving Mulder's life. 

	As the woman pulled away, her partner began to sit up, blinking in 
amazement. "Scully, the pain...everything's gone."

	She rushed over, looking through the bullet hole in the blood-
soaked shirt and finding nothing but blood-smeared skin. Healthy, 
unblemished skin.

	In curiosity, she lifted the hem of the shirt and found that his 
bruises were gone, as well. Her face glowed in amazement and relief, her 
gratitude welling up and overflowing. "Tera..."

	"You're welcome," Tera smiled weakly, leaning back on one arm.

	Mulder was now sitting up fully, still dazed by it all. Then he 
grinned. "The voices are gone," he said as he jumped to his feet. 

	"They are?"

	He watched her, expecting her to be joking. When she looked at him 
blankly, he reconsidered. "You didn't...cure me?"

	"Mulder, I don't even know how you got the ability in the first 
place, let alone have an idea on how to try and stop it. Whatever 
happened, it was not by *my* will."

	Scully and Andrea knew exactly what she meant, but Mulder looked 
at her, confused. "Well, if it wasn't *your* will, whose was it?"

	She frowned, and simply replied, "God's, of course."




	"What?!"

	Nathan was nonplused by Sosek's reaction. "You have to die, 
Richard, because you're soulless." The orderly shifted back to his 
regular appearance. "Can you think of a time when you've ever felt shame 
or guilt? Compassion or selfless love? Have you ever felt anything 
besides apathy?"

	"I've hated, and gotten angry. I've been happy."

	"But were you ever convicted about feeling that hatred and anger? 
And wasn't the happiness more about pleasure?"

	" 'Convicted?' What do you mean?"

	Nathan smiled tolerantly. "You see? That's my point. You aren't 
really alive--you're just a mimicry of another human being. You've 
stayed alive this long mainly due to the timing of the master plan, but 
now it's over."

	Sosek backed away, searching for a weapon--any weapon--and his 
hand fell on a scalpel. If he could hit this alien's neck just right...

	Nathan lunged and Sosek spun away, taking a stab at the base of 
Nathan's neck. But expecting this, the orderly turned from the blow and 
allowed it to hit his shoulder. Green blood seeped from the wound and 
turned to vapor, filling the room with the retrovirus.

	Too late, Sosek realized his mistake. He ran to the door, only to 
find it locked. Before he could even about finding the key, he fell to 
one knee, overcome by the effects of the virus. And marveled at his lack 
of emotion, as he noticed the irony of dying by his own hand, before his 
vision faded to black.
	



	"God.?" Mulder shook his head, amazed at what he was 
hearing. 

	Tera could feel the disbelief in him, but a sense of understanding 
as well. And on the periphery of her focus, she sensed the eminent 
arrival of more armed guards.

	"Mulder, I would love to discuss this with you, but unfortunately, 
we no longer have that option," she said as she stood, trying to discern 
where the guards were coming from. "You have to go. Now. All of you."

	No one had to be told twice. In seconds, all were on their feet 
and heading towards the end of the hallway, leading to the exit. Mulder 
turned back when he noticed Tera wasn't joining them.

	"Tera, c'mon!"

	She smiled as best she could. "Please, go. I need to draw their 
attention away from you and onto me. You won't be able to escape if we 
stay together."

	Now that he couldn't sense her thoughts, he couldn't tell if she 
was lying or telling the truth. Or telling as much of the truth she 
wanted him to know.

	"Tera..."

	But she had already changed back into her wolf form, and turned 
down the opposite direction.

	"Mulder?" He felt Scully's hand on his arm, impatiently pulling 
him forward. "She can handle herself. She's how we got in here in the 
first place."

	He nodded, seeing the logic in Scully's words. Of course Tera 
would be all right; she was one of *them*. And he turned to follow 
Scully and Andrea, letting the questions of what *they* really were 
skitter off the surface of his mind.



	The feel of the chase was in her veins, a thrill that couldn't be 
matched by anything her people had to offer. Shouts and screams followed 
her as she ran through the hallways, away from the entrance and away 
from Mulder, Scully, and Andrea.

	There were three bullets in her flank, and one in her side. If she 
hadn't already spent so much energy in transforming and healing, she 
would've been able to shrug off these wounds. However, the exertion was 
taxing her both physically and mentally, and she knew that she wouldn't 
have too much longer before they caught up to her.

	She didn't regret her actions; she'd known what was expected of 
her before she'd entered the building. It was her duty to protect the 
Chosen, even at the cost of her own life.

	And the guards were no fools--they knew what she was. Whether they 
had the means to end the chase was a question she hadn't quite found the 
answer to, yet.



	A newly-healed Mulder lead the way, Nathan having mentally 
supplied him earlier with the right path to the building's entrance. 
Andrea lagged somewhat behind, but wouldn't let the others stop for her-
-if anything, it might help their chances if a guard happened to stop 
them. But no one was around, aside from the occasional running nurse or 
personnel, who had better things to do than wonder at the presence of a 
blood-stained orderly and two visitors. Apparently, Tera was doing an 
excellent job keeping the majority of the gunmen away.

	The last corner was taken more cautiously, and Mulder saw a couple 
of guards at the entrance, posted to keep the wolf from escaping. Scully 
leaned in for a look as Andrea joined them, holding her side but not 
saying a word in complaint.

	"What d'you think, Scully?" Mulder whispered in her ear. 

	She glanced back at him, taking in the horrific sight of the blood 
covering his shirt. "Well, I doubt they'd stop a man who'd been severely 
wounded, would they?"

	He grinned, catching her drift. Checking in a nearby room produced 
a pillowcase that they used as both bandage and cover for the bullet 
hole. To create a more realistic look, Scully used it to soak up some of 
the still-wet blood from the shirt, and made sure that the blood on the 
'bandage' was visible for all to see. 

	Scully and Andrea propped Mulder up as if he had barely any 
strength left to walk, while Scully held the blood-soaked pillowcase to 
his back. A glance and a nod started the charade, and they stepped from 
behind the cover of the hallway, and into view.

	"Help! Someone, please!" Scully yelled as she pretended to just 
now spy the guards at the front. "This man's been hurt!"

	The guards, not expecting any civilian casualties, were at first 
on edge. When they saw the blood, however, they went from nervous to 
concerned.

	"What happened?" One guard asked, a youngish man with a strong 
southern accent.

	"Not sure--it all happened so fast," Scully replied, still 
dragging Mulder towards the exit. "We need to get him outside, where 
it's safe."

	With her commanding tone of voice at its full potency, the guards 
were in no position to say otherwise. They tried to help ease Scully and 
Andrea's burden, but Scully shook her head. "We've got it handled. But 
thanks," and she flashed him a brilliant, grateful smile. The younger 
guards, torn over helping the two women carry the orderly out of the 
facility, or staying at their post, allowed their military duties to 
override their gentlemanly ones. 

	The receptionist was nowhere to be seen, but Tera's robe was still 
pooled on the floor, to the side. Taking a glance to see if the guards 
were looking, Andrea hooked the robe around one foot and dragged it 
nonchalantly out the door with them, hoping that there would be need for 
it, after all.



	Once outside, they were able to see the large number of staff on 
the grounds and near the parking lot. Not many patients were with them, 
Mulder noted darkly.

	They had a hard time getting past the employees, however. One of 
the nurses with medical experience who'd helped set up a makeshift 
triage area for the retrovirus victims saw the three staggering from the 
entrance, and stopped them verbally.

	"What do you think you're doing?" The brunette woman barked at 
Scully, her ample figure acting as a roadblock for their escape. "This 
man needs medical attention."

	"I couldn't agree more," Scully answered, "but he needs a 
hospital."

	"I'm the medical authority, here; I'll say who needs a hospital."

	"I'm a medical doctor. If anyone has authority here, it's me."

	The nurse was about to argue that point when a tall, blond man 
came over. "Denise, you're needed back at the triage--got another 
casualty. I'll take care of this."

	"You sure, Mike?"

	"Absolutely," he smiled, then turned towards the three. Denise 
shook her head and headed back over to the triage, while Mulder was 
amazed at this stroke of luck. If luck it was.

	"How bad is it?" Mike asked, concern etched in his face.

	"It's nothing, really," Mulder replied, surprising Scully and 
Andrea. "We faked the injury so they'd let us out without any hassle."

	The other man nodded in understanding. "Glad to see you're out. I 
was worried there for a second, since I heard you were transferred to 
the medical bay."

	"Lucky for me, that didn't happen. And before I forget my manners; 
Mike, these are my friends, Dana and Andrea. They came to get me, and 
we're planning on leaving now. Are there any problems with that?"

	"Well, seeing as how serious your injuries are, you shouldn't 
waste any more time getting to the hospital," Mike said as he gave 
Mulder a conspiratorial grin.  "There are a couple guards set up at the 
parking lot exit, but I'll have them wave you through. You should be on 
your way in no time."

	"Thanks, Mike. I owe you."

	"Just don't mention it. Ever."

	"Right."

	While Mike headed down to talk to the guards, the three headed 
over to Scully's car. Having had some foresight, Scully had brought a 
change of clothes for Mulder, although he couldn't change until they 
passed the guards. Andrea glanced back at the building, where Tera was 
still diverting attention.

	"Should we wait for her?"

	Scully turned to face Andrea, who still stood looking at the 
chaos. She'd been thinking the same thing, although only one answer was 
possible, at this point. 

	"No," she answered regretfully. "If she manages to survive long 
enough to escape, she won't be expecting us to wait. And if we stay 
here, we risk being discovered."

	"If anyone could make it out, she will," Mulder added, holding the 
black garment in his hands. "But I think she'll be needing this, if she 
does." Andrea came over and took the fabric from him, and put it over 
near a tree, near the back of the building, and away from the crowd. 

	Scully noticed that Mike was coming back from talking with the 
guards, and she nudged Mulder. "Looks like it's showtime, again."

	He nodded, and Andrea joined them as they started to get into the 
car; Scully driving, Andrea in the back with Mulder, acting as 
nursemaid. It took only a few moans on Mulder's part and some frenetic 
concern on Scully's part before they were allowed to leave, heading back 
the way they came. 



End of Part Eleven


Genesis of Revelation (12/12) by H Lynn

Disclaimer in part one

*************************



Saturday, May 22nd
1:16 a.m.



	The drive back had been blessedly uneventful. They'd gotten back 
in the wee hours of the morning, wherein Andrea had bade them farewell 
and headed home. Which had left Mulder and Scully alone in her 
apartment, facing each other for the first time since Mulder's near 
death.

	The tension between them was nearly palpable. It also wasn't 
unexpected--they'd both gone through the emotional ringer, and revealed 
feelings held underneath the surface for years. Mulder was willing to 
move forward, if only Scully would move as well.

	"I imagine you'll want to get cleaned up, Mulder."

	Mulder blinked. "Cleaned up? Uh, sure. You want to help?"

	Scully's face blazed red. "Well, uh, no--that is, I don't think 
that's--"

	"--appropriate?"

	"Yeah."

	Mulder sighed, more resigned than frustrated. "I wasn't talking 
about us in a shower together--I just meant, that I'll need your help," 
he shuffled his feet self-consciously. "I can't reach my back."

	"How about a sponge bath, then?" Scully offered, compromising.

	At that, Mulder grinned. "Perfect."

	"Mulder--"

	"What?" He responded, affecting an innocent look.

	"Just...get in the bathroom."

	"Yes, ma'am."



	It was a washcloth rather than a sponge, but it felt great just 
the same, Mulder decided as Scully wiped off the dried blood. It was a 
little awkward since he had to sit on the toilet seat while she cleaned 
his back, but there was no better way to do it. They'd both gone silent 
as she worked, not wanting to mention the event. Of course, Mulder knew 
that mentioning it would only lead to what had happened next, and then 
into an area that he wasn't sure Scully was ready to enter. 

	For some, this scenario would have been a good excuse for innuendo 
and foreplay, but for them, it acted as a catharsis--a way to exorcise 
the demons that had followed them home from West Virginia. Mulder used 
the silence to meditate on what the truth really was regarding the 
aliens he'd met, while Scully's mind flew through a number of things, 
one of which was the fact that Mulder was alive, and knew how she felt 
about him.

	She rinsed the cloth and started on his arm, when he stopped her. 
"You don't need to go any farther, Scully."

	His voice rang oddly in the tiny room, after such a long silence. 
Their eyes locked, and Scully saw what Mulder was truly saying; It went
far beyond a simple sponge bath.

	She smiled patiently. "I want to finish, Mulder. May I?"

	"By all means."

	She started again, her thoughts turning to her childhood, and 
recollections of high fevers and sponge baths. As a child, she had 
completely trusted her mother, not even thinking twice about it. In 
Mulder's case, this was proof of how much he trusted her. Anyone else 
might have balked at the idea, but not him--and not with her. And she 
loved that trust in her, though it paled in comparison to the love she 
felt for the man himself.

	Her path went upwards after finishing his arms. Rinsing the cloth 
clean once again, she began with his neck, and went up to his jawline.

	Some spatter from when the bullet hit him had landed on the nape 
of his neck, as well as his hair, so she scrubbed thoroughly, making 
sure it was gone. His face hadn't had much, but some flecks of blood 
still remained from before, and she delicately wiped them away, noticing 
for the first time that Mulder's breathing had become labored.

	"Anything wrong?" She asked, not entirely sure what had caused 
this reaction.

	"No, I'm fine," he replied, not looking at her.

	"Are you?"

	At this, he turned to her and gazed straight into her eyes. "Do 
you really want to know?"

	She put the washcloth down, noticing for the first time how 
physically close they were. "Yes, I do."

	"I was thinking about a few things. Well, one in particular." When 
she said nothing, he continued. "I like...being with you. Like this."

	"In general, or specifically the sponge bath?"

	"Well, both, actually," he chuckled weakly, then sobered. "I also 
wanted to find out what it would be like to kiss you, without having a 
bullet in my back."

	Her body instantly turned into a combination of fire and ice--her 
arms and legs prickled with cold just as her face and upper body blazed 
with heat. She didn't get much farther than thinking about what to say 
next, before she found herself leaning into his mouth, which had come 
forward to meet hers. Her hands tangled in his hair as she leaned in 
closer, lips moving for the best fit, and allowed his lap to act as a 
seat while his arms wrapped around and up her back. 

	After several seconds, they parted for air. Somehow her blouse had 
become untucked, while Mulder's hands roamed underneath, finding and 
exploring many new areas. She couldn't decide whether she liked it, or 
was scared out of her mind.

	"Could we possibly continue this somewhere more...comfortable?" 
Mulder asked softly, as his hands glided along her back. 

	So, the next step was up to her. "Let's go over to the couch. 
I think we need to do some serious talking."

	 He said nothing as she lead him over to the sofa, almost 
expecting the moment to end. She handed him his shirt before he sat 
down, and he noticed the slight look of relief on her face after he 
pulled the shirt on. Guess he wasn't the only one with emotions on edge.

	After she sat down, Mulder found that he no longer knew the right 
distance to sit from her. Should he sit closer, or the same distance as 
always? He glanced at her for help, and she held out her hand, pulling 
him down next to her. 

	"You know, being this close to you--it's going to be hard for me 
to just talk."

	Scully smiled at Mulder's attempt to lighten the situation. "I 
know. Trust me, I know. But I think there are some things that need to 
be discussed before we try to explore this new...facet of our 
relationship."

	Mulder nodded approvingly. The term 'facet' called to mind a gem, 
one whose true beauty was in its appreciation. 

	"What did you want to talk about?"

	Scully hesitated, not knowing if Mulder would be open to 
discussing this, since it was the one area where he'd always been 
close-minded. 

	"You can talk to me, Scully," he said as he took her hand, 
oblivious to the turmoil within her.

	"I hope I can, Mulder, because it's about...what Tera is. And who 
she is. She explained everything to me, Mulder. Who they are, why the 
Colonists are trying to destroy humanity..."

	"And?"

	"And I have the feeling you won't believe me."

	"Why not?"

	She sighed heavily. "Because, whenever I try to talk to you about 
something like this, you always shut me out."

	"Could you let me know what 'this' is, first?" He tried to mold 
the words so they wouldn't come out too harshly, but his patience was 
running thin.

	"Tera, and Nathan...were not aliens. Not in the way you think they 
are."

	He shifted slightly. "So, if they're not aliens, what are they?"

	"She said...," Scully began, then started over. "I believe Tera 
and the others were created as servants of God, to serve and protect 
humans. I believe that the artifacts we found are nothing more than 
copies of the Bible, which they got from us. I also believe that the 
Colonists are rebelling against their purpose, in order to try and 
determine their own fate in defiance of the one that's already been 
given to them. And I think that the colonization is the end result of 
that agenda."

	Mulder was silent for a long time, so long that Scully was afraid 
of what his reaction might be. Internally, though, he was mulling over 
the last thing Nathan had said to him. Finally, he shook his head and 
replied, "I don't know. I think I need to think about this a little 
more."

	"I know you've never approved of my faith, Mulder. You thought it 
made me weak."

	He looked down at their entwined hands. "I did. And I hated  
that you could trust in something, or someone, other than me." He 
grimaced, then looked past her, at something far beyond the walls of her 
apartment. "I used to go to church when I was young, but after Sam was 
gone...I couldn't believe in a God that would let my sister be taken 
away from me and my family. I prayed and prayed that I'd find her, but 
nothing ever happened.

	"And now, what you're saying, if it's true...then why? Why 
Samantha and not me? Why were you taken? Why is any of this happening?"

	"I honestly don't know, Mulder. But if Samantha hadn't been taken, 
would you have pursued the X-Files? Would you have even entered the 
FBI?" He shook his head uncertainly, and Scully continued. "No one would 
know the truth, would they? And no one else could have found out this 
much without being killed. Maybe, just maybe, there's a grand design 
that we can't see. Maybe we're like Tera and Nathan; We have our own 
role to play."

	"You mean, destiny...?" Mulder trailed off, deep in thought. He 
recalled the day not so long ago, when he had remembered a bomb, and 
what a very distressed woman had told him about how the day--the future
--had been 'screwed up' because of their deaths.

	He'd thought initially that the woman was the one who was supposed 
to die, but now he wondered if he'd gotten it all wrong. Was he meant to 
stay alive for a purpose? Is that how he'd cheated death for all these 
years?

	The idea was staggering. That a higher power was in control of his 
fate...it was hard to fathom. He couldn't even decide whether he loathed 
or craved that lack of control.

	Scully watched him with compassion, understanding better than 
anyone what he was going through. After seeing the ship in Africa, she 
had believed her faith was a lie--now, ironically, it was Mulder's 
beliefs that were being challenged, once again.

	"Mulder, I know how you feel. And I want nothing more than to take 
this pain away from you...but I can't. You're going to have to decide 
whether to accept or reject this."

	"You want me to accept it--that much I can tell."

	She smoothed an errant strand of hair away from his forehead, "I 
want you to make the right decision. I agree with you about thinking 
this through. But, I don't want you to say you believe, just because *I* 
want you to say it."

	He smiled, recalling that he'd thought the same thing about their 
relationship not more than a few minutes ago. "You know me better than 
that, Scully. Remember, just because I agree with you, it doesn't mean 
I'm capitulating."

	She nodded, and they both fell silent. After a few seconds of 
contemplation, Scully broached the one subject that she'd been nervous 
about, Mulder's spiritual beliefs excluded.

	"Did you want to stay here tonight?"

	She took it as a sign of how deep in thought he was, that he 
didn't even make a ribald comment at the suggestion. "If it isn't a 
problem..."

	"C'mon," she replied as she got up, tugging at his hand. He froze, 
as his mind now whirled with the possibilities of what she was suggesting.

	"Scully, the couch is fine with me; I only need a pillow and a 
blanket."

	She stopped tugging and turned towards him. "You think I'm doing 
this just for your sake?"

	His eyes widened. Well, this was definitely more than he'd thought 
she'd been offering. "I don't want to--"

	"Impose?"

	He shrugged, not wanting to upset her by refusing. It took her a 
moment to figure out why Mulder had suddenly turned hesitant. "Mulder, 
I'm sorry. I didn't mean, well, like *that*. I just...wanted to have you 
near," she smiled sheepishly.

	"I *am* near, Scully," he replied, then in a moment of sudden 
insight, he added, "It's still kind of recent to you, isn't it?" He felt 
foolish for not seeing this earlier--had Scully been the one in his 
place, he wouldn't have wanted to be away from her side, either.

	She nodded meekly, and he stood to embrace her. Her arms wrapped 
around his waist tightly as he drew her close, each reveling in the feel 
of the other. They were together, and they were alive. Nothing else 
mattered.

	Her hold on him slackened, and he looked down to see her watching 
him intently. From the way her eyes glistened in the dim light, it was 
easy to see that she was holding back tears. 

	"Scully..." he started, but his voice faded as he realized that 
what she needed now went far beyond words. Tracing her cheek and jaw 
with his fingertips, he tucked away strands of hair not too unlike how 
he'd imagined doing a number of days ago, back when he thought this 
moment would never happen. She smiled encouragingly, and he bent down so 
that his lips grazed against hers. After a second or two of this, Scully 
let him know that she needed more than a light kiss, and leaned into him 
such that he quickly lost all rational thought, neither wanting the 
moment to end.



*******************************
Arlington, VA
9:56 p.m.



	Weary beyond anything he'd felt in his almost forty years on this 
planet, Fox Mulder walked the last distance to his apartment door. The 
events of the last couple of days threatened to ruin his sanity, or what 
was left of it. Physically, he felt better than he ought to, but the 
mind knew better, and he craved the moment when he could flop down on 
his own bed.

	That illusion of comfort, however, was shattered the moment he saw 
the small, folded sheet of white paper lying on his coffee table. A 
chill ran down his spine at the knowledge that someone had been inside 
his apartment, again. Had anything else been 'added' while he was away?

	He was tempted to leave the paper there, but his curiosity won 
out. Handwritten and short, the body of the message read:


    "You are not alone. You are being watched as you read this, but not 
by unfriendly eyes. We will continue to protect you and our common 
mission, but be wary. Others have not recognized the truth, as we hope 
you have. Never forget that as we watch over you, there is One who 
watches over us all."


	Ideas of who wrote the note swam in his mind as he started to 
search his bookshelf, looking for a safe place to put it. Tera, or maybe 
Nathan? Had either or both managed to escape the sanitarium? 

	His eyes stopped at a thick, leather bound book, almost against 
his will. At times, he forgot he even owned a copy of the Bible, though 
he could quote from it easily. Often he would use it for profiling 
cases, whenever he ran across another homicidal nut with a fondness for 
Scripture. Sometimes he studied it as one would study the Iliad, or 
Beowulf; As a picture of human history and heritage in ancient 
literature. Now, with a sense of humility, he reached for and pulled off 
the dusty book.

	The cool leather surface quickly warmed in his hands, and he felt 
a compulsion beyond his original intention to stick the note in its 
pages for safekeeping. The hunger for the truth gnawed at him, making 
him wonder if there'd been answers sitting in his apartment for all this 
time, and he'd just never realized it. As an investigator, he felt duty-
bound to investigate all avenues of the truth, and the reasons why he 
hadn't gone down this one road seemed inconsequential next to what he'd 
seen recently.

	Without consciously realizing it, he sat down on his sofa, cracked 
open the book, and began to read.




The End
*******************************


End Notes


Normally, I'm the type of person who likes to let their work speak for 
itself. In this case, however, I felt some explanation was needed. If 
you're so inclined, allow me to spin my tale...

If you're reading this, you're probably wondering A) Why I decided to 
write a story about Mulder seriously considering religion, and B) Why the 
aliens were creatures of God. Well, to be honest, it didn't start out that
way. I could say CC made me do it, but he only spurred me to action.

I'd been writing a nice little fanfic about Mulder and Scully questioning their
beliefs, in the context of where Andrea's abilities came from. Everything was
moving along great--I had my story planned out, and I knew where it was going.
After a minor struggle naming the story, I came up with the title "The Genesis
of
Revelation", which meant--essentially--"the beginning of discovery". I thought
it
was quite clever.

And then the season finale, Biogenesis, was shown.

I nearly had an apoplectic seizure at the fact that they'd thrown Biblical 
and Judeo-Christian elements into the Mytharc--in the back of my 
mind, I could hear the sound of my fanfic crashing yet again. But 
seeing as how I'd written almost 40 pages by now, it was too late to 
start over.

I debated over whether I could incorporate the finale into my story, 
then discarded it. It was impossible.  How could I tie in alien tablets 
with Scripture written in Navajo with what I'd already done? Intent on 
leaving it alone and ignoring it, I continued to write.

Or at least, I tried to. The idea of writing about this situation--
especially with Scully's crisis of faith, a wonderful story element--really 
appealed to me as a Christian. However, the thought of waiting until 
the other story was finished was unbearable. I also hated the fact that 
Scully's beliefs were being crushed with "aliens wrote the Bible", which, 
IMHO, doesn't mesh with "Revelations", "Miracle Man", and "All Souls", 
to name a few. But then, I wondered, what if the story element was 
reversed--if maybe the aliens didn't give us the Bible, but rather *got* 
the Bible from us? Hence, what came to be known as Part II of the story.

The idea for the aliens being creatures of God came from--of all things-
-Talitha Cumi and Herrenvolk. The fact that Jeremiah Smith was 
considered a holy man, healing people out of the kindness of his heart, 
plus his two conversations with CSM, gave me a basis on which to 
construct the storyline. Another interesting point was the fact that the 
Jeremiah from the Bible was a prophet who was repeatedly thrown into 
prison and tortured for his beliefs--a nice, subtle parallel to the XF 
Jeremiah. And for those who are still shaking your head in disbelief 
over the 'aliens are from God' theory, listen to the two conversations 
that Jeremiah has with CSM. The way Jeremiah speaks of God not as 
an abstract or a concept, but as fact--well, it was enough to make me 
think twice.

I hope I've given people an entertaining story that's within the realm 
of possibility. Please let me know if you enjoyed what I've written. :)


H Lynn (hlynn28@aol.com)