Here's the first installment of an X-files screenplay that's been 
gathering micro-dust on my hard-drive. Apologies for the tab 
damage and thanks to Peggy Li for the editorial help. Enjoy...

--Mark B. [a.k.a. yyang@alchemy.chem.utoronto.ca]


On The Wire - an X-Files tele-play

Scene I (teaser) - INT. NIGHT - the grubby bachelor apartment of computer geek 
- WILLIAM J. MULHOLLAND. The only light source is a ghostly glow from his 
computer terminal. The sound of a VIOLENT COMPUTER VIDEO GAME. Light from the 
terminal dances off of the apartment’s dingy walls. Overlaid TYPED READ-OUT on 
the top left-hand of screen says:

"SPOKANE, WASHINGTON. 3 A.M."

CANDY-BAR WRAPPERS, DIRTY LAUNDRY, well-thumbed COMPUTER 
MANUALS, and half-crushed cans of JOLT COLA litter the floor. The camera 
finally stops at William’s chair and climbs to kibitz over his shoulder. 
PHONE RINGS - William’s head jerks nervously at the sound. Shot of 
phone, along the cord with a slow pan to his connected computer modem. 
Its lights start to flicker - the sound of a phone line connecting to his 
terminal. The sound of FRANTIC TYPING as the camera slowly bends 
around to reveal William’s greasy face. A bead of sweat dribbles into 
his eye - he wipes his face with his hand, blinks and continues to type. 
On the floor two crushed cans of JOLT start to shake then magnetize 
together. The sound of a static charge of electricity. William notices 
metal objects close to his terminal are creeping towards each other. 
His hand flinches from a static shock from his keyboard. He sucks on 
his fingers and then looks up to the wall above the terminal. Camera 
slowly tilts up to his wall-clock. A DEEP THRUMMING SOUND. The 
hands of the clock begin to spin backwards. William begins to scream. 
Light and motion plays off the clock’s glass face. The thmming increases, 
a loud electric discharge and a final death scream from lliam - the scene 
is plunged into darkness and silence. 

Roll opening credits...

INT. DAYTIME - FBI offices of MULDER and SCULLY. Close-up of map of 
United States - Mulder’s thumb presses in a red-pin into the city of SPOKANE. 


MULDER:

William J. Mulholland. Name ring a bell?


SCULLY:

Sounds vaguely familiar.

[Mulder tosses her a green file that is jammed with paper and photographs 
- Scully turns to the first page - a picture of WILLIAM J. MULHOLLAND 
is paper-clipped to the file]


SCULLY:

The infamous "crank file".


MULDER:

Yep. The FBI’s top 10 most un-wanted list.


SCULLY:

Why would you want to investigate some crackpot like Mulholland? 
He’s listed here as reporting over 150 bogus UFO sightings. Arrested 
on numerous occasions for mischief, phone-fraud, disturbing the peace. 
He’s been a thorn in the side of the FBI, the CIA, the NSA and god knows 
how many other government agencies. 


MULDER:

You forgot the Spokane city dog-catcher.


SCULLY:

So some nutbar U.F.O. crank dies. Big deal.


MULDER:

Falls into our territory, Scully. 

[Mulder tosses her a copy of THE TATTLING PLANET - a national tabloid]


SCULLY:

I see your taste in literature hasn’t improved. 

MULDER:

Hey, I was just reading it the fast check-out line and it happened to fall 
into my basket.

SCULLY:

(reads) "Mysterious death linked to lightning strike. 

[a sarcastic look from Scully] 

Local Spokane resident dies horrific and totally mystifying death 
by supernatural forces..."

You realize that this "publication" - and I use the term loosely - 
believes that Bigfoot sired Elvis’ love-child. 

MULDER:
(wryly)

The truth about Elvis is out there.


SCULLY:

Think about it, Mulder. You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel here. 
Sleazy tabloid journalism. Admitted crank’s not so mysterious death.



MULDER:

So?

SCULLY:

So I’m starting to worry about you.


MULDER:

Starting? 

 
SCULLY:
(sighs)

Alright, what have you got?


MULDER:

The tabloid article is true. They lifted it straight from the Spokane Daily Record. 
Mulholland’s death matches a pattern that’s been occuring across the 
country. Death by massive electric shock. Possibly lightning strike.

SCULLY:

Big deal. People get hit by lightning all the time.

MULDER:

Not indoors they don’t. 

SCULLY:
(a little more interested)

Electrical discharge. 

MULDER:

No electrical storms or any type of atmospheric disturbances reported. 
Most of these so called lightning strikes occured without a cloud in the sky. 

SCULLY:

Electrocution.

MULDER:

No spikes or brown-outs reported by the power companies. 


SCULLY:

Any other connections?

MULDER:
[Indicating the map - 25 red pins in a random pattern across the US] 

It’s part of a string of deaths across the country over the past few months. 
Twenty-five deaths. Same circumstances. Same description. 


SCULLY:

What’s the pattern?


MULDER:

I don’t know yet but take a look at this. Two weeks ago in Albequrque, 
New Mexico - death by electrocution of a Joseph Stranman. 


SCULLY:

Stranman.


MULDER:
[points to the green file] 

Check the file. 


SCULLY:
[leafs past Mulholland’s file and finds JOSEPH STRANMAN] 

Another crank.


MULDER:
[points to various parts of map] 

Pittsburgh, Pensylvania - George Danson - Miami, Florida - Adrian David 
Stuart.  Not just one crank here, Scully. Four of the names in that file 
have died under the same mysterious circumstances in the last month. 


SCULLY:

Sounds like someone’s doing us a favour. Any other patterns?


MULDER:

A few. All of the victims were male. Some of the personal information I’ve 
gathered so far indicates that all of the victims had a mutual interest...


SCULLY:

Besides pestering the government?


MULDER:

They weren’t all cranks. Most were model citizens but they all had the same hobby.


SCULLY:

Playing with matches?


MULDER:

They were all belonged to this computer bulletin board called "alt.UFO" 


SCULLY:

Computer geeks?

MULDER:

All interested in UFO and related phenomena. You’re the computer whiz here, 
Scully. I could use your help tracking this one down.

SCULLY:

I’m interested. What’s our first move.

MULDER:

Spokane.


CUT TO - DAYTIME - EXTERIOR - DC 10 in flight.

INT. DAYTIME - DC 10 - Mulder watches Scully fiddle with a lap-top notepad 
computer.


MULDER:

You’ll go blind. 


SCULLY:

You should check out these new machines, Mulder. The department 
has issued them to all its operatives. 


MULDER:

I’ll stick to my trusty pen and notepad, thanks. 


SCULLY:

Luddite. 


MULDER:

And proud of it. 


SCULLY:
[She connects the modem wire to the skyphone on the front of her seat.]

You’ll be roadkill on the Information Highway, Mulder. It’s equipped with 
all the latest Departmental software. Tons of storage space. Even has it’s 
own internal modem so we can tap into the central database.  Here. 
Check it out. A few key-ins. Password. Bingo. The bureau’s central 
computer system at our fingertips. 

MULDER:

Scully, I hate to rain on your parade but what ever happened to face to 
face communication? We’re cocooning ourselves in front of computers 
and fax-machines. Honest-to-god communication between individuals 
is lost. A human being is reduced to an electronic blip on a screen. 


SCULLY:

We seem to be having honest-to-god communication right now. 


MULDER:

Think about it though. If you’re talking to someone face to face - having 
a meaninful conversation and the phone rings. What do you do?


SCULLY:

Answer it.


MULDER:

See. The technology takes precedance over the situation. It intrudes.


SCULLY:

That’s not necessarily true. I think that...

[BELL sounds from computer]

Oops. Got some email coming in here, Mulder. Excuse me for a sec.


MULDER:

The prosecution rests. 


SCULLY:
(reading from screen)

Looks like we’ve got a welcoming committee at the airport. 


MULDER:

Marching band? Keys to the city?


SCULLY:

A Detective Rapson will be meeting us there...

CUT TO - INT. DAYTIME arrival area of airport. Mulder and Scully push through the crowd.


MULDER:

How will we know this guy?


SCULLY:

I don’t know.

[An overly enthusiastic Detective Rapson holds up a homeade sign that reads 
"FBI?"  Mulder sees him first.]


MULDER:
(smiles)

There goes our cover. 


RAPSON:

Welcome to the West Coast. You’re...


SCULLY:

Agent Scully and this is agent Mulder.


RAPSON:
(pumping their hands)

I’m very pleased to meet you guys. Sheesh. FBI. Quite an honour. 
You look surprised to see me.


MULDER:

We don’t usually get such a nice reception from local law enforcement agencies.


RAPSON:

Hah! Professional jealousy between departments, huh? Great. Well, 
you’ll find we’re a little different here in Spokane. I’ve got a car 
waiting for you just outside. I can drop you to your hotel or take 
you straight to the scene. 


MULDER:

Scene of the crime please.


RAPSON:

Hotcha! Getting right down to it, eh? Okay. 

CUT TO - INT. CAR - Rapson drives as Mulder and Scully grill him.


MULDER:

You had a file on Mulholland? 


RAPSON:

Nope. But I understand he had stirred up some hornets with the Bureau.


SCULLY:

Just a nuisance really.


MULDER:

No priors?


RAPSON:

Just a mischief charge. Here we are. 

[Car pulls into small suburban driveway - an older house with "APARTMENT 
FOR RENT" sign on the lawn - A YOUNG MAN - about 21 years old - watches 
them surrepticiously from across the street.]

CUT TO INT. DAYTIME - the staircase of Mulholland’s apartment. 
LUBKOV - the cranky concierge -- walks Mulder, Scully and Rapson 
up to Mulholland’s door]


LUBKOV:

Don’t know what you’d wanna come back here for. Your men took the body 
out days ago.


RAPSON:

Just one more look, Mr. Lubkov.  Thanks for your cooperation.


[Lubkov grumbles and shakes a key-chain filled with hundreds of keys - 
he let’s them into Mulholland’s apartment]

DAYTIME INT. - the apartment - there is evidence of police activity - but most 
of the apartment remains messy except for his computer desk - which 
is mysteriously empty. LUBKOV hangs back at the door - suspicious.


RAPSON:

Found him on the floor over here. Chair was overturned.


SCULLY:

No burn marks.


RAPSON:

Nope.  


MULDER:

Electrical sources.


RAPSON:

Just the wall plug.


MULDER:

This room hasn’t been disturbed by anyone?


RAPSON:

Nope. Apart from removal of the body. This is just how it looked.


SCULLY:

Something’s not right here.


LUBKOV:
(coughs)

Well, I’ll just be getting back to my...


SCULLY:

Mr. Lubkov, had anyone been at this place before the police arrived?


LUBKOV:

Uh...don’t know what you mean. 


SCULLY:

Has anyone removed anything from this apartment?


LUBKOV:

I don’t know what you’re implying here, lady.


SCULLY:

I’m implying that someone’s been tampering with this room.


RAPSON:

What makes you think that?


SCULLY:

Look at this place. It’s a pig-sty. Garbage piled up everywhere. But this 
desk is completely clean and empty. 


RAPSON:

Have you taken anything from this place, Mr. Lubkov? Because if you have 
you can be charged with theft and disturbing the scene of a crime.


LUBKOV:
(sheepishly)

Just took the one thing. 


RAPSON:

What?


LUBKOV:

Just took that stupid computer of his.


SCULLY:

Computer?


LUBKOV:

And some other electronic junk attached to it. Plugs and such.


RAPSON:
(sighs)


SCULLY:

You took it before the police arrived? You stole it?


LUBKOV:

Like hell it wuz stealin’! That bum owed me two months back rent. I knew if the 
police got there before me they’d be taking everything away and I’d never 
see my rent again. I took his damn computer. Yes.


RAPSON:

Where’s the computer now?


LUBKOV:

How the hell would I know? Sold it to some guy through the papers. 


MULDER:

You didn’t get his name?


LUBKOV:

Hell no. Why would I want to do a thing like that? Cash and carry. Don’t ask 
questions. That’s my motto.


SCULLY:

Probably no way to track it. Detective, we’d like to see the body now.


RAPSON:

No problem. We’ve got him at the morgue waiting for you.


MULDER:

Hey, Scully. The morgue - your favourite place.


CUT TO - INT. SPOKANE CITY MORGUE. Rapson pulls out the blackened body 
of Mulholland from a wall freezer compartment. Scully removes the 
covering sheet - she wears rubber gloves and carries a small tape recorder.

RAPSON:

His clothes are in the box beside him. 


SCULLY:
(speaking into tape-recorder)

Subject suffered severe third degree burns to the chest area. Blackened exit 
wound on subject’s side. Also indications of peculiar feathery burn marks 
over most of the body. 

RAPSON:

How do you account for those?


SCULLY:

Whatever current went through this guy followed along the lines of body 
moisture. Probable cause of death...heart stoppage due to massive 
electrical surge.


MULDER:

Lightning. 


SCULLY:

Had to be faulty wiring.


MULDER:

>From a wall socket? You’re crazy.


SCULLY:

Usually I’m the one who says that to you, Mulder.


MULDER:

Wouldn’t the electricity would leave some kind of scorching trace? His clothes 
are untouched.


SCULLY:

It’s unusual. Got any ideas? 

MULDER:

Haven’t got a clue. 


SCULLY:

C’mon Mulder. Where’s your usual hairbrained theory? 


[a strange metallic sound from the other end of the room - their heads turn. 
Mulder looks to Rapson. 

MULDER:
(to Rapson)

Expecting visitors?

RAPSON:
(shrugs)

[Mulder makes his way cautiously between a row of sheet covered corpses. 
He stops at the last body on the row]


MULDER:

Seems like one of your corpses isn’t quite dead yet.

[the body heaves up from the table and grapples with Mulder - it is the young man 
who was watching them outside of Mulholland’s apartment. He makes a break 
for the door but is tripped up by Scully - they pin him to the ground]


RAPSON:

You like hanging around dead bodies, son?


WEASEL:

Lemme go!


RAPSON:

Not until you tell us what you’re doing here.


WEASEL:

I only came to see him. 


SCULLY:

Who?


WEASEL:

William. I wanted to see what he looked like. 


CUT TO - INT. NIGHTIME - police interrogation room. Scully and Mulder grill 
"WEASEL". Rapson watches from a distance.


MULDER:

What’s your name?


WEASEL:

Weasel.


MULDER:

Would that be your first or last name?


WEASEL:

It’s my net.name.


MULDER:

You’re not making any sense.


SCULLY:

The Internet, Mulder. “Weasel” is his nickname on the computer network. 


MULDER:

You’re not going to tell us your real name?


WEASEL:

My name is WEASEL. 


MULDER:

Okay, okay. Why did you want to get a look at Mulholland? 


WEASEL:

I wanted to see what she did to him.


MULDER:

Who’s she?


WEASEL:
[silence]


MULDER:

Okay. Let’s try a different tack. How do you know Mulholland?


WEASEL:

We met on the Net. We belonged to a group.


SCULLY:

alt.UFO?


WEASEL:

How’d you know that? You net.cops or something?
 

MULDER:
(pulls a file from his briefcase)

Recognize any of these names?


WEASEL:
(reading)

These are all group members. They’re all dead.


SCULLY:

We know.

RAPSON:

Okay. Better stop here. You’re saying that Mulholland’s death has something 
to do with a computer network linked up across the country?


SCULLY:

Seems like it.


RAPSON:

Then this is totally out of my jurisdiction. 


MULDER:
(to Weasel)

Is anyone else from the group still alive?


RAPSON:

Hold it. I don’t want to hear anymore.


SCULLY:

Why not, detective?


RAPSON:

‘Cause as far as I’m concerned the case is closed.


MULDER:

You don’t want to get to the bottom of this?


RAPSON:

I already have. Death by electrocution. Computer probably had faulty 
wiring. No way to check it. That’s what my report will say. If you want 
to go hopping around the country chasing wild-gooses - be my guest. 
I’ll be in the canteen getting a coffee if you need me. 

[Rapson exits - puzzled look between Scully and Mulder]


WEASEL:

He doesn’t believe me.


MULDER:

Do you know how these people died.


WEASEL:
(shrugs)
Sort of.


SCULLY:
(pouring on the charm)

Look. What’s your real name?


WEASEL:

...Ed.


SCULLY:

Ed, tell us how these people died.


WEASEL:
(thinks about it for a second)

Can’t really tell ya. Gotta show ya.


MULDER:

Show us what?


WEASEL:

Am I free to go?


MULDER:

I suppose so.


WEASEL:
(hands Mulder a card)

Meet me at this address tonight. Come alone.


SCULLY:

We’ll be there.


WEASEL:

No. - no women. Just him.

[Mulder and Scully exchange glances]

CUT TO INT. NIGHTIME - outside interrogation room - Mulder and Scully walk 
briskly through a corrider]

SCULLY:

Maybe I should tag along.


MULDER:

You heard the man, Scully. No uninvited guests.


SCULLY:

No women you mean.


[they pass a public pay-phone where Rapson is talking intently to someone on 
the phone]


RAPSON:

Just a second. Scully - Mulder.


MULDER:

We’re just on our way out. 


RAPSON:

Can I take you two to for a bite? It’s been a long day. I’d like to make up for 
all your troubles. 


MULDER:

Well, I’ve got some business to take care of but I’m sure Agent Scully here 
wouldn’t mind. Would you, Dana. [he smiles patronizingly]

[a sour look from Scully]


RAPSON:

What do say, Agent Scully? My treat. 


SCULLY:
(slightly pissed off)

Sure. Sure. I haven’t got anything planned for tonight.


MULDER:

See you at the hotel in a few hours. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.


[CUT TO INT. NIGHTIME - cheap lounge restaurant/bar. Scully and Rapson 
sit in a booth. Rapson fills up Scully’s glass with wine. Bad lounge 
music plays.]

RAPSON:

Your Agent Mulder is really gung-ho about this.


SCULLY:

That’s enough wine, thanks. Yes. He can be pretty determined sometimes. 


RAPSON:

Where’s he off to tonight?


SCULLY:

Following up on Weasel’s story, I guess. Why did you walk out of the 
interrogation tonight?


RAPSON:

Instinct. I knew it wasn’t going anywhere. 


SCULLY:

You think it’s all pointless.


RAPSON:

I’m a practical cop. Why make extra paper-work for yourself when it’ll all lead 
to a dead-end anyway. How long has Mulder been with the Bureau?


SCULLY:

Long enough.


RAPSON:

What’s his speciality? 


SCULLY:

Sometimes I wonder that myself.


RAPSON:
(smiles)

Are you his keeper?


SCULLY:

No. He pretty well does what he wants. I just tag along for the ride.

RAPSON:

So what’s Mulder’s next move?


SCULLY:
[silence - she stares into her glass]


RAPSON:

What do you think?


SCULLY:
(smiling)

I think you ask too many questions - even for a cop.  


CUT TO - INT. NIGHTIME - Weasel’s apartment - very similar to Mulholland’s 
place - Weasel sits at his terminal and types furiously. CLOSE-UP of 
Weasel’s face - it drips with sweat - lights from the computer monitor 
flicker off it - the screen can be seen reflected in his eyes - his eyes 
dart involuntarily back and forth - he stops typing suddenly]


WEASEL:

Lily. 


CUT TO - INT. NIGHTIME - Mulder at the door of Weasel's apartment - he knocks.

MULDER:

Weasel, let me in.


[no answer - Mulder listens at the door - then knocks again]

MULDER:

WEASEL.


[the hall lights flicker for a moment - a LOUD THRUMMING SOUND is heard 
from inside the apartment - Mulder pounds on the door - then tries the 
doorknob but gets a strong static charge from the metal - he holds up his 
aching hand and notices that the dial of his watch is spinning furiously - he 
breaks down the door to Weasel's apartment]

INT. NIGHTIME - Weasel's apartment - the room is plunged in smokey 
darkness - remnants of static eletricity shoot from Weasel's computer 
lighting up the room in a strobe-like effect. Mulder stumbles over to 
the computer and finds a very dead Weasel lying on the floor - body 
still smoking and burnt to a crisp. Mulder gags and covers his face 
with a handkerchief - he pulls out a pocket-light and does a quick 
search of the room -- finds a stack of computer printout with names 
and addresses of the UFO computer newsgroup members on it. 
He reads a name from the list...]


MULDER:

Lily...

CUT TO - EXT. DAYTIME - A DC 10 in flight.

DAYTIME INT. of plane - Mulder and Scully sit together in economy class.


SCULLY:
(reads from the computer list)

Lily Ferguson. 


MULDER:

Yep. The only female member of our UFO newsgroup. Resident of Ypsilanti, 
Michigan. Our next stop.


SCULLY:

What exactly happened with Weasel last night, Mulder?


MULDER:

Dead. Just like Mulholland. Whatever killed him is coming through the 
computer.


SCULLY:

That's impossible.


MULDER:

I saw it with my own eyes. We've got to find this Ferguson woman.


SCULLY:

If she's still alive. 


CUT TO - DAYTIME EXT. - CLOSE-UP Mulder's fist knocking on the door of 
Lily Ferguson's house. Her father - a greying man of 65 - answers the door. 


MULDER:

Mr. Ferguson?


Ferguson:
(suspicious)

That's me.


MULDER:
(they flash their badges)
Special Agents Mulder and Scully - FBI. I was wondering if we could have 
a little chat with Lily.

[a wizened old crone of a woman - Mrs. Ferguson - sticks her head out the 
door and shouts]

Mrs. Ferguson:

GO AWAY! We don't need any of your snooping 'round here!


Ferguson:

Hush, Tessa.


Mrs. Ferguson:

Will Ferguson, you can just tell these two to get out of here. I'm not having 
anybody poking their noses into our private affairs.


Ferguson:

Go back to your t.v., ma. If you don't want to talk to these people then don't - 
but me - I'm not about to slam the door on the F.B.I. - specially where 
Lily is concerned. Why don't you two come in and have a seat.

[he opens the door for them - Mrs. Ferguson retreats.]


SCULLY:

Thank you, Mr. Ferguson.

[across the street - an unmarked van pulls up]

INT. DAYTIME - VAN - a man's hands push sound and video equipment 
buttons - a small t.v. screen shows a picture of the exterior of 
the Ferguson's house - the man's hands adjusts the sound quality 
with the twist of a knob - Ferguson's voice can be heard on a speaker.


FADE TO INT. DAYTIME - Ferguson's living room. Mulder, Scully and 
Mr. Ferguson sit while Mrs. Ferguson buzzes in and out of the room.


Mrs. Ferguson:
(placing a pile of stale cookies on the coffee table)

S'pose you'll be wanting coffee and donuts. 


MULDER:

That won't be necessary. Mr. Ferguson, Lily is your daughter?


Ferguson:

Yes.


MULDER:

Where is she now?


Ferguson:

Don't you know? She's dead.


SCULLY:

When did she die?


Ferguson:

March 2nd.


MULDER:
(to Scully)

Well before any of the other reported deaths.


Ferguson:

What deaths?


MULDER:

How did she die?


Mrs. Ferguson:
(interjecting)

You've got no right to ask that question! Don't answer them, Will. 
They've got no right!


Ferguson:

My wife is upset because Lily committed suicide.

[Mrs. Ferguson exits in disgust]

She wasn't a very stable girl, y'see. Lily always had her problems.


SCULLY:

This might sound like a crass question, Mr. Ferguson - but - how did Lily
kill herself?


Ferguson:
(upset from the remembrance)

...she...she burned herself - in her room. Covered herself in kerosene and then 
struck a match. We lost half the upstairs to the flames. We've cleaned up 
most of it but you can still see some of the black on the walls. 


MULDER:
(perplexed)

Did she leave a note?


Ferguson:

None that would have lasted through the flames - no. She might have left 
something on her computer - but that was destroyed as well.


SCULLY:

Computer - did Lily like to play with computers?


Ferguson:

Oh gosh yes. She was always very technical minded and up on the 
latest electronic doo-dads. Once we got her hooked up to that modem 
network thingy she became a completely different person. Seemed 
like her computer friends were the only ones she could really open 
up to. She was always a shy girl around real people.


SCULLY:

Is there anything else you can tell us about her?


Mrs. Ferguson:
(rudely shoves a photo album into Scully's lap)

There! You may as well know it all seeing as my husband has decided to 
air our dirty-laundry in public.

(Scully opens to the first page of the album and reveals a striking black and 
white photo of Lily - she is a beautiful young woman - 21 - with dark 
piercing eyes.)


SCULLY:

She was very beautiful.


Ferguson:

Yes. But she didn't get none of that from us. We were too old to 
have kids. We adopted her at seven years of age.

(Scully turns the page - an faded news clipping with a picture of a young Lily 
standing in a forest - she has a wraith-like appearance to her - the head 
line reads "KASPER-HAUSER GIRL FOUND" - Scully flips through a few 
more pages revealing more paper clippings - "FOUNDLING'S ORIGINS 
UNKOWN", "NO MEMORY" and "DO YOU KNOW THIS GIRL?")


Ferguson:

They found her in the forest just outside of town. She had no recollection of 
where she was from or who she was. The authorities figured she'd been 
beaten up or abused so bad that she'd blocked out all her memories. 
We set her up with a psychiatrist pretty young and she opened up a bit 
after that.


SCULLY:

Did she ever discover who she was?


Ferguson:

Well, no. Nothin' that would make any sense anyway. She'd thought 
she'd been kidnapped. 


MULDER:

By who?


Ferguson:

More like by "what". She always contended she was taken by creatures - 
you know - "aliens" when she was just a child. 


Mrs. Ferguson:

Going to that Army shrink just made her more convinced - so we put a stop 
to that pretty quick!

CUT TO - INT. DAYTIME unmarked VAN - hands adjust sound recording device 
as Ferguson continues to speak.

Mulder:

Army?

Ferguson:
(over van's speaker)

Yeah. The Army took a shine to her case last year. Did some kinda 
tests on her.... 

CUT BACK TO - INT. DAYTIME - Ferguson's living room.

Ferguson:

...but that didn’t help her any.


Scully:
(to Mulder)

Why would the Army be interested in her?

Mulder:

I haven’t got the faintest idea.

Mrs. Ferguson:
(becoming hysterical)

Our daughter wasn't crazy. She was a good girl. She just had bad blood 
in her. Whoever had her first must have done something terrible to her. 
They put the mark on her! 


Ferguson:
(standing - giving her an affectionate hug)

Now, now, Tessa. Go put on the kettle while I see these two people out.

[Mrs. Ferguson exits sniffling] 


MULDER:
(standing)

Thanks for all your help.


Ferguson:
(putting his finger to his lips - whispers)

Just wanted to get her out of the room. See here - we had Lily cremated. 
Seemed like the best thing to do considering the state she was in. 


MULDER:

That was probably for the best.


Ferguson:

But I have to tell you - I know those Army doctors were doing something 
strange to her. Lily told me they’d put things in her - bad things. I just 
had to check. When I got the urn back from the funeral parlor I had a 
look inside. It was ash mostly.


MULDER:

Cremation doesn't leave much behind.


Ferguson:

It left this behind...

[Ferguson pulls a small crystalline object out of his pocket - an opaque tetrahedral 
shape - he hands it to Mulder]

I found it in the ashes. Those doctors must have put it in her.

[Mulder examines it carefully]


SCULLY:

What is it?


Ferguson:

I was hoping you could tell me. I never told the wife about it. That would just set 
her off on one of her rages. 


MULDER:

Mr. Ferguson, do you have a picture of Lily that I could have? 


Ferguson:

Sure.


MULDER:
[he holds up the crystal]

And may I keep this for the moment?



Ferguson:

Mister. If you can find out why my daughter killed herself - you can have everything 
I've got and my life in the bargain.

[they shake hands]


CUT TO EXT. DAYTIME - out side Ferguson’s house - the unmarked van drives off 
as Scully and Mulder get into their car.

INT. DAYTIME - Mulder and Scully in their rental car - Mulder drives.


SCULLY:

Another dead-end.


MULDER:

She’s the key somehow. 


SCULLY:

How do you figure that? She didn’t die like the others. Could be a complete 
coincidence.


MULDER:

She was the first to die - the others followed. 


SCULLY:

So what do we do now?


MULDER:
(hands her a piece of paper)

This came in through the wire this morning. David Morris. Our final chance.


SCULLY:

The only one still left alive.


MULDER:

Yeah. I spoke with his parents this morning on the phone. He’s holed himself 
up in their family cabin near a place called Rock Falls. 


SCULLY:
(sighs)

We’re sure piling up the air-miles on this one.


EXT. DAYTIME - the unmarked van follows their car...

FADE TO BLACK - the sound of crickets and country night noises. 
A READ-OUT on the screen reads "ROCK FALLS, OREGON". 
NIGHTIME EXT. The darkness is broken by the headlights of 
a car - it stops - Mulder and Scully get out of the car and shine 
flashlights into the darkness. A broken down fence and gate 
marks the entrance to the property of DAVID MORRIS' cabin 
in the woods. Scully shines her flashlight past the fence to the cabin.


SCULLY:

No lights on.


MULDER:

He's got to be in there.


SCULLY:

Maybe we're too late.

[in reply a cross-bow bolt rips into a nearbye tree barely missing Mulder 
- it is fired by David Morris - a handsome and intelligent looking young 
man of 22. He emerges from the shadows of the forest and loads 
another bolt into a sophisticated cross-bow]


DAVID:

You have exactly one minute to get in your car and get out of here.


[unphased - Scully and Mulder draw their guns.]


MULDER:

Cool off. We're F.B.I. Are you David Morris?


DAVID:

Do you have a warrant?


MULDER:

We just want to talk with you. 


DAVID:

Well, I don't want to talk to you.


SCULLY:

We want to talk about Lily.


DAVID:
(startled by the name)

Lily.


MULDER:

We know about your group. We know what's been happening.


DAVID:
(snorts)

I don't think you do.


MULDER:

You're Internet friends have all been killed. You're the only one who is left alive. 


SCULLY:

You could be next. You'd better talk to us. 


DAVID:
(lowers the crossbow and shrugs)

Come up to the cabin.

[he opens the gate - but then freezes]

You have any beepers on you?


SCULLY:

I do.


DAVID:

Dump it. No beepers - no cell phones - no laptops - no watches - Nothing 
with a mind of its own. You got that?


MULDER:

Alright.

[starts to remove his shoulder holster]


DAVID:
(snorts)

Hell, you can keep your guns. I don't give a damn about them.

[David walks up the lane towards his cabin - Scully and Mulder trail behind] 

CUT TO - INT. NIGHTIME - inside David's cabin - he lights a kerosene 
lantern with a match. The cabin is illuminated - it is small and 
sparse - with a single bed, a sitting table and an old wood-stove. 


MULDER:
(sitting at the table)

No electricity up here?


DAVID:
(stoking the fire in the woodstove)

No electricity - no phonelines - no television. Nothing.


MULDER:

So you think you're pretty safe.


DAVID:
(after a suspicious pause)

What do you know about Lily? 


MULDER:

Just that she's dead. She committed suicide.


DAVID:
(frowns and stares into the fire)


SCULLY:

Do you know why she did that?


DAVID:
(guilty)

...she killed herself because of me. I broke up with her.


MULDER:

You two were a couple?


DAVID:

On the Net. Yeah. 


SCULLY:

Had you ever met in person?


DAVID:

No. I didn't even know what she looked like.


MULDER:

Then how could you...

[Scully stops Mulder with a glance]


SCULLY:

David, would you like to see what she looked like?


DAVID:
(very interested)

Yes.


[Mulder hands him the photo - David handles it with love]


DAVID:
(after a pause)

She's pretty. 

[he smiles at the irony]

We were going to be married.


SCULLY:

Why did you break it off?


DAVID:

Look, I'm not completely nuts. I finally realized that it wouldn't work. 
We were from different parts of the country - a thousand miles away 
from each other -- with different lives. We'd never even met face to face. 
Things just got too serious too fast and it all got out of hand and...I 
pulled the plug on it. Lily hadn't had any boyfriends before so she 
took it really hard. If I'd have known how unstable she was - I never 
would have let it get that far. But -


SCULLY:

You were in love.


DAVID:

Yeah. I guess I was.


SCULLY:

And now she's gone.


DAVID:
(eyes flash at Scully)

She's not gone. 


SCULLY:

What?


DAVID:

She's still out there. Why do you think I'm barracaded up here?


MULDER:

She's not dead?


DAVID:

Her body's dead - yeah - but something else isn't. Her soul's still alive. 
They kept her alive.


MULDER:

Who is "they"?


DAVID:

I can see that you were shooting me a line about knowing everything 
that was going on.


MULDER:

We know that whatever it is that's killing people is coming through the 
computer link-up. We know that you're the only member of the newsgroup 
who is still alive.


DAVID:

I should have been the first one to die - but I saw it coming and got away 
as soon as I could. When Lily killed herself I knew she'd be coming 
back for us.


SCULLY:

I don't understand you. She's dead.


DAVID:

Most of us in the group - we just liked to blow smoke - y'know? 
Started out as a joke but then got really serious. The group was 
getting too big too. We took a vote and decided to go private - 
so not just anyone could post. I was the moderator - all 
submissions came through me and I approved them for posting 
to the Net. Got better control of the group that way. Sure we had 
our share of crack-pots - like Mulholland - but he was in it from 
the start so you couldn't kick him out. Besides he was just a joke. 
He saw saucers behind every bush and shrub - you wouldn't have 
thought he was serious about it. Everybody thought he was a 
real hoot.

[he stops his story briefly to think - then continues]

But then Lily showed up...and I knew she was the real thing.


MULDER:

How did you know?


DAVID:

The way she wrote. What she talked about. You just knew that 
something weird had happened to her - something special. She 
started sending me tons and tons of stuff. Her story mostly - 
they'd tried to block her memory but she'd remembered everything 
- how she'd been kidnapped - what they'd done to her. 


MULDER:

What had they done to her?


DAVID:

Most people have a pretty primitive idea about what aliens are. They think 
they fly around in spinning tin cans and shiny cigars frightening 
in-bred bubbas in backwood Arkansas. And the aliens are always 
fat-headed - big eyed - with shiny space-suits - totally bogus. You 
think anything like that could survive light-speed or passage through 
a tesseract? Forget it. Lily had the goods on 'em. Knew what they 
really were. Knew how they travelled.


SCULLY:

She told you?


DAVID:

You bet. I posted it to the group too. Hundreds of pages of what she'd found 
out about them. It blew us away. Everyone wanted a piece of her.  She 
liked the attention too. She was a pretty lonely girl.


MULDER:

Do you stil have this data?


DAVID:

Not in hard copy - no. I burned everything when people started dying.


MULDER:

Tell us what she knew.


DAVID:

These things that took her - they weren't tangible like you or me. 
You couldn't touch them - they were like pure energy plasma. 
Lily told us that - when they took her - they had difficulty communicating 
with her. How do you communicate with pure energy? It'd be like 
talking to a moon-beam. So they fashioned some sort of device and 
implanted it in her - it allowed a sort of symbiosis between them. 


SCULLY:

What did they want from her?


DAVID:

Information. They feed on information - it's like their species lifeblood. 
Lily was an experiment of sorts - initially to see if a link could be 
made - but then to see if they could inhabit her - then use her as a 
conduit for the acquisition of information about us. It didn't work 
though. They abandoned the experiment and tossed her away like 
a piece of trash. 

[he tosses another log into the stove]

But she fooled them - she was able to remember everything - and she'd 
learned how to be like them. Knew all their tricks - like how they 
travelled through the power and phone-lines and optical cable.  

MULDER:
(skeptical)

Sentient electricity?


DAVID:

No. They just use it as a conduit - they move faster by surfing on 
currents and signals. The Net interested them a great deal because 
of all the information available on it. She told us that, if she ever 
died, she'd get into the power-lines herself and take us all.


MULDER:

Take you? 


DAVID:

Then we'd all be together with her. She'd take our souls.


MULDER:

And that's exactly what she's doing now.


DAVID:

She'll take me if she gets the chance - I don't want that. I loved her but I like 
my body as it is.


MULDER:

We need to get ahold of this information.


DAVID:

Somebody dumped all the files on the newsgroup. Cancelled the whole thing.


MULDER:

Who?


DAVID:

I don't know. But I managed to down-load a good portion of it to another site 
before they finished.


[a tear-gas canister smashes through the window of the cottage - gas begins to 
fill the room]


SCULLY:

Tear gas! Run for it.


[they all scramble to the door]

EXT. NIGHTIME - outside David's cabin - coughing from the gas Scully, 
Mulder and David stumble into the illuminated darkness. Search lights 
flicker on them - an army chopper buzzes over head. The woods are 
filled with the lights of approaching soldiers - guns drawn. At the head 
of a phalanx of special army corps is Detective Rapson in flak jacket 
and full combat gear. 

MULDER:

I didn't know that Oregon was in your jurisdiction, Detective.


RAPSON:

It's Colonel actually, Mulder. Colonel RAPSON: Army Intelligence Special 
Corps. Mr. Morris, you'll come with me now.


DAVID:

Where's your warrant?!


RAPSON:
(smiles)

Don't need one. I'm afraid there's been a terrible disaster here. 
The governor has declared Martial Law in a fifty mile radius 
around Rock Falls. You're to be evacuated to the nearest 
Army base. Please step into my chopper.


[David makes a move to run but hears the sound of machine 
gun bolts clicking into place and thinks better of it - two soldiers 
hustle him into the waiting into chopper. Scully and Mulder 
approach Rapson]


MULDER:

What's with the John Wayne routine, Rapson?


RAPSON:

I don't like to do anything half-assed. I knew he'd be armed and 
wouldn't come peacefully. Thank you for making sure his attention 
was diverted.


SCULLY:

Why the deception?


RAPSON:

The Spokane police were happy to cooperate. Seems the U.S. Army is 
more respected by local law enforcement officials than the Bureau 
is these days.


MULDER:

C'mon. This hardly seems like a case for the Army. Picking on lowly 
computer geeks. Tsk-tsk. Shouldn't you be out pounding some 
second-rate third-world country, Colonel?


RAPSON:

Our file on you gave no indication that you are so ignorant, Mulder. 
The Internet was *invented* by the Military. It's our baby. So anything 
that threatens it's existence is *our* business. I'll take that little 
item that Ferguson gave you now.


MULDER:

Gee, I'd give it to you if I had it with me. I seem to have misplaced it. 


RAPSON:

See that wizened old trooper there in the bushes, Mulder? He's a 
little too old for the special corps but I like to keep him on. Veteran 
of Nam as a matter of fact - has a special talent for extracting 
information. He could extract a full confession from a v.c. in 
half an hour. Would you like to get to know him a little better?


MULDER:

Can the threats, Colonel. You're stateside now.


RAPSON:
(smiling)

You're right, of course. Besides I don't have time for recreation. 
I propose a deal. 


SCULLY:

Why should we trust you?


RAPSON:

Hey, I'm doing you a favour here. I could just leave you high and dry 
but I need that crystal. In exchange, I'll let you in on what I've got 
planned for David here. 


MULDER:

Deal.


SCULLY:

Mulder! You don't know what he's going to drag us into.


RAPSON:

Probably the successful conclusion of this case. A happy end for 
the Army and the Bureau. I need that crystal. I'm willing to show 
you all we've got.


MULDER:

We'd never get past Army red-tape, Scully. Let's do it.


SCULLY:

Why do I have a bad feeling about this. 


RAPSON:

Chopper's waiting.



CUT TO - EXT. NIGHTIME - a chopper containing Mulder, Scully, Rapson 
and David taking off from the cabin site.


FADE TO - EXT. NIGHTIME - aerial shot of high-security army base. 
READ-OUT on screen reads "CRATER LAKE: MAXIMUM SECURITY ARMY 
FACILITY"


CUT TO INT. NIGHTIME - long futuristic corridor deep within the bowels 
of the army base. Scully and Mulder are led by Rapson.


RAPSON:

Welcome to Crater Lake. You're the first civilians to be allowed in here.


MULDER:
(sarcastically)

We're honoured.


SCULLY:

Where have you taken David?


RAPSON:

All in good time. 

[he turns and a panel of wall opens to reveal a hi-tech command room]


INT. NIGHTIME - Mulder, Scully and Rapson enter the command room. 
There is a computer technician at a terminal - a plate glass window runs 
along the entire length of the back wall looking down onto a larger 
laboratory. 


RAPSON:

Corporal?


A Technician:

All set, Colonel. 


MULDER:

Where is he?


RAPSON:

Down there.

[Rapson points to the room beyond the plate glass - it is a large 
sunken box shaped room - entirely white and empty but for an 
elaborate computer terminal and chair in its center. David is 
strapped to the chair. His hands are trussed to the keyboard]


SCULLY:

Is that really necessary?


RAPSON:

He's been very unco-operative. 

[presses an intercom button]

David, your F.B.I. friends are here.


DAVID:
(voice coming through a speaker)

I should have known you two would be involved in this.


RAPSON:

I want you to access those files that you down-loaded now, David. 


DAVID:

So you can delete them?


RAPSON:

We can't have information like that available to just anyone, David.


DAVID:

Forget it!


RAPSON:

Agent Scully, why don't you have a word with him.


SCULLY:

You don't actually think I condone this sort of crap - do you?


RAPSON:

If you can convince him - I'll let him go.


SCULLY:
(reluctantly)

David, it's Agent Scully.


RAPSON:

Leave me alone.


SCULLY:

I have no control over what they're doing to you. If it was up to 
me I'd let you go - but, given the circumstances, it would be 
better for everybody if you just co-operated. 


DAVID:

I just want to get out of here.


RAPSON:
(taking over again)

We'll let you go, David. You have my word. Just access the files.


DAVID:

Lily will know I'm here the moment I log onto my account.


RAPSON:

So use a different account.


DAVID:

She'll know I'm on anyway. She'll recognize my typing pattern - it's like 
a signature fingerprint.


RAPSON:
(to technician)

Is that true?

[technician shrugs - baffled]

David, we're half a mile into the Earth's crust here. We've got every 
form of surge supressant, a completely independant power source 
and god knows how many fire-walls, security blocks and lock-outs 
on our computer system. If she comes for you - we'll be ready.


MULDER:

What are you going to do if she makes it past all your fancy defences?


RAPSON:
(covering the microphone so David can't here)

I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve, Mulder. Don't pester me. 


DAVID:
(realizing it's his only way out)

Alright. Alright. I'm logging on now.

[his fingers dance across the keyboard - the screen lights up]


RAPSON:

Tell me what you are doing as you progress. No tricks. The 
technicians are monitoring your keystrokes.


DAVID:

I'm accessing the archived files from an anonymous FTP site in Finland. 


RAPSON:
[to technician]

Any unusual net activity, corporal?


Technician:

None, sir.


RAPSON:
[to David]

Download those files to our database.


DAVID:

Downloading.


Technician:

Something now.


RAPSON:

What?


Technician:

No. It's nothing. Just a glitch. 


DAVID:

Downloading completed. Man, this is a fast machine.


RAPSON:

Wipe the files now.


DAVID:

Erasing.


RAPSON:
(to Mulder)

So it's time for you to fulfill your part of the bargain, Mulder. Where is 
the crystal.


MULDER:
(still suspicious)

It's right here.

[he unwraps his handkerchief and displays it.]


RAPSON:

So I could have just taken it from you all along. I must be getting soft.


MULDER:

You're all heart, Colonel.


[They are both startled as the crystal begins to glow a deep red - 
simultaneously a red light starts flashing in the control booth.]


Technician:

It's back again. Someone is trying to hack into our system.


RAPSON:

Can you locate where it's coming from.


Technician:

No sir but it just made it past the 1st level of security clearance.


RAPSON:

Impossible.


Technician:

Must be running some kind of logarthm to fast-track random number and 
letter passwords.


RAPSON:

No programme could do something that fast. Must have been a lucky guess.


Technician:

2nd level of security breached.


RAPSON:

Damn.  Where's it coming from?


Technician:

Unknown. But whatever it is - it's coming straight through the ethernet cable 
- slicing our defenses like a knife through butter...

[a buzzer sounds]


Technician:

Level 3 security breached. It's into our system.

[the lights flicker and the command centre's computer terminals go hay-wire.]

It's taking over all our command systems. 


RAPSON:

Reroute the power flow. 


Technician:

No response.


RAPSON:

Divert the node mapping - try to put it into a virtual loop.


Technician:

No response.


RAPSON:

DAMN IT, CORPORAL! THEN PULL THE PLUG!


Technician:

This board isn't responding, sir. 


MULDER:

You're too late.

[the room is plunged into darkness except for the flashing lights from the 
computer terminals - they rush to the plate glass window and stare into 
the laboratory]

[con't...]

INT. NIGHTIME - the laboratory - lights from the computer terminal and 
static charge flicker giving a colourful strobe effect in the room - 
a blinding form of plasma energy emerges from David's terminal - 
it takes on the ghostly shape of Lily Ferguson's face - she smiles 
as David looks on in horror - he struggles with his bonds but is 
completely trapped. Lily's face moves closer to David's. A hand 
appears from the screen and plunges into David's chest. He screams 
as his body begins to smoke]

INT. NIGHTIME - the control room - reaction shots from Scully, Mulder and Rapson. 


MULDER:

We've got to stop her.

[Mulder grabs a chair and smashes through the window.]

INT. NIGHTIME - the laboratory - David is dead. Lily removes her 
hand from his chest and then notices Mulder breaking the glass - 
she smiles at him and begins to float up to the control room]

INT. NIGHTIME - the control room - they realize that Lily is coming for them.


MULDER:

Whoops. Not a good move.


[The technician is hurled from his terminal by a bolt of static energy. 
Lily floats through the broken plate-glass into the control room. 
Rapson pulls his service revolver and fires several times - to no effect.]


MULDER:

Brilliant military strategy, Colonel. What's your next move - bow and arrow? 

[Rapson is blasted by a static charge and hurled to another end of the 
control-room. Lily looks around the room and spots Scully. She 
smiles and floats towards Scully with her arm outstretched to touch her.]


SCULLY:
(panicking)

Mulder, I could definitely use some help.


[Mulder hurls an office chair towards Lily - it passes right through 
her but diverts her attention - she smiles sweetly and starts to 
approach Mulder]


MULDER:

Get out of here now, Scully. 


SCULLY:

You'll be killed.


MULDER:

Dana, get out...


[Scully remains. Mulder retreats to the furthest corner of the room - 
Lily pursues slowly but then lifts her hand and makes a final rush - 
she converts to pure plasma energy as she hurls herself at Mulder. 
At the last possible second, Mulder pulls the crystal from his jacket 
and holds it in front of his face - Lily's energy form is sucked into 
the crystal - it drops to the floor - all lights flicker back on. After 
a moment to catch his breath, Mulder kneels to examine the crystal.]


RAPSON:
(in pain)

Don't touch it! 

[he hits an emergency button on the wall - sirens sound]


RAPSON:

Let's get out of here.

[They stumble out of the control-room - leaving the crystal behind]


CUT TO - INT. NIGHTIME - an army briefing room - Mulder and Scully 
sit while Rapson is attended to by a medic. Mulder's fist pounds the desk.


MULDER:

Damn it, Colonel. I want answers.


RAPSON:

I've still got a few more questions for you, Mulder. How did you know 
that thing would be sucked into the crystal?


MULDER:

I didn't. We saw what effect bullets had on her. It was either try the 
crystal or show her my badge. 


SCULLY:

Something tells me she wouldn't have come quietly.


RAPSON:

That little stunt saved our bacon. 


MULDER:

What happens now?


RAPSON:

You're free to go. 


MULDER:

Just like that?


RAPSON:

Just like that. 


MULDER:

You don't care what we report.


RAPSON:

Report what you like. The Army will deny everything. 


MULDER:

Naturally.


RAPSON:

I don't want to hear from you two again. 


SCULLY:

Colonel, an innocent man is dead.


RAPSON:

A casualty of war, I'm afraid. 


MULDER:

Gee, last time I checked Congress hadn't declared war on anybody. 


RAPSON:
(cryptically)

I'll let you in on a little secret, Mulder. The next American war will 
not be fought on a battlefield. It's going to be fought in there. 

[he points to a nearbye computer terminal]


MULDER:

Who's the new enemy, Colonel?


RAPSON:
(smiling)

You have ten minutes to get off of Army property. Have a safe flight 
back to Washington.

[they are hustled out by two burly guards]


SCULLY:
(as she is being strong-armed out of the room)

What have you done with the crystal?!


RAPSON:

It's safe.


CUT TO - INT. NIGHTIME - another laboratory. An army technician 
manipulates a pair of robot arms - in a shielded section of the 
room the dormant crystal is placed into a container. It is then sealed 
into several other, larger ceramic containers. The robot arm places 
it in a wall storage compartment with an elaborate lock. Darkness. 
Silence. A small flicker of static charge from the wall unit. 


Roll final credits...