From: bellefleur <bellefleur1013@yahoo.com>
Date: Mon, 6 Apr 2009 23:58:55 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: The Valley of Shadows 11: Great Minds by bellefleur
Source: direct

TITLE: The Valley of Shadows 11: Great Minds

AUTHOR: bellefleur
E-MAIL: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION: sure, but let me know
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORIES: X/mythology
SPOILERS: The End; The Beginning; Within; Without; Season 9
DISCLAIMER: Not mine; they belong to FOX, CC, etc.  
SUMMARY: A new sense of urgency descends, as Mulder and Scully 
receive new insights about the bigger picture.

Notes: This story is the eleventh part in a series that 
rewrites the end of season 9 and then branches off in its 
own direction.  Read Parts 1 through 10 at: 
www.geocities.com/bellefleur1013/shadows_toc.html

Since it is taking me so long to finish and post this series, 
I have added a page with a detailed summary of each previous 
part to help refresh your memory on the story so far: 
www.geocities.com/bellefleur1013/shadows_det_summ.txt

Special thanks to Mims for the beta.  Any remaining glitches 
are my own.  The pseudo-science is all my own fault.


*****
*****

As he steered his car down the long gravel road leading into 
the small town, the first thing the man noted was how 
uncommonly still it seemed for such a sunny day.  His car was 
the only one on the road.  There were no pedestrians, no one 
sitting on their front porch or entering or exiting buildings.  
He wondered if the quiet was related to the assemblage of 
vehicles parked further down the road, at the other end of 
town.


The initial sign of activity he found was a young Navajo girl 
playing in a yard.  He pulled to a stop in front of the house.  
As he got out of the car, the chill in the air surprised him, 
and he shrugged his overcoat tighter.  His sandy-blond hair 
was kept close-cropped, an ingrained habit from his Marine 
days, which left his ears and neck exposed to the nip of the 
breeze.

With a casual gait and warm smile, he approached where the 
girl sat on a patch of grass.  She was preoccupied with her 
doll and the assortment of odd objects that likely held more 
grandeur in the windows of her imagination.  He was but a few 
steps away from her when she looked up.

He kept his demeanor friendly but assumed an air of authority 
as he pulled out his badge and flashed it at her.  "Hi.  I'm 
looking for somebody.  Do you think you could help me?"

The girl nodded at him, her eyes full of fear and submission.

He took out a picture and showed it to her.  "I'm looking for 
this boy.  Have you seen him around here?"

"Tasbah!"  An older girl stood in the doorway of the house, 
one foot outside and her body partially shielded by the door.  
"Tas, come inside!"

Tasbah gave him one more quick glance, then jumped up and ran 
into the house.  But he had seen enough in her face to know: 
the boy was here.

The door quickly shut, and he slowly made his way toward the 
car.  But there was more to be learned here.  With minimal 
effort, he was able to isolate the sound of their voices and 
tune in to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Who was that man?"

"He had a badge, like on the TV."

"A policeman?"

"No, the other kind.  With the letters."

"FBI?  Did you see his name?"

"It was a bird.  We learned it in school.  Umm...a stork.  No, 
a crane!"

The agent shifted his focus from the conversation.  His 
attention had been drawn by a man approaching one of the cars 
parked down the street.  The form and gait were familiar.  
Zooming in his vision, Crane was able to get a better look.  
He no longer cared what the girls had to say.  The man he 
spotted would lead him exactly where he wanted to go--he had 
just found Fox Mulder.

* * *

Mulder glanced at his watch as he headed for the car, then 
glanced at it again when he realized he had been too 
distracted to register the time on the first look.  It was 
getting to be late in the afternoon, well past William's nap 
time.  He knew Scully would be eager to take their son back to 
the trailer.  But that wasn't why he was preoccupied.

While he drove to the Hosteen property on automatic pilot, 
Mulder's mind was still back in the hogan he had just left and 
the words spoken by the medicine man.  Michael Hosteen was 
gravely ill.  Conventional treatment had failed to help, so a 
medicine man from another town was called in to perform a 
Blessing Way ceremony.  The Hosteens had long been the 
backbone of this tight-knit Navajo community, and everyone 
turned out to participate in the ceremony.  Mulder felt 
honored that he and Skinner were allowed to join in.  It was 
with great reluctance that he had bowed out early to get back 
to his family.

What lingered with Mulder was the medicine man's ominous 
message.  Soon after the ceremony started, he paused the 
Navajo chanting to say, in English, "There are evil spirits 
here."  Mulder felt those words hit him squarely, as though 
through his closed eyes the man was staring directly into 
Mulder's soul.

It had been just over a month--40 days, to be exact--since 
Ruby's funeral.  Their initial urgency to prepare a safe haven 
and to keep watch over their small band of refugees faded as 
the days passed and nothing happened.  Now Mulder wondered if 
they had grown too complacent and lost their vigilance.

They had certainly made progress over the past few weeks.  
Their increased activity turned a jumble of crumbling ruins 
into a network of habitable rooms.  It was far from the lap of 
luxury, but they had set up the basics to accommodate their 
limited number for weeks on end, if necessary.  They continued 
to build a cache of supplies, and were even now working on 
beefing up the security measures.  

But Mulder wondered if it would be enough.  Until Michael fell 
sick, Mulder had relied upon his own certainty that the 
Hosteen legacy provided a degree of protection for them in 
this place, both physically and metaphysically.  And he had 
asked the others to trust in that certainty.  Now, though, 
word of evil spirits gave him a sense of foreboding.  It was a 
bad omen, to be sure.

* * *

"Lion.  Can you say, 'Lion'?  Li--"  

William snatched the animal cracker from Scully's hand before 
she could finish demonstrating with it.  The lion was now 
missing his head.  She suppressed her sigh and fished out 
another cracker.

"What's this?  It looks like a bear.  C'mon, William.  Say 
'bear' for me.  Bay-rr."  He grabbed at the cracker, but she 
pulled it out of his reach.  "No, you have to say it first.  
Bear.  B-b-bay-rr."

He started to whine, and she knew a scream was sure to follow, 
so she relented and handed over the cracker.  He hadn't been 
down for a nap yet, and his patience threshold was low.  
Scully glanced over her shoulder, hoping that William's 
fussing wouldn't crank up to the next level and disrupt 
Susanne's phone call.

While Mulder was in town at the Blessing Way ceremony, Scully 
was spending the day with Susanne at the hogan on the Hosteen 
property where she and Byers had been living.  Byers, Langly, 
and Frohike had run off for the day on a special errand.  The 
set of disposable cell phones were meant to be for emergency 
purposes only, but Scully could tell that the only "emergency" 
behind this call was Byers' separation anxiety from his 
pregnant wife.  To be fair, Susanne had given him reason for 
concern lately with some spotting, but she had checked out 
just fine.  Scully wasn't worried about anything going wrong 
as long as Susanne took it easy.

Scully pulled out another cracker and made one more attempt, 
mostly as a distraction for herself since she was trying not 
to eavesdrop on the phone conversation. 

"Oh, look, it's a monkey!  Just like you.  You're my little 
monkey, aren't you?  Okay, maybe that one's too hard to say."  
She handed over the monkey and extracted another cracker.  
"How about this one?  This is a...I'm not sure what that is."  
William obviously didn't care what it was either, since it 
went straight into his mouth without a second look.  "Here we 
go.  An elephant.  El-e-phant.  Say 'el.'  Can you say that 
for Mommy?  El.  Elll."

But William was cranking up for a good screech, so Scully gave 
him the elephant.  She was grateful to hear Susanne saying "I 
love you too" and ending the phone call.

"How'd it go?" Scully asked.

Susanne set down the phone and pivoted in her chair, as well 
as her generous belly would allow her.  "They made the 
purchase, and somehow they got talked into a little more than 
the asking price."

Scully rolled her eyes.  "Do they have any proof that this 
magical 'force field' really works?"

"John said they were given a small demonstration, but we won't 
know if it will work on a larger scale until we install it and 
test it out at the pueblo."

Scully scrutinized Susanne for a moment, trying to read her 
poker face.  Finally, she asked, "You've been awfully quiet 

about this whole thing, ever since they first mentioned the 
existence of this device.  You know I'm skeptical that it will 
work.  How do you feel about it?"

Susanne sighed.  "Honestly?  I'm more doubtful about the 
seller than the possibility that such technology exists.  
There were weapons and defense systems being tested at White 
Sands that are beyond cutting edge.  Whether they derive from 
alien technology or simply top secret research scientists, I 
don't know.  But I do believe it is theoretically possible to 
create a force field that can block out certain types of 
weapons fire."

Avoiding William's reaching hands, Scully doled out another 
cracker and pulled the box further away from his grasp.  "And 
do you think it's possible we've actually come into possession 
of such a force field?"

Susanne didn't answer right away, but her expression was not 
full of confidence.  "I guess we'll find out soon enough.  
They're on their way home." 

William stopped grabbing for the box so abruptly that Scully 
took notice.  He was looking toward the doorway.  Then she 
heard a car door shut.

"That must be Daddy.  And none too soon.  Hey, Will, can you 
say 'Dada'?  Daddy would love that.  Say 'Dada.'  Da-da."  
Scully was trying to be discreet in her coaching, but when she 
looked up and saw Mulder watching her from the doorway, she 
knew she had been caught.  She tried to tuck away the animal 
crackers before he noticed those as well, but it was too late.

"Scully, he'll talk when he's ready," Mulder said, letting the 
heavy blanket drop closed behind him over the doorway.  "You 
can't force it.  Kids develop at different rates."  

She withheld her retort.  It was an old conversation, and one 
she didn't feel like revisiting, especially in front of 
Susanne.  

Scully felt completely justified in her disquiet about 
William's delayed linguistic development.  Just that morning 
in the grocery store, she'd seen a little boy about William's 
age who was chattering up a storm.  William didn't even string 
together nonsense syllables.  She had no fear that he was 
mute, because he certainly made use of his vocal cords when he 
was cranky or wanted attention.  But she couldn't erase the 
concern that there might be unknown side effects from the 
injection by Jeffrey Spender. 

Instead, Scully eagerly changed the subject.  "Did Walter 
decide to stay?"

Mulder nodded as he walked over to them.  "He's never been to 
one of these ceremonies before, so he wanted to see the whole 
thing."  Leaning down, he kissed William on the head, and then 
kissed Scully on the cheek almost as an afterthought.  He 
straightened up and looked around the hogan.  "Hey, where's 
Gibson?  I thought he wanted to hang out with Will today."

* * *

Tailing Mulder had been easy enough.  Crane was discreet in 
his pursuit, but on dusty, isolated roads, there was a good 
chance of being caught.  He wondered if the former agent had 
lost his edge after leaving the Bureau for the quiet life.

Making the final approach to the house slowly, Crane parked a 
good distance away and continued his pursuit on foot.  He was 
surprised to see that Mulder bypassed the main building for 
the octagonal shack several yards beyond it.  Once Mulder had 
disappeared inside, Crane crept close enough to be within 
range and tuned his hearing toward the interior.

"Hey, where's Gibson?  I thought he wanted to hang out with 
Will today?"

"He's in the house studying.  There's a big exam tomorrow.  
Lit, I think.  He still had some reading to do."

Crane adjusted his optical units to infrared detection and 
inspected the small dwelling for human heat signatures.  There 
were three adults and one child.  He recognized the voice of 
Agent Scully.  That left one unidentified adult.

"I'm glad he's keeping up with his studies, in spite of 
everything," Mulder said.

Tuning out the conversation, Crane shifted his sight to the 
main house.  Only one heat signature, on the other end from 
the outbuilding.  A smaller mass than an adult--just the right 
size for a teenage boy.


Crane checked the outbuilding once more.  Detecting no signs 
of impending exit, he headed for the isolated target in the 
house.


* * *

Mulder walked over to the table and took a seat next to 
Susanne.  "Do we know what time the guys are due back?"

"John just called," Susanne said.  "They should be here in a 
little over an hour."

Mulder wasn't as surprised about the "emergencies only" phone 
call as Scully expected.  "Was the trip a success?" he asked.

Susanne looked to Scully, who answered, "I guess that depends 
on how you define 'success.'"

"Skeptic," he said with affectionate sarcasm.  "Hey, you're 
the one who insisted on top-notch security.  You practically 
dared Frohike into coming up with this scheme."

Scully sat forward in her chair.  "Adobe defenses may have 
been fine and well for the Anasazi--they had nothing more 
serious to deal with than bows and arrows.  But I'd feel a lot 
more comfortable about locking ourselves away in that fortress 
if it were impervious to large explosives."

He smirked at her.  "I believe the exact phrase you used was 
'photon torpedoes.'  How could you expect Frohike to *not* 
rise to the occasion?  In fact, I think he was turned on just 
by hearing that you knew the term."

"It was a joke!"

"Scully, you should know by now these boys take their Star 
Trek very seriously."

"Well, what I take serious--"

"Hep Gips."

Stunned, Scully whipped her head around to look at her son.  
She could have sworn that the sound she heard had come from 
his mouth.

"Gibson.  Hewp."  

Still in shock that William had spoken, Scully didn't 
immediately register the meaning of the two words.  But their 
significance sank in as Mulder sprang into motion.   He was 
out the door in a flash.  

She scrambled for her purse to dig out her gun.

"Dana."

Scully looked over to see Susanne holding out a syringe.  It 
was the magnetite fluid they had injected into Ruby.  Scully 
was suddenly glad for Byers' paranoid insistence that Susanne 
keep a number of these stocked throughout the hogan so she'd 
always have one within reach.

"Watch him?" Scully asked quickly, pausing only to see 
Susanne's nod.  Then Scully was out the door.

The sound of a gunshot spurred her on even faster.  The front 
door to the house was wide open, and she ran through, 
immediately spotting Mulder in the doorway to a back bedroom.

Mulder's gun was pointed at a man she recognized as Agent 
Crane.  The same Agent Crane who had supposedly been killed in 
the FBI parking garage.  Now, he stood staring at his chest in 
fascination, as did Mulder, while a small, blackened hole 
slowly grew in diameter.  She realized Mulder had fired one of 
the magnetite bullets.  Up till now, their effects had only 
been theoretical.

Crane looked up as she entered the room.  The curiosity in his 
gaze shifted to determination, as though he knew his time was 
short.  He swung around and stepped toward Gibson, huddled in 
the far corner of his bed.  A pair of headphones rested on the 
boy's shoulders; the tinny sound blaring out provided eerie 
accompaniment for the macabre scene.

Scully did not hesitate.  She shoved her way past Mulder and 
quickly buried the syringe in the back of Crane's neck, right 
between the protruding ridges.  She swiftly emptied the 
contents and withdrew before he could do more than aimlessly 
swing his arms behind him.

The reaction was even more rapid than it had been with Ruby.  
His jerky movements toppled him to the floor as his veins 
pulsed with thickening blackness.  The gaping hole in his 
chest disintegrated outward inch by inch until nothing was 
left of his torso but a sunken cavity.  The rest of his flesh 
soon followed, flaking away into a pile of greasy soot.  Then 
he was no more.


Mulder looked over at Gibson.  "Are you okay?"

Gibson let out a weak, "Yeah."

"Do you know if he was alone?" Scully asked.

With a shaky hand, Gibson reached over and turned off his 
music.  He closed his eyes briefly, then looked up at her and 
nodded.  "He's the only one."

The three of them shifted their attention to the blackened 
outline on the floor, silent for a moment.

"Well, now we know what those bullets do," Mulder said.  He 
gestured toward the residue.  "We need to clean up every trace 
of this...stuff, just in case."  He turned to Scully.  "Gibson 
can help me with that.  You should gather the troops.  And 
then we need to talk."


That was certainly an understatement.  She nodded and 
gratefully left him to his task.  As she turned to leave, she 
could hear her heart throbbing in her ears, and her limbs felt 
shaky from the aftershocks of the adrenaline.  Even though her 
brain told her that the immediate danger was gone, she found 
herself jogging all the way back to the hogan.

* * *

Since they only had one car with them in town, they finally 
decided Skinner should take Susanne and William to the 
compound, and Mulder, Scully, and Gibson would wait at the 
hogan until the Gunmen arrived.  Despite his earlier hasty 
call to "gather the troops," Mulder preferred that this 
initial conversation be only with Scully and Gibson.

Mulder wasted no time getting down to business once the car 
left.  He paced by the table, where Gibson and Scully were 
seated, and launched into his interrogation.  "Crane came 
specifically for you, didn't he, Gibson?"

Gibson nodded.  "We always knew I was in danger.  That's why I 
was hiding out here."

Mulder mulled that over as he continued to pace.  "Yeah, but 
why you, and why now?  First Ruby, then this.  I'm wondering 
how closely these attacks are related."

"Is this the same reason you were hiding out in Arizona, when 
we found you at the school for the deaf?" Scully asked.

"They've always been afraid of what I am," Gibson replied.  
"First the humans, then the Super Soldiers."

"And what is it that they think you are, Gibson?  What are 
they afraid of?" she asked.

Mulder answered, "It's what you discovered yourself, Scully.  
The God module.  Somehow the potential that resides latent in 
all of us has been turned on in Gibson, and it puts us on a 
level playing field with the aliens.  With a planet full of 
Gibsons, we would no longer be the weak vessels they're 
looking to control."

"But we never found out how that potential was turned on, 
whether it was a result of outside influence or somehow 
naturally occurring," she responded.

Mulder looked at Gibson, then back at Scully.  "Evolution 
happens in leaps."

She glanced from Gibson to Mulder.  "You think Gibson evolved 
this way?"

"I think Gibson is the next step in human evolution."

"Mulder..."

"No, it makes sense, Scully--scientific sense.  You yourself 
ran the tests.  You proved that what Gibson has inside of him, 
that...that DNA--"

"Junk DNA.  The genetic remnant," she said, supplying the 
words he was searching for.

"That genetic remnant is in all of us.  We all have that same 
potential.  The tools are there.  And nature is forcing us to 
make the next leap for the survival of our race.  If humans 
don't evolve, when the aliens arrive we'll go the way of the 
dinosaur.  In fact, I think they'll be able to explain to us 
exactly what happened to the dinosaurs, since it seems like 
they were responsible for that one too."

"Okay, Mulder, supposing for a moment that any of what you're 
saying is correct, how is the evolution of one boy going to 
revolutionize the planet?"

Mulder turned to Gibson.  "Because it's more than just one 
boy, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" Scully asked.

Gibson didn't respond right away, so Mulder did.  "William."

Scully looked back and forth between them, then started 
shaking her head.  "No.  William has nothing to do with this."

Mulder was torn between compassion and exasperation.  She was 
open to so many truths now, except the ones relating to her 
son.  "It has everything to do with William.  Why do you think 
Ruby came after him?"

"Because of what they did to him!  Because of what they 
thought he was!  But he isn't anymore!"

"He isn't," Gibson said.  "But he is like me."

Scully calmed a little.  "Like you how?"

"William can read minds, can't he?" Mulder asked. 

Gibson nodded.  

"That's why his speech seems delayed, Scully, and how he could 
suddenly know Gibson was in trouble and say the words to help 
him."

She looked away, struggling to maintain her composure.  He 
could tell she was processing his words, their logic warring 
against her denial.  He knew she had arrived at some 
acceptance when her eyes flashed to him and she said 
accusingly, "You knew about this?"

"No," Mulder answered.  "I just now put the pieces together."

She turned on Gibson.  "But you knew.  How long?"


He stared at his shoes guiltily.  "A while.  I try to make him 
talk out loud, but he doesn't want to.  He talks to me in his 
head.  And he understands everything you say."

"William's probably a lot more advanced than we realize," 
Mulder said.  "In fact, he's probably withholding speech as a 
way of manipulating the situation."

"Gibson," Scully said, drawing his eye contact.  "It ends NOW.  
No more silent conversations.  William needs to learn how to 
vocalize and how to communicate with his parents.  When you 
talk to him, you will only respond out loud.  Is that clear?"

Gibson nodded meekly.  Mulder almost felt sorry for him, but 
he agreed with everything Scully said.  He was glad she was 
the one with the balls to say it.

Scully sank back in her chair, the energy seeming to drain 
from her.  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her 
nose.  Mulder soothingly rubbed the back of her neck, knowing 
how hard it was for her to take all of this in.

At last, she said, "This still doesn't explain why William has 
this ability, and whether it's related in any way 
to...whatever experiments they were running.  Or to anything 
that was done to me."

Mulder finally sat down at the table with them.  "I think it's 
more likely because of me."  She opened her eyes and looked at 
him.  "My anomalous brain activity?  For a short time, I had 
the same ability as Gibson and William.  I think because it 
was adult onset, I simply didn't have the same capability to 
adapt as a child born with that gift.  Whatever was turned on 
in Gibson naturally, was triggered in me unnaturally, and I 
passed that on to my son."

"It doesn't work that way, Mulder."  She preempted his 
objection.  "*But*, it makes as much sense as any of the rest 
of this."  She glanced at Gibson, who was now withdrawn and 
sulking.  "So, what's your opinion, Gibson?"

Surprised, Gibson looked up.  "I...I think Mulder may be 
right.  I know William isn't a Super Soldier.  I've been 
inside their heads, and he's nothing like them.  He's 
completely human, like me."

Mulder tried not to smile at that last little dig Gibson got 
in.  It reminded him of a phrase he'd once used to describe 
Gibson: more human than human.  And now it applied to Mulder's 
own son.  

Mulder wondered out loud, "I can't help but think, what 
would've happened if Spender hadn't given William the 
injection?  Would he have developed into both an evolved human 
and a Super Soldier?  What would that look like?"

Scully regarded him dubiously but played along.  "He'd have 
superhuman strength and the ability to read minds."

"No."  Mulder got up to pace again, continuing to connect the 
dots.  "He'd have all their strengths, plus the capacity to 
think for himself.  He wouldn't be one of their minions.  He'd 
be greater than them."

"Where are you going with this, Mulder?"

"I'm saying, no wonder they were afraid of him.  Apparently, 
at his birth, they didn't realize yet what he was.  But maybe 
now they've figured it out.  Think about that prophecy, 
Scully, the one you said that cult leader, Josepho, made.  
It's pharaoh and the slaughter of the innocents all over 
again.  They can't let any children like Gibson or William 
survive, because one of them might also be affected by what 
they're putting in the water--the chloramine program--and 
become the very person who can defeat them.  One of them, but 
greater than them."

Scully was wincing and rubbing her forehead.  "For now, 
Mulder, can we stick with how to protect ourselves when more 
of them show up?  If any of what you say is true, then I can't 
believe that Crane will be the last."

"If what I say is true, then it's only just begun." 

* * *

Susanne couldn't tell what time it was when she awoke, only 
that it was sometime after dawn. Her sleep had been restless, 
disturbed by the distractions of a new place and the burdens 
weighing on her mind.

Her bladder was prompting her to get up, but she lay in bed a 
moment longer considering her surroundings.  As of last night, 
their new residence was the recently constructed dormitory at 
the pueblo compound.  It was a two-story structure with three 
bedrooms on each level, built in the wide gap where they had 
cleared out the rubble between the most intact ruins.  On one 
side of the dorm stood the three-story adobe building that led 
to the cave.  On the other side were the two smaller abode 
structures, one of which they were still using as a lab.  

Their bedroom was a decent size, but very utilitarian.  
Nothing except white walls and institutional furniture.  She 
wasn't ready to paint it in nursery colors, but the room 
needed a little personality before she could consider it home. 

Home.  As cozy as it was, this compound was far from the type 
of place where she wanted to raise her children.  She accepted 
that perhaps they were safest here for now, when she was in no 
condition to be on the run and they were among friends and 
allies.  But with her encroaching due date and the fact she 
was expecting twins, she couldn't avoid being anxious about 
giving birth in this place, which presently seemed the most 
likely scenario.  At least with Dana there, they had a doctor 
on hand, but if she needed a C-section or the babies were in 
distress...  There were too many what-ifs, and they continued 
to haunt her.

The group conversation of the night before had done little to 
ease her mind.  They still had the new force field to set up 
and test out, and it sounded like they might need it sooner 
rather than later.  Then, there was the other detail that had 
been omitted from the conversation entirely--what exactly she 
had witnessed with William in the hogan.  Not a word had been 
spoken about it by Mulder or Dana, so Susanne had kept silent 
as well.  She wondered if it was just her imagination that 
Dana had avoided her all evening.

Susanne's body was demanding her attention, and she decided 
she could stay in bed no longer.  The soft breathing behind 
her told her that John wasn't up yet.  She knew yesterday had 
been a long day for him, between the men's extended drive and 
the excitement they came home to, so she was loath to disturb 
his rest.  Sure enough, as soon as she started to struggle out 
of bed, she heard John stirring as well.

"Just a minute, let me help," he said groggily.

Susanne didn't protest, since she didn't seem to have much 
choice.  This bed was higher off the ground than the simple 
futon they used in the hogan, and the mattress was older and a 
bit saggy.  She wondered if there was anything they could do 
about the bed before she got much larger, or if she'd simply 
have to adapt.

"What time is it?" she asked while she waited for him to come 
around the bed to rescue her from the mattress.

"Uh," he looked at his watch, and she wondered if he had left 
it on all night or just put it on while she was wrestling to 
get up.  "Almost 9:00.  I imagine everyone else is up by now."

With a gentle heave-ho, he got her to her feet.  She gathered 

a few things from her suitcase and put on a robe while he 
patiently waited.  Then they started the long trek toward the 
facilities--long, at least, for a woman carrying two babies 
who was told to take it easy.  She hadn't spent much time at 
the compound in the last couple of weeks since she was 
practically on bed rest, so she was interested to see the 
facility in its finished state, in the light of day.  Last 
night, she had been too preoccupied to take much notice.

Their bedroom door, as with all the rooms in the dorm, faced 
the back of the building; the other side of the hallway was 
essentially built right into the hillside.  In deference to 
Susanne's limited mobility, she and John had been given the 
bedroom on the first floor on the end closest to the three-
story building, which housed their common rooms and basic 
supplies.  

Since their water source came from the cave, and the septic 
tank was buried on the far side of the three-story community 
building, the only fully-functioning bathroom facility was on 
that end of the compound.  Thankfully, smaller lavatories were 
built in the dorms, but they were little more than closets 
containing a chemical toilet and a small sink.  In the middle 
of the night, Susanne had made use of the lavatory at the end 
of the hallway; she assumed there was at least one like it 
upstairs.  But this morning, she was looking forward to 
something a little less primitive.

John helped guide her as they shuffled at her slow place.  
Leaning close, he said softly, "You're awfully quiet this 
morning.  Is everything okay?"

She smiled to reassure him.  "Yeah, I'm just tired."  Tired, 
and worried, and deep in thought, but she didn't share any of 
that.  She was grateful that he accepted her words and let 
them make the trip in silence.

They exited the dorm into a foyer that connected to the 
community building.  To the right, at the end of the foyer, 
was the main exit.  But they continued straight ahead, across 
the foyer, through the entrance into the common room.

She and John said polite good-mornings to Frohike, Pat and 
Joe, and a few others gathered around the table.  An informal 
breakfast had been spread out on the sideboard, and some 
people were eating while others pored over papers or chatted.  
But Susanne was on a mission to find the bathroom.  She could 
be social later.

They crossed the common room and passed through the opposing 
door, leading to a small hallway.  The last time she had been 
in this area, it was still largely unfinished, so it was a 
nice surprise to see real walls in place.  A door straight 
ahead of them, across the hall, led to the outside.  She had 
heard about plans for a courtyard out there, for hanging 
laundry and access to the generator room, but she didn't know 
if it was yet completed.  On the other side of that courtyard, 
at the far end of the compound, the trailer was currently 
parked.  Mulder and Dana were still living in there for now, 
where they had more space and their own bathroom.  However, 
Susanne wasn't sure if yesterday's events would cause them to 
move into the dormitory as well.  Rooms had been planned for 
the entire group, but they preferred to remain more 
comfortably spread out for as long as possible.

Down the hallway, another door led to the bathroom, which was 
no more than a single, unisex room with a toilet, sink, and 
shower.  When the compound was at its capacity--as they seemed 
to be heading toward soon--that one bathroom and their limited 
water supply would have to suffice for thirteen people, not 
counting the two little ones on the way.

As Susanne and John approached the bathroom door, Hank, one of 
the ranch hands who had accompanied Pat and Joe, exited.  He 
politely bowed his head and said "Ma'am" as he passed them 
down the hall.  Susanne hadn't really gotten to know him, or 
his buddy Cody, very well over the past weeks, but she figured 
she would have plenty of opportunities now in their close 
quarters.

After a brief knock to ensure it was vacant, John ushered her 
in ahead of him and locked the door behind them.  She was 
pleased to see there had been some attempt at decoration in 
here, although no more than a faded painting on the wall and a 
simple Navajo carving.  These at least helped to offset the 
institutional feel engendered by the sign with a set of rules, 
which included limiting daily shower time to 5 minutes per 
person.  She bit back a smile as she mused whether she 
currently counted as three people.

She and John made quick work of taking their turns in the 
shower (they couldn't have fit in there together if they'd 
wanted to), and she changed into the clean clothes she'd 
brought along.  After he walked her back to the common room, 
he returned to their bedroom to drop off their things.

Susanne filled up her plate at the sideboard, catching bits 
and pieces of dialogue as she scanned the food.  There seemed 
to be at least two different conversations going on, both 
relating to the new gadget John and his friends had brought 

back from their excursion off the reservation.  Bypassing the 
cold cereal, she opted instead for muffins and boiled eggs.  
She wasn't sure how much longer fresh food might be available 
before they would have to rely on their stored supply of dry 
goods and packaged foods.  The MREs she hoped would be a last 
resort.

A new round of greetings behind her caught Susanne's 
attention, and she turned to see Mulder entering the room, 
Dana right behind him with William in her arms.  In case Dana 
was still trying to avoid her, Susanne preempted any 
awkwardness by moving around the far end of the table to take 
her seat, allowing them free access to the food.

Mulder leaned over Frohike's chair to peruse the roughly 
sketched map on the page in front of him.  "You guys figured 
out yet where to put your new Star Trek gizmo?" Mulder asked.  

Joe stretched his arm across the table and indicated a couple 
of markings as he spoke.  "We figure we'll need to dig holes 
here and here, at either end of the compound.  I think we can 
cover the trailer, but I'm not sure about the Winnebago."  He 
tapped his pencil over the rectangle at the opposite end of 
the compound from the trailer, down near the lab.  "The rock 
curves away there, and it may be too much of an angle."

Frohike looked up at Mulder.  "What we're debating now is the 
best way to secure the posts once we drop them into the holes.  
Cement would be the most stable, but I'm not sure if the 
technology is too sensitive to come in direct contact with a 
substance like that."

Susanne froze with her fork midway to her mouth as half the 
heads in the room turned to her, while the other half turned 

to Dana.  Susanne was saved from answering when Dana replied 
sarcastically, "Did you think of checking the owner's manual?"

Mulder ignored her comment and turned back to Frohike.  
"What's the alternative?"

Joe answered, "Some kind of a support apparatus, like a 
tripod, or ropes.  It might be more precarious, though."

Dana set her plate on the table and took a seat near the men.  
Settling William on her lap, she said, "Seriously, why weren't 
these questions answered when you purchased the device?  How 
much do you really know about how it operates--or what to do 
if it doesn't?"

"We know the important stuff," Langly replied defensively.

Susanne felt a pair of hands rest on her shoulders and looked 
up to see John standing behind her chair.  "We were given a 
thorough demonstration of the product," he said.  "Between the 
three of us, I'm sure that we took note of all the significant 
details."

"Please, explain to me these 'details,'" Dana said.  "The 
description last night was a little...vague."

John sat down next to Susanne.  Frohike and Langly seemed 
content to let him tackle her request.  "When sufficiently 

powered, the two poles emit an array of antiparticles, which 
create a field that is contained by a type of plasma window.  
The entire field remains invisible to the naked eye, but when 
an object of any kind crosses the field, the object's 
particles are annihilated by their corresponding 
antiparticles, dissolving the object into nothing more than a 
burst of energy."

"Like a giant bug zapper, only cooler," Langly added, grinning 
broadly.

Disregarding his comment, Dana echoed skeptically, "'When 
sufficiently powered?'"

"We'll probably need to use both generators to keep it 
running," Frohike said.

"Only two?" she asked.  "*If* the technology you're describing 
were even possible, what you're talking about would require a 
particle accelerator--a very large, very expensive particle 
accelerator--which would essentially need its own power grid."

"This isn't your grandma's science," Langly said.  "This stuff 
would blow even Stephen Hawking's mind."

"That remains to be seen," Dana mumbled.

Frohike opened his mouth, but Mulder forestalled any further 
debate with a genial slap on his back.  "Why don't we stop 
talking about it and take this puppy out for a test drive?"

* * *

It was almost noon by the time Scully marched outside to check 
on their progress.  At her request, they were setting up the 
force field slightly further down the valley rather than 
directly outside their compound in case not everything went as 
planned.  The bright sun looked deceptively warm, but it was 
not enough to chase off entirely the chill that clung to the 
shadows.  Scully braced herself against the cool breeze as she 
approached the test site.

They had picked an open spot well apart from the trailer and a 
few feet out from the cliff wall.  One metal pole was propped 
upright on a tripod and secured with wires.  A few yards away, 
Skinner held another pole in place while Joe and Frohike 
tightened something at its base.  Mulder stood back, watching 
the other men.  When he spotted her approaching, he walked 
over to meet her.  

"How's it coming?" she asked.

"They're just about finished putting it up.  Then we can turn 
it on and give it a try.  Is Gibson watching Will, or should 
we wait for him to join us?"

Scully stepped away from him to observe the men working.  "No, 
I left William with Pat.  I haven't talked to Gibson this 
morning."  She didn't feel like elaborating on her frustration 
with the young man.  

Steering the conversation back to the topic at hand, she 
gestured toward the poles, which looked much too short and 
flimsy.  "This isn't at all what I imagined.  Wouldn't we be 

better off just building a brick wall?"

He narrowed his eyes at her sarcasm, but good-naturedly so.  
"Don't knock it till you've tried it, Scully."

"So, you really think this is alien technology?"

"Actually, I've been thinking about that.  The field is made 
of antiparticles--that's related to dark matter, right?  
Successful research into dark matter...does that ring any 
bells?"

She recalled the scientist who was literally afraid of his own 
shadow.  "You mean...?"  


"Dr. Chester Ray Banton."  

"You think he developed this technology?"

"I think it may have been developed based on his research, 
possibly by the government.  We never learned precisely what 
happened to him.  Maybe his greatest fears came true."

"And you're comfortable using this, even if that's the case?" 
 
He shrugged and shot her a rueful half-smile.  "We don't know 
exactly where this technology came from.  We'll probably never 
know for certain.  Besides, I'm not sure we have the luxury of 
being that picky.  At some point, I expect the Super Soldiers 
to wise up and show up with an army larger than one."  

She held her tongue, not wanting to debate the ethics.  She 
well understood that feeling of controlled desperation and 

wondered how many lines they would be forced to cross in the 
course of their battle.  After all, didn't she have in mind to 
add something to public water supplies without public 
knowledge, or even deceptively inoculate the population under 
the guise of a lie?  And she certainly shared his fear that 
their ability to protect themselves would soon be put to the 
test.

"What if this doesn't work?" she mused.  "Do we have a plan 
B?"

"I'm sure it works, Scully.  The boys wouldn't have gambled 
their life savings on it if it didn't."

She pinned him with her glare.  So far, her questions about 
the cost had gone unanswered.  "Their life savings?"

"Figure of speech," he replied, far too quickly and lightly.  
But before she could pursue the matter further, he said, "Hey, 
there's something I want to run by you.  I'd like to ask the 
medicine man--the one treating Michael--to come bless our 
compound.  I probably should've done this a while ago, but now 
that Michael's sick...  It just feels like the right thing to 
do."

She considered ignoring his obvious avoidance and pressing 
ahead about the money, but she knew that would get her 
nowhere.  Instead, she replied, "I have no problem with that.  
And it might be an effective gesture of good will toward the 
elders who let us use this land.  I got the impression from 
Eric that there have been some rumblings of discomfort about 
our presence here, especially with the increase of outsiders 
and threats.  And now, with Michael down..."

Mulder nodded.  "I don't know if they blame us directly for 
his illness, but I know most of them don't believe in mere 
coincidence.  Having the medicine man come out here may be 
just as necessary as his treatment for Michael."

"Have you heard any update on his condition?"

"No.  We haven't had any contact with the town since last 

night.  I'll probably drive back tonight to check in with 
Eric."

Scully withheld the words she wanted to say, which should be 
unnecessary considering the danger they had encountered only 
yesterday.  But as his gaze met hers, she emphasized the 
message with her eyes.  *Be careful.*  His slight smile and 
nod told her that he heard her loud and clear.

"Hey!  You guys ready?"

Their moment was ended by Langly's summons.  The second pole 
was now standing freely like its companion, while the small 
cluster of laborers stood back examining their handiwork.  Joe 
revved up the generator, which had an extension cord running 
to one of the poles, and then came over to join the other men.  
Mulder stepped toward the group, so Scully followed.

"Byers, you want to do the honors?"  Frohike held out what 
looked like a remote, which Byers took from his hand.

"Okay, everyone," Byers said, "stand well clear of the field.  
Whatever you do, do *not* pass between the two poles."

Scully looked nervously over at Mulder.  He didn't return her 
glance, which she suspected was intentional.

"Here goes nothing," Byers mumbled.  He held out the remote 
and flipped a switch.  A red light came on at the base of 
first one pole, then the other, and a soft electrical hum 
filled the air.  Then a deafening alarm started screeching.

"What the hell is that?" Mulder yelled over the noise.

"Proximity alarm," Frohike shouted back.  "Byers, shut it 

off!"

"I'm trying!"  He desperately jabbed at several buttons.  Joe 
and Skinner were covering their ears with their hands.  Scully 
decided that wasn't such a bad idea and did the same.  It 
helped only slightly.

Finally, the hideous noise stopped.  Byers cleared his throat 
and turned to them sheepishly.  "It's a safety measure to 
ensure no one accidentally gets too close.  Maybe we should 
step back a few feet."

Scully was glad to know the device was designed with at least 
some concern for safety.  Whether it had enough safety 
measures to suit her--or was really dangerous enough to 
require safety--was yet to be seen.

"Now what?" Skinner asked.

"It's on,"  Byers answered.  "Now we test it."  

Scully had her doubts but held her tongue.  There was nothing 
visible between the two poles, not even a shimmer or 
distortion of light.  They looked incredibly innocuous.

Mulder leaned over to pick up a rock from the ground.  He held 
it out to Scully.  "You want to throw the opening pitch?"

She shook her head no.  He stepped aside, allowing himself a 
little space, and wound up a dramatic slo-mo pitch.  Then he 
tossed it toward the space between the poles.

In mid-flight, the rock briefly flashed like it had been lit 
up with an electrical charge, then it disappeared.

"What happened?" Scully asked.

"It got zapped," Langly answered.  "Cool, huh?"  He was 
beaming, and obviously impressed.

Scully wasn't so sure.  "It must have bounced off the rock 
face and fallen to the ground."

"Scully, it disintegrated--you saw it," Mulder said quietly 
and deliberately, clearly trying to tamp down his exasperation 
while they had an audience.  

"Mulder, I'm not sure what I saw," she replied tensely, her 
tone lowered to match his.

He placed a hand on her elbow and guided her further down the 
valley.  "C'mon, we'll watch it from the side.  Then you can 

see that nothing is passing through."

When they were safely standing several feet away, looking at 
the poles from the side so the farthest one was blocked by 
their view of the nearest, Mulder called over to the group, 
"Go ahead.  Try it again."

This time Skinner picked up a rock and threw it toward the 
force field.  Scully saw it approach the pole and pass out of 
sight behind it, but it never emerged on the other side.

"See?" Mulder said.  "It vanished.  Just like that.  The field 
works."  He hollered to Skinner, "Try firing a bullet."

Skinner pulled his gun from its holster and aimed at the 
field.  He fired, but there was no resulting change in the 
rock face that he was shooting toward, no evidence that the 
bullet had passed through and hit anything.

She couldn't deny that something remarkable had occurred 
before her eyes.  If this was really a functional field of 
antiparticles that could break apart matter...  The 
implications were frightening.

She turned to Mulder.  "If this works on a rock or a bullet--
it would have the same effect on human flesh?"

"Well, I don't think you want to stick your hand in there to 
find out, but yeah, in theory it can incinerate anything made 
of molecules.  The field essentially soaks up their particles 
and absorbs the energy." 

"Mulder, this thing is incredibly dangerous.  William is very 
mobile now, and fast.  You know how easily he runs off when he 
gets out of our grasp.  My God, if he were to get near this--"

"I know, Scully.  That's why we'll take every precaution."  He 
placed a hand on her back and guided her over to the others 
while they continued talking.  "This isn't the kind of thing 
we leave on all day, or even turn on before we go to bed at 
night.  It's an extreme security measure, to be used for 
emergencies only.  We'll develop a strict protocol for how and 
when it's used."

"Satisfied?" Frohike asked her with a broad grin as they 
rejoined the group.  His smile dropped at her scowl. 

"She's concerned about the safety precautions," Mulder 
explained.  "I was reassuring her that we would use this 
device with extreme care.  Right?"

Byers stepped over to her and said softly, "Believe me, I 
share your concerns.  I have as much at stake here as you do.  
I promise you, we will only use this to protect our families, 
not endanger them."

She nodded, knowing how genuinely he meant those words.  Her 
eyes wandered over to the poles, and she noticed that the red 
lights were dark, indicating the device had already been 
switched off.  Taking a deep breath, she forced down her panic 
to approach this logically.

"Alright, let's talk about safety measures.  How do we keep 
someone from walking through there?  The alarm is a good idea, 
but it's not enough."

"We could rope it off," Frohike suggested.

Scully envisioned a small body running right underneath a 
suspended rope.  She shook her head.

"We could build a brick wall," Mulder offered with a twinkle 
in his eye, throwing her own words back at her.  She turned 
away from him, determined not to let him bait her.

"You know, we still have a lot of adobe bricks left over from 
the collapsed structures we cleared out to make room for the 
dormitory," Joe said.  "It wouldn't be a bad idea to have a 
defensive wall.  It would be no small project, but with all 
hands on deck, I think we could get it up in a day or two."

Joe was obviously quite serious about the idea, so Scully 
didn't interject that Mulder had only been joking.

"How close to the wall could we position the force field?" 
Skinner asked.

"Mere inches, I would think," Frohike replied.  "As long as we 
give it enough room that they're not directly touching.  They 
could be close enough that no one could pass between them, so 
the only the way someone would be endangered by the field is 
if they tried to breach the wall."

"Assuming the field is only turned on when we're all securely 
inside, right?" Scully asked.

"Certainly," Byers answered.

"What about the alarm system?" Mulder inquired.  "With the 
wall that close, it would certainly set it off."

Frohike glanced at Langly.  "We can reprogram it or reposition 
the sensors to face away from the wall."


The conversation paused, and Mulder looked to Scully.  "Well, 
what do you think?"

She glanced at the faces around her watching intently for her 
answer.  Some of them were eager and expectant, others clearly 
shared her concerns.  She let her gaze settle on the device in 
question.  It would not be her first choice in defense 
systems, but it was effective and the best thing they had.  
After all, she was the one who had insisted that they couldn't 
bunker down here without some way of protecting themselves 
against greater fire power.  They were running out of options, 
and possibly time.

She threw up her hands in capitulation.  "Okay, let's do it."

* * *

Mulder could see the poles rising up in the distance as he 
rounded the last curve in the valley, approaching the 
compound.  The previous afternoon and evening had been 
consumed with discussing plans for the wall and beginning 
preparations, so he waited until morning to make his trip into 
town for any news about Michael or the aftermath of Crane's 
arrival.  

Even before Mulder headed out, Hank and Cody had left to buy 

supplies for constructing the wall.  There was a good chance 
they would have to go off the reservation to find what they 
needed, so he expected they wouldn't be back until much later.  
That meant the earliest they could start on the wall was 
tomorrow.  In the meantime, the group had decided to set up 
the poles right away so the force field would be available for 
use in case of a more immediate emergency.

Mulder parked his car by the trailer and wandered over to the 
pole nearest him, already set in cement.  It reached higher 
than it had the day before during the testing, but he wasn't 
sure if it was extended to the full height or could still 
cover more distance.  There was a cord running from the base 
toward the courtyard, where they kept one of the generators.  
The red light wasn't on, but he gave the pole a wide berth 
anyway.

The main activity was near the second pole, on the other end 
of the compound.  They had decided to build a long wall 
running the length of the compound, placing their entrances in 
the perpendicular walls at either end, so that the force field 
could cover the entire length of the wall.  That left them 
with some vulnerability on the sides, unprotected by the force 
field, but the smaller portions of wall would be easier to 
defend and reinforce than the much longer stretch.

"How's it going, guys?" Mulder called out as he drew closer.

Frohike looked up.  "You're just in time, my friend.  The 
quick-dry cement is already hard as a rock."  He tapped the 
cement base with his boot to punctuate his point.  "Langly's 
hooking it up to the generator right now so we can flip this 
baby on and check it out."

"Uh, we're warning everyone first, right?" Mulder asked.

"Of course.  Safety is my middle name."

"I thought your middle name was Herbert." 

"Well, in Swahili, Herbert means 'safety,'" Frohike retorted.  
"Hey, Langly, you ready yet?"

"Yeah, keep your shorts on!" Langly called back.  He emerged 
from the building at the end of the compound, one of the more 
decrepit adobe structures that they had chosen to use as a 
storage area rather than rebuilding it for other use.  Joe was 

right behind him.

"Are you ready?"  At the sound of Byers' voice, Mulder turned 
and saw him standing at the main entryway, between the 
dormitory and the community building.  The wall would be built 
a couple of yards in front of that spot, allowing enough room 
for them to walk around between the wall and the buildings.  

"We're ready," Frohike called back.  "We won't keep it on for 
very long.  Does everyone know what's going on?"


Byers nodded.  "I told them not to come outside until we give 
the all clear."

"Okay, boys, here we go," Frohike said.  He walked out in 
front of the poles to a point about equidistant between them 
and several paces away, while Mulder and the other two 
followed.

"Heads up!" Frohike shouted.  He held out the remote and 
flipped the on switch.  Then he pulled out a small weathered 
Frisbee and extended it to Mulder.  "I found something we can 
sacrifice to the cause."

Mulder took the Frisbee and playfully aimed for Byers' head.  
After a couple pumps of his arm, testing his aim, he let it 
fly.

Just as he released the Frisbee, Skinner stepped out of the 
doorway, right next to Byers.  Mulder was about to call out a 
warning for him to stay back, but he stopped short when the 
Frisbee unexpectedly sailed right through and hit Skinner 
square in the nose.

Mulder cringed and yelled, "Sorry!  I guess it wasn't on yet!"

But Langly spoke up quietly.  "Uh, Dude?  It *is* on."

Mulder looked over at one pole, then the other, and saw that 
both red lights were lit.  He called over to Skinner, "Try 
throwing it back."

The small disc sailed very quickly and unerringly toward 
Mulder's head, but his reflexes kicked in and he grabbed it 
before it hit its target.  He examined the Frisbee, which had 
passed through the field twice and didn't look a bit different 
for it.

"Oh, shit," said Frohike.

Mulder turned to them.  "I thought you tested it out this 
morning before you poured the cement."

Frohike and Langly shared a nervous glance.  Obviously, 
someone had overlooked that step.

Mulder glanced at Frohike and gestured toward a pole.  Frohike 
took the hint and turned it off, waving to Byers and Skinner 
that the coast was clear. 

Joe said, "I think it's the generators.  We're trying to cover 
more distance now, so it needs more power to maintain the 
field.  We have to find some way to crank up the juice."

"Or we'll have to narrow the field," Mulder said.  "How 
difficult would it be to move the poles?"

"We'd need a jackhammer to break up the concrete, and I'd be 
afraid of damaging the poles," Joe answered.  "I think our 
first priority should be working on the power issue."

Skinner and Byers came up alongside them.  "What happened?" 
Skinner asked, still rubbing at the red spot on the bridge on 
his nose.  Joe started to explain, but Mulder's attention was 
drawn to a flicker of light down the valley.  A vehicle was 
approaching in the distance.


Before Mulder could get a good look at it, the vehicle passed 
out of sight where the road curved around a bend.  The dust 
trail it left behind was too light to be Hank and Cody in the 
truck.  Mulder stepped away from the group to watch more 
closely, and they went silent behind him.  Moments like this, 
he wished he had Gibson's--and William's--sixth sense.

The tension drained from him as he recognized the vehicle.  He 
had been expecting these visitors, but he hadn't expected the 
incongruous image of the aging medicine man riding up on the 
back of Eric Hosteen's motorbike.

Mulder turned to his companions.  "We'll have to postpone this 
discussion.  The medicine man is needed in another village 
today, and he was gracious enough to stop by here and do our 
blessing before he left."  He walked over to meet Eric, who 
pulled to a stop a few feet away. 

Mulder waved and waited for the medicine man to dismount.  
Bowing his head respectfully, Mulder greeted him.  "Elder 
Hatathlie, thank you for honoring us with your presence.  I 
appreciate you coming out here on such short notice."

The medicine man returned the gesture and then turned to look 
at the complex.  Mulder examined it with fresh eyes, wondering 
how the man would respond to what he saw.  What once had been 
mere ruins was now a much larger and modernized set of 
buildings.  The three-story structure still retained most of 
its character on the outside, as did the lab building on the 
other end, and the crumbling shed next to it housing one of 
the generators.  But in the middle stood their brand-new 
dormitory, clearly not of the same ancient design.  Even with 
their attempts to blend it in by covering the edifice with 
adobe bricks from the fallen buildings that it had replaced, 
the dorm stood out like a sore thumb.  Mulder had no idea if 
this elder sat on the council to which Michael had presented 
their appeal to build and live here--and if he *was* on the 
council, which side of the argument he may have taken.

The answer to Mulder's musings came in the form of several 
lines of Navajo spoken directly to Eric and accompanying 
gesticulations toward the compound.  Without awaiting the 
younger man's response, the medicine man headed toward the 
main entrance of the buildings.  Mulder came alongside Eric 
and asked quietly, "What did he say?"

Eric replied simply, "He said it's a good thing he's here."

* * *

The small community gathered in a circle inside their common 
room.  Elder Hatathlie took his position in the southwest 
corner of the room, facing east, and began a solemn Navajo 
chant.  Eric stood next to him and translated into English.

"The blessing begins by remembering the story of First Man and 
First Woman, and the blessing of the first hogan."

The medicine man offer a long, melodic chant, then paused.  
Eric's translation, however, was much shorter and toneless.

"First Man and First Woman came to earth from the underworld 
and created a young man and a young woman out of the four 
directions.  They told the young couple they would be the 

source of all life, but then they must pass from this world."  

Mulder watched Eric's body language, how he seemed to be 
absently reciting rather than listening and translating.  
Mulder wondered if Eric was simply telling the story as he 
remembered it from childhood.  If the young man was on track 
to follow in his family's footsteps and become a medicine man 
himself, he showed little enthusiasm for it.

"First Man gathered them up in his medicine bundle, which 
became the first hogan, and he taught them how to bless it.  
To this day, we continue to bless every Navajo home and 
building to honor the Great Spirit and protect us from 
sickness and evil."

The chanting shifted then to singing as the elder lifted his 
basket of cornmeal and began to move around the room.  The 
crowd parted to allow him access as he walked toward the east 
wall.  After dabbing his fingers into the cornmeal, he touched 
the wall as high as he could reach and stroked upward.  He 
continued counterclockwise around the room, repeating the same 
motion on the remaining three walls.

Eric had ceased to translate, but Mulder had a general 
understanding of what was going on; during his time on the 
reservation, he attended one other house blessing, led by 
Michael.  The four directions represented the four sacred 
mountains and were an essential part of Navajo rituals.  Just 
like at their wedding, the cornmeal symbolized their most 
basic sustenance and therefore life and prosperity, qualities 
that Mulder certainly coveted for their new buildings.  He 
felt a sense of peace settle over him as the medicine man 
completed his circuit around the room.

But the peace was short lived.  Elder Hatathlie abruptly ended 
his song and turned to face the door leading toward the main 
entry and the dormitory.  His eyes fixed on Mulder, and 
although the man's lips did not move, Mulder could hear loud 
and clear the same message that had been spoken to him at 
Michael's healing ceremony: "There are evil spirits here."

The elder hastened through the doorway; Eric paused only 
momentarily before following him.  The others were left 
standing there in shock and uncertainty, watching each other 
for a sign how to respond.

Scully shifted William on her hip and leaned toward Mulder to 
say quietly, "I assume that's not how it's supposed to end."

Her comment roused Mulder from his stunned inertia, and he 
quickly turned to follow the medicine man.  Ahead of him, he 
saw Eric disappearing through the door to the dormitory.  A 
soft parade of footfalls fell in step behind him as Mulder 
pursued the two men down the long hallway and out the other 
end of the building.  The door emptied out near the lab, which 
the elder passed without hesitation.  He finally slowed and 
stopped outside the final adobe structure, the one they had 
left mostly in ruins and were using only for storage.

The entire walk, Mulder's mind was racing with the 
implications of this warning.  The medicine man was making a 
beeline toward where they had buried Ruby, and the box 
containing the remnants of Agent Crane.  Mulder began to fear 
that merely burying them near magnetite-laden hills was not 
sufficient to prevent the Super Soldiers from regenerating.  
If that was the case, they were foolishly putting themselves 
in danger.

As Mulder came to a stop next to him, Elder Hatathlie finally 
spoke.  "The dead must be put to rest."  But what seemed like 
a confirmation of Mulder's thoughts then turned to confusion; 
the medicine man lifted his finger and pointed toward the 
doorway of their storage room.  Before Mulder could ask what 
he meant, the elder had passed through the open doorway, so 
Mulder once again followed.

Inside, the man repeated his gesture, this time pointing 
toward the far wall.  The room, once a two-story structure 
built into the side of the hill, was now crumbled down to one 
remaining story with a ceiling that was largely intact.  
However, there was a great deal of debris that they had piled 
to the side, and the mound was blocking the hillside wall--the 
very place that the medicine man was pointing.

As Skinner stepped alongside him, Mulder looked over and 
nodded toward the mound of rubble.  Together, the two men 
began clearing out the pile of rocks and crumbled bricks.  
Skinner retrieved the wheelbarrow that was parked in the 
corner, then grabbed two pairs of work gloves from a stack of 
equipment and tossed a set to Mulder.  Without instructions, 

others silently found ways to contribute, grabbing buckets and 
shovels to help any way they could.

Before long, a hill of debris began to pile up outside as its 
counterpart shrank inside the room, revealing more of the wall 
built into the hillside.  And Mulder started to realize why 
the elder wanted them to clear this wall.

Pawing through the rubble, Mulder shoved aside as much as he 
could, pulling up short when his hand passed through a gap.  
"Hey, guys?  I think we have another cave here."

Curiosity got the adrenaline flowing, and the work took on a 
faster pace.  Stale air filtered out of the opening as it 
continued to grow.  This was no small crevice, like the one 
they had discovered that led to their water source, but a 
passage large enough for even Mulder to go through while only 
slightly stooping.

When the passage was finally clear enough, Mulder turned to 
Elder Hatathlie to see if he wanted to lead the way.  But he 
shook his head and only repeated: "The dead must be put to 

rest."  That didn't encourage Mulder about what he was going 
to find inside.

Thinking about the need for a light, Mulder turned to ask for 
one, only to find Scully standing right behind him with two 
flashlights.  One was extended for him to take.  As she 
flicked on her light, he offered, "Ladies first?"  She shot 
him a sardonic smile and trudged into the darkness ahead of 
him.

The opening stretched into a short passageway, similar to the 
one leading into the cave they had transformed into Scully's 
hideaway, which was now the pantry.  The passage opened into a 
much larger cavern, spacious enough that it was difficult to 
make out the walls on either end without deliberately shining 
the light toward them.  But toward one end of the room, they 
made another discovery.

"Mulder, look."

He turned to see where Scully's light was directed.  At first, 
he thought he was merely looking at more rubble.  But as he 
stepped closer, he began to realize the light-colored objects 
were piles of bones.  Lots and lots of bones.  From the 
medicine man's comment, Mulder fully expected the bones were 
human.

"You think this is a burial chamber?" he asked, not 
particularly eager to venture closer.

But Scully wasn't deterred.  "I don't know, Mulder," she said 
as she crossed the cavern for a closer look.  She squatted 
near the wall and ran her light over the stack.  "The way 
these bones are heaped together, not as discernible 
skeletons...it looks more like a refuse pile."  She picked up 
one long bone and examined the end carefully.  Her puzzled 
expression transformed into one of understanding, and she 
perused the heap again.

"What?" Mulder asked.

Scully tossed down the bone and stood, wiping her hand on  her 
slacks.  "The ends are polished.  And they seem to be mostly 
leg bones--*human* leg bones."

Mulder grimaced, immediately seeing where this was going.  
"They were eaten?"

Scully shrugged.  "We know that cannibalism is the main theory 
for why the Anasazi disappeared without a trace.  I guess now 
we have evidence that they weren't abducted by aliens."

A beam of light from behind him lit up the far wall, and 
Mulder turned to see Frohike emerging through the passage.  
Skinner was standing quietly near the entrance, with only a 
small penlight in his hand, and Mulder wondered if he'd been 
there long enough to observe their discovery.  

Frohike, however, wasn't as subdued in his entrance.  He came 
charging in toward Scully.  "Hey, man, why do the feds get to 
have all the fun?  Oh, yuck!"  He stopped short as his light 
fell on the bones.

Mulder was about to give him a sarcastic retort, but Skinner 
interrupted.  "Mulder, give me your flashlight."

Handing over the light, Mulder asked, "What is it?"

As Skinner shone the light around, his focus was on the far 
ends of the room, not the bones.  "This cave.  It's got to be 
twice the size of our bunker."

At that comment, Scully began to explore as well.  "You're 
right.  Do you think we could connect this to the bunker?"  

Mulder could detect the controlled enthusiasm in her voice.  
In another cave they'd discovered behind the dormitory during 
their construction, an emergency bunker had been set up.  It 
was fortified and stocked with supplies for several weeks.  
But the space was far too small for their entire group to 
spend even a few days holed up together, all sleeping and 
eating and...meeting other bodily needs, practically on top of 
each other.  The bunker was meant as a last resort, but 
connecting or moving it to a more spacious cavern would 
definitely brighten their prospects.

"We should check for tunnels," Skinner replied.

Mulder was eager to join them in their exploration, but he 
also felt a duty to complete what the medicine man had sent 
him in here to do.  They had already delayed the man's 
departure far too long and were in danger of abusing his 
kindness.

"Skinner," Mulder called out.  When Skinner turned, he 
continued, "Give me your penlight.  These bones were the 
reason we were sent in here.  I need to find out what we're 
supposed to do with them."

Skinner nodded and tossed over his penlight.  The thin beam 
was enough to guide Mulder back toward the dim glow of the 
passageway and into the muted light of the storage room.  Joe 
and Langly were hovering near the opening, obviously anxious 
for news of what was happening inside.  Gibson lingered by the 
door, while Pat stood off to the side of the room, trying to 
keep a squirming William from escaping her grasp.  Byers was 
nowhere in sight, and Mulder wondered if he'd remained in the 
common room with Susanne.  

Everyone gathered closer as Mulder emerged.  He briefly 

summarized their discovery of the chamber, but more 
importantly, the bones.  He turned to Elder Hatathlie and 
waited for him to finish his quiet chanting that had continued 
through Mulder's speech.

"You said we need to put the dead to rest.  How should we do 

that?" Mulder asked.

The elder replied in clear English, betraying that his usual 
habit of speaking in Navajo was out of choice rather than 
necessity.  "The Anasazi are not the ancestors of the Navajo.  
They were once our enemy, and they do not deserve a sacred 
burial place.  But their spirits will linger here unless you 
bury them."

The medicine man turned and led the way out of the building.  
He walked beyond the end of their compound, past where the 
Winnebago was parked, and stopped to point down the canyon in 

a direction opposite the town.

"You must take the dead far from here and return by a path 
they cannot follow.  Only one or two men should go.  You must 
spread ash all over your bodies, to protect you from the evil 
spirits.  Once the dead are buried, destroy the tools that you 
used for the grave.  Take great care that you leave no 
footprints returning from the grave, or the spirits will trace 
your steps and follow you home."

Mulder nodded his understanding, if not his complete 
agreement.  He wasn't too sure about the ashes--or about the 
description he'd once heard that the Navajo wore nothing but 
moccasins to a burial.  He had a feeling that when the 
medicine man said to cover their bodies with ash, he literally 
meant *everywhere.*  Maybe they could skip that part.

* * *

After all the excitement earlier in the day, Scully was 
grateful to use packing as an excuse to slip away and find 
some quiet time by herself.  She and Mulder hadn't officially 
decided to move out of the trailer, but the prospect seemed 
more and more likely.  Either way, it would be best to have 
anything of value packed up and ready to go at a moment's 
notice.

As she sorted through the bookshelves in their bedroom, she 
had a hard time focusing on the simple task of deciding which 
books to keep and which could be left behind.  Her thoughts 
were too preoccupied with the revelations of the past couple 
days.  Although she had reluctantly accepted the truth about 
her son and his abilities, the reality was yet to set in.

Without giving it full consideration, Scully tossed the 
paperback novel she held into the discard box and reached for 
the next book on the shelf.  She had meant this time alone as 
a respite, but her churning thoughts wouldn't leave her in 
peace.  She was plagued by the what-ifs, about what William's 
future would be, and if he'd even survive long enough to have 
one.

Trying to shake her dark contemplations, Scully looked down at 
her lap and found the book she had pulled from the shelf was a 
Bible.  Immediately, it brought to mind a phrase that Mulder 
had spoken the other day, one that especially haunted her: the 
slaughter of the innocents.

The story Mulder referenced was from the infancy of Moses, 
when pharaoh ordered the male children killed to prevent the 
Israelites from growing in strength and number.  But Scully 
was drawn to a different passage, another story of a son 
endangered, from the infancy of Jesus.

She flipped to the Gospel of Matthew and reread the account.  
An angel appeared to Joseph in a dream, telling him to take 
his wife and child and flee to Egypt because Herod sought 
their lives.  The king feared a prophecy that a boy had been 
born in Bethlehem who claimed to be "king of the Jews," and so 
he ordered the slaughter of all the male infants in the 
region.  But after the death of Herod, an angel again appeared 
to Joseph and told him, "Arise, and take the young child and 
his mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead 
which sought the young child's life." 

"Scully?"

She started at the sound of Mulder's voice.  He was down the 
hall but appeared in the doorway just as she closed the Bible 
and tucked it into the bedclothes.

"Hey," he said.  "Dinner's about ready.  I wanted everyone to 

sit down and eat together tonight, since a community meal is 
basically the final part of the house blessing ceremony."

Scully moved the half-full box next her to the floor, and 
Mulder sat on the bed in the space it had occupied.  "How did 
the burial go?" she asked.  Walter had volunteered to help 
him, and this was the first she had seen either of them since 
they set to the task shortly after lunch.

He rolled his shoulders.  "The ground wasn't exactly soft.  If 
you hear any moaning tomorrow, that's just me longing for 
Bengay."

She glanced over his face and hands, remembering the 
description he gave her of the typical Navajo rite.  He didn't 

look freshly showered, nor was he gray around the edges.  "You 
didn't follow the instructions to a tee, did you?" she asked 
wryly.

"Uh, no.  We decided to modify them a bit."  Mulder looked 
around the room, as though just noticing she was alone.  
"Where's Will?"

She reached over to the shelf and straightened a couple of 
books that were leaning over.  "He's with Gibson."  She was 
hoping Mulder wouldn't pry further.  As the seconds ticked by 
and he said nothing, she was grateful that he was giving her 
space to express what she was ready to, and no more.  But she 
also felt she owed him an explanation.

"It was wrong of me to try and keep them apart," she 
confessed.  "I didn't realize how deeply the threat to Gibson 
had affected William, but he was genuinely worried about him.  
You should've seen the grin on William's face when I left them 
to play together."

"Gibson's like his big brother," Mulder said lightly.

Scully simply nodded and returned to tidying the books on the 
shelf.  Her decision to give the boys some time alone was a 
gesture of forgiveness and trust toward Gibson, but she still 
had misgivings about leaving the two of them to their private, 
silent world.

Mulder's weight shifted on the bed, and she looked over to see 
him digging under the sheets for the book she stowed there at 
his entrance.  Apparently, she hadn't been as stealthy as she 
thought.  As he extracted the Bible, he didn't say anything 
right away; he merely raised his eyebrows at her and opened to 
the bookmarked page.


"Mary and Joseph?" he asked.  There was no accusation in his 
tone, only curiosity, giving her courage to share her thoughts 
with him.

She lifted a finger and pointed to the final verse she had 
read, about the communication Joseph received from the angel.  
"I was wondering if we'll ever get such a message, that 
everyone seeking our son's life is dead and it's safe to go 
home."

"Well, if I get any angelic visitations during the night, 
you'll be the first to know," he quipped.  She knew he was 
trying to lighten the mood, but she couldn't bring herself to 
smile.

He set the Bible down behind them and reached over to take 
hold of her hand.  "You know, I've been thinking, about all 
this with William and Gibson.  What if...what if the fact that 
this is happening right now--this evolutionary leap, or 
genetic advancement--isn't a coincidence?  What if it's...some 
sort of a gift, to help us fight the aliens?"

"You mean, a gift from God?" she asked, skeptical that he 
would draw such a conclusion.

"God, fate, whatever you want to call it.  Something beyond 
us, with a greater understanding of the bigger picture.  These 
genetic building blocks were woven into our DNA millions of 
years ago, and yet they've sat dormant all this time--until 
now, when we need them the most.  Maybe that was intentional, 
part of a larger plan to give us a fighting chance to save 
ourselves."  


He paused, and she mulled over his words.  Then he added 
softly, "I don't know, maybe it is God."

Scully searched his eyes for the truth.  "Do you really 
believe that?"

His mouth twitched up in a half-smile.  "At this point, I'm 
willing to try anything."


Her eyes fell to the cross necklace still safeguarded around 
his neck.  "Even prayer?" she asked quietly.

"I'll take all the help we can get.  Although, I think I'll 
let you take care of that part.  I figure the Big Guy is more 
likely to listen to you than to me." 

"Sometimes I think the 'Big Guy' listens more closely to the 
people he doesn't hear from as often." 

"Tell you what, I'll give his office a call later and see if 
he can pencil me in.  But right now, we should get to dinner.  
Everyone's waiting."  

He squeezed her hand and rose, gently pulling her up next to 
him.  But instead of turning to leave the room, he tugged her 
closer and wrapped her in his arms.  "I believe in us, 
Scully," he whispered in her ear.  "That's the one thing I'm 
sure of."  With a kiss on her cheek, he released her and 
stepped away.

Scully didn't have the words to respond.  There were too many 
thoughts still roiling inside her.  She placed a palm on his 
chest as she passed him, an acknowledgement and a thank you.  
With his hand on her back, he escorted her out the door.

* * *

They entered the common room to find the gang all there.  Joe 
and Pat were placing a couple of steaming dishes on the table, 
while Byers and Hank distributed napkins and silverware to the 
place settings.  Most of the meals at the compound had been 
cafeteria style, with a spread of food on the sideboard for 
people to come eat as their work schedules allowed.  The 
simple fact that they were intentionally sitting down to a 
formal meal together made the entire occasion feel more 
ceremonial.

Across the room, Langly was standing on a chair, hanging 
something over the door leading toward the main entrance.  

"Hey, Langly, whatcha got there?" Mulder asked.

Langly pulled back to examine his handiwork, and Mulder 
finally got a good look at what he'd been mounting on the 
wall: a wooden plaque with weathered paint that read 
"Esperanza."

"Just a little something I picked up at the scrap yard on our 
trip the other day.  I think it's from a boat."

"What happened to the rest of the boat?" Frohike called out.

"Bite me, Fro," Langly shot back.  "The name survived--that's 
got to bring some sort of luck."

"Esperanza...'Hope,'" Mulder mused.  "That's a good name for 
this place."

Langly beamed at Mulder's words of acceptance and then made a 
smug face at Frohike.  Mulder left them to their antics and 
turned to find Joe approaching him.

"Did you notice those dark clouds on the horizon when you guys 
were coming back?" Joe asked.

Mulder shook his head.  "We were too busy trying to find the 
most circuitous route back without getting lost.  You think 
there's a storm rolling in?"

"Possibly heavy rain, at least, or snow" Joe answered.  "I 
hope it passes overnight and clears up by morning.  We won't 
be able to get much of a start on the wall if it's too wet 
out.  And we still have to fix the power hook-up for the force 
field."

Skinner stepped over and joined the conversation.  "If we 
can't work outside, we can focus our attention on the new 
cave.  That space may prove invaluable as a second bunker."

"Did we ever find any tunnels?" Mulder asked.  He knew there 
were still people in the cavern after he and Skinner had left 
with the last of the bones, but he hadn't heard a final report 
on what the exploration revealed.

"No," Joe replied, "but we did find a couple of smaller holes 
that might provide a good starting point if we need to dig 
through.  We'll have to draw up some plans and determine what 
resources we'll need."

"Right now, I think the most limited resource is time," Mulder 
said.  "We don't know how much we'll have left before the next 
big threat arrives.  None of this will do us any good if we're 
only half-ready when an army of Super Soldiers shows up." 


"Mulder."  He turned at Scully's voice and found her standing 
behind him, rocking William on her shoulder.  Mother and son 
gazed back at him with the same worried expression.  Mulder 
realized he could no longer assume that the boy was too young 
to comprehend the things they discussed, or the dangers they 
faced.

"Pat's bringing in the last dish," Scully said.  "We should 
all get seated."

He nodded and ushered the men toward the table.

There were no assigned places, resulting in a little 
awkwardness and shuffling as everyone found a seat, but soon 
they were all settled.  While it hadn't been a conscious 
choice, Mulder found himself at the head of the table.  The 
long table was a simple wooden one, built by Joe and Cody 
specifically for this space.  Although there were extra 
chairs, it was crafted ideally to seat twelve, which was just 
about perfect for the group's current size.  William counted 

as number thirteen, but Scully held him on her lap since his 
high chair was back in the trailer.  

The room went quiet, and Mulder looked around to see that 
everyone was watching him.  He wasn't sure what they were 
waiting for him to do.  Since he was the one who suggested 
they have the communal meal to cap off the blessing ceremony, 
he figured they expected him to have some special words in 
mind.  He didn't.

With a hint of humor, Mulder lifted his water glass.  
"L'chaim."

Smiles broke out around the table as some echoed his toast and 
tapped their glasses together.

"To hope," Byers contributed.

"To the future," added Frohike.

Mulder took a drink of his water and set down his glass as the 
muted sounds of serving dishes being passed and soft 
conversation started.  His eyes settled on Gibson, seated on 
the other side of Scully and William.  Gibson looked up and 
met his gaze, but Mulder didn't try to sensor or direct his 
thoughts, as he often did when he knew Gibson was listening.

Whatever may come, their future was wrapped up in the fate of 
these two boys.

*****
*****

End part 11.


Notes: Thanks for your patience in awaiting Part 11.  It may
be another long wait before Part 12, since I'm still trying to 
wrestle RL into submission.  But I already have the rest of
this series mapped out, so it just needs to be written.  If
only it would stop expanding and getting more complex on me, I
might be able to write it!


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