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loc's appreciated and answered: mgreten@xtalwind.net

Spoilers: Fight the Future; Musing of a CSM; vague MythArc Refernces

Archive: I'll send to Gossamer. All others

please inform me of its where abouts. 

S: PG

Summary: Just when you thought it was safe to jump back into the gene pool.

Episode and movie dialogue if any: 1013 writers 



IN OTHER CONTEXT:  The Cancerman Can

ISMS ARRANGED by Mary Greten.

ORIGINAL MATERIAL by Mary Greten.



Scully's first coherent notion, not counting the "I had you big time" she

mumbled to Mulder after what she groggily thought he...  well, never

mind what she thought he did, was that only she and Mulder could find

themselves between the devil and the deep blue sea on a glacier in the

antarctic.   She guesstimated the antarctic by the brightness and the

location of the sun and the mere fact they hadn't been here before.  

How she got here Mulder would have to tell her later.



Still wearied from the exertion exhorted upon her by her now

unconscious alien chasing lothario, rocking and kissing Mulder's

forehead, she wanted to succumb to the same sleep that claimed him. 

She remembered reading that sleeping in the cold was not dangerous. 

Consensus was that a lowering body temperature more likely would

waken her after a brief rest than keep her asleep.  She wagered on the

fifty one percent...



Except that something continued to jab at her as she attempted to settle

into a comfortable position.  Finally after moving about slowly so as not

to re-open Mulder's already serious head wound, she searched her

jacket pockets for the offending whatever.   She found Mulder's Global

Positioning Satellite Monitor which not only confirmed her guess

reckoning, but was evidently "Rube Goldberg"ed with an extra red

touch pad that might as well have had "LGM" etched beneath it. 

Without hesitation, she pressed the button and pocketed the monitor.  



Now fully awake, she felt the slight tremor beneath her.  She didn't

have to put her ear to the track to know the express would be rumbling

through the station at full throttle.  



"Mulder!  Wake up!  Mulder!"  She washed his face with the cold

snow.



"Come on!  Come! on!"



"Five minutes more, Scully, Please.  I'm so tired." Mulder pleaded.



"We've got to move now!  There is no time." She shouted.   



"Scully, Every time you say that, we get into trouble."



"We ARE in trouble!"



She pushed him to his knees, then braced herself against him to rise to

hers.  "Stay on your knees.  We got to spread weight and scramble as fast

as we can over that ridge.   Pray the aftershock will stay this side of it. 

Come on, Mulder, let's make it happen."



Prodding each other, they climbed the snow shoal and allowed gravity

to slide them down to it's other base.  



Scully saw the yellow glare from the snow tractor.  



"Mulder, how much gas is left.?"



Mulder didn't answer.



"Mulder, how much?" 



"It doesn't matter, we are both in no condition to drive."



"I can try, Mulder."



"Cans tied to the back.  Have to gas up.  On empty."



Effecting a compromise, Scully put one can's contents in the tank -

enough to help the stored blankets keep them warm until one of them

regained enough strength to drive the monstrosity.  She diagnosed that,

thankfully, Mulder did not have a concussion and that they just needed

sleep.





Scully awoke to Mulder coaxing her to drink some K-10 and eat a

package of trail mix.   



"Drink and eat something, Scully.  We may be here while."



"Mulder, our clothes, your exposed hair and skin and my entire body is 

evidence and not to be tampered with.  I'll hold out as long as I can."



Mulder, already angsty over again being the cause of yet another Scully

abduction put on his pouting puppy puss.  Scully knew that expression

better than his panic face, but neither was going to work today.   



"Mulder, don't go gnawing on my arm again".  



"How did you know?"



"The night nurse saw you and told me the next morning.  I'm fine. 

Really.   That tube you yanked out of me seemed to have been a

nutritional intravenous of some kind.  I honestly don't feel dehydrated

or hungry right now.  In the next five minutes maybe, butnot this instant."

She both scolded and consoled.  "Do you need help gassing up this thing?"



"No," grinned Mulder like a little boy with a new toy and a playmate to

share it with, "All done.  Time to go 'Varooom, Varoom'".



"Then  ahead best speed, Mulder.  I'm going to rest some more. 

I intend to be a busy little b ...itch when we get back to civilization

taking and overseeing every conceivable evidence analyzing test I

know and then I'm making up some."



"Aye, Aye.  Captain."



"And Mulder?"



"Yeah?"



"Promise me something?"



"Anything, Scully.  You know that."



"Watch out for the trees."



He glanced down at her.



"Had you." she mouthed before she closed her eyes.



Mulder roared louder than the snow tractor's engine.





At first, Mulder, not thinking clearly, thought there was a fly on the

window.  A Fly? In antarctic??? As the insect grew bigger and the

buzzing louder, he realized it must be the plane that the Lone Gun Men

and Skinner decided would be best to get two injured people off the

Ross Ice Shelf.  





The fastest route to the Ross Ice Shelf was torturous.  Skinner suggested

that Mulder be sedated and let him and Frohike tend to the travel 

arrangements until they got him to the Antarctic.  Mulder didn't care as

long as he got there quickly.  The cold and coffee and the need to find 

Scully fast wore off the sedatives before they got the snow tractor fueled.  





Skinner and Frohike.  The nineties' odd couple.  But they clicked. 

Byers was still awed by authority figures and Langly's distaste of

authority figures was palpable.  Frohike intuited a kinship; they both

inhaled.  What Frohike wanted, Skinner wrangled.  



As a Marine in Nam Skinner made some Australian pals and never lost

contact with them.  His friends stood him well.  Marine buddies,

Australian buddies.  He called in most of the soap chips saved over

years from law enforcement hand washings. 



He ultimately wrangled a Royal Flying Doctor Service.  The de

Havilland Austrailia DHA-3 Drover carried two medical staff and two

stretcher patients.   Both men, with similar Scully-like thinking,

demanded evidence collection kits to supplement the medical

equipment.  Two samples of everything were to be taken and duplicate

test results to go the LGM who already had the original Scully's cancer

DNA tests, and the X-Files on CD-Roms.  Skinner learned quickly that

beneath the veneer of UFO crackpots, the LGM were hard core empiricists.





Mulder, this time enjoying a thrill of his life, rode the snow tractor like 

a North American Plains indian's palomino after a white buffalo.  He could

feel the glacier harden beneath him the further from the alien ship's

crater he got.  The plane should have no problem landing.  Good. 

Because he believed in his gut Scully would give up the ghost before

she'd give up the evidence that was herself.  Wait.  Wait.

He didn't press the rescue call button.  



Scully.  She didn't mention his lapse because she had covered it.  How

many times had she done just that before.  How long will she

persevere? Was she at the end of her rope? And was his life's line

fraying too? Mulder stopped the tractor. Cushioning his head with his arms

against the steering wheel wanting desperately not to consider these

possibilities now, he waited for the plane and its passengers to commence

their work.





Once Scully was aboard the Drover-3, she became the pain on the

plane.  She was Henry Higgins, Colonel Pickering, Eliza Doolittle,

patient, victim, chief of forensics.  Mulder lost track of the order of

their appearances.  It was a well orchestrated chaos.  A Scully tour de

force.  He never fully appreciated the Art in her science.  But,

understanding himself too well, he predicted he would forget at the first

beckoning of the next X-file when the solution would be unproven,

disproved or at best a combination of Scully's science and his eccentric

presentiment.





At the hospital in Melbourne, Scully underwent proctoscopies,

endoscopies, stomach pumping and what all else, as much as for health

reasons as well as evidence collection.  Mulder was admitted for the

ostensibly the same reasons.  Actually, Skinner relished the opportunity

of having Mulder's head examined - Pet and Cat scans, MRI - so that when his

superiors tell him he should have Mulder's head checked, he could

say "been there, done that".  An additional plus, Frohike joked that there 

had to be some other scientific value worth the effort.  Skinner was more 

than amused and the men shared a hearty parting laugh at Mulder's expense.

Skinner returned to Washington to set up yet another Office of

Professional Review panel - one he hoped would re-open the X-Files

Department.





When her test results were all in, the doctors pronounced her fit to

leave. An unemployed Scully wearing Frohike purchased underwear, jeans and

sweat shirt immediately appeared at the Hospital Billing Department. 

She needed to plan a schedule of payments with them to begin when

she returned home and secured a new position for herself. Or allow her

time to beg her mother to take an equity loan out on her house.  That

and an early and full distribution of her IRA should cover the costs

entirely.  Of course, the early lump sum withdrawal of her IRA, besides

incurring penalties, would also put her in a higher income bracket

increasing her taxes. 



"Jeez.", Scully bristled at the injustice of justice, "I barter time for 

the world and I have to pay for it."



The Billing Department representative offered Scully a chair while he

called up her charges which scrolled for an eternity of minutes on

the computer screen.  Suddenly, he looked straight at the petite 

red haired woman before him.  



"Scully... Miss Scully, now I remember.  I'm sorry, Miss Scully, but

I can't make any arrangements for payments with you..."



Scully gasped.



"But , Sir, I literally came here in my birthday suit.  No money or credit

cards, assets or identification of my own of any kind.  Will I be able to 

at least leave the hospital to go to the American Consulate or Traveler's

Aid for a visa or work permit assistance?"



"Miss Scully, please collect yourself." The clerk smiled.  "And let me

finish...because a Mr. Jack Colquitt..."



Collect herself!! Scully's mind raced to retrieve that name from her

memory.  

 

"...hours before you were admitted arranged a meeting with our department 

head giving him a handsome pre-payment of your American dollars. 

A most unique situation, indeed. Oh!. The screen has stopped scrolling. 

Now, Let me see.  Ah! yes, Just as I thought. You have change coming.

If you will excuse me, I'll see about issuing you a voucher."



"Wait.  Please." Scully implored.  "Did your supervisor describe Mr. 

Colquitt?  Surely, he must recall something about him for such a unique

situation."



"Well.  I'll let him tell you himself.  I am sure he would like to meet the

object of such intense insinuated emotion as from your benefactor."



"May I use your phone?"



"Of course, I'll be back shortly."



Scully dialed Mulder's extension.  He was still waiting for his dismissal

papers.



"Mulder, it's me.  Send Frohike down to Billing."



"What is it, Scully?"



"I'm not sure yet.  Get him down here." 



Frohike arrived panting for breath.



"Sit down, Frohike, ordered Scully.  "and tell me again who Jack

Colquitt is."



Frohike blanched and stared incredulously at Scully.



"That's what I thought." Scully sighed.





"Ah, Miss Scully.  I am so pleased to meet you." The Billing

Department Manager extended his hand.  "My clerk is at Accounts

Payable this moment obtaining your over payment.  Understand you

have some questions regarding Mr. Colquitt."



"Could you describe him, please.  Jack Colquitt, as far as my friend and 

associate Mr. Frohike and I know, is a fictional character in Quasi-science-

Fiction/intrigue novel."



"By Raul Bloodworth" interjected Frohike.



"The second name is unknown to me.  Mr. Colquitt wore a dark blue

suit, is of average weight and height, wavy black but graying hair

average cut, dark penetrating eyes, seemingly thin lips.  I noticed his 

lips because he smoked constantly using thumb and forefinger."



"Morleys, Sir?"   



"Then, you know the man." concluded the manager.



"Only in passing", answered Scully.



"Good, because he left you a letter which I was instructed to give you

with your refund".  



As the manager was speaking, his assistant stepped inside the office

holding three envelopes.  He handed them one by one to Scully.



"Your refund, your billing statement, and this letter from Mr, Colquitt."



"Thank you", replied Scully rising to leave. The manager stopped her.



"No, please.  Miss Scully, Stay.  I'm sure Mr. Mulder will be released

soon. You are welcome to wait here for him.  We don't mind taking an

early lunch." He nodded, "Goodbye and continued good health to you

both." 



Scully put the refund in her jeans pocket and gave the billing statement

to Frohike for his immediate perusal.



The letter was a tantalizing temptation. To burn it or not to burn it? 

She toyed with the envelope in Holmesian fashion trying to discern its

content from without.   She held it up to the light.  Opaque.  Size 10

envelope, thick, textured, expensive; paper inside probably similar.  

Moving it about in her hand, she felt a familiar object.   She tore the

envelope revealing a small evidence prophylactic wrapped inside 

the folds of a letter. Having opened it, she now felt inexplicably

obliged to read it.  



The letter was hand typed in elite font with small margins - obviously

calculated to get the most on one page.



"Dear Miss Scully,  



"I beg you to give me the benefit of the doubt and read further.



"Other than a personal request at the end of this letter, which you are

absolutely FREE to ignore, there are NO strings attached to my

payment of your medical bills which you can ill afford having resigned

from the FBI.  You will be Agent Scully again. But OPR will quibble

over the cost of your rescue and subsequent fact finding attempts in an

exercise to exculpate their interference and justify the expenses for

their existence.   



"I am sure, in what you would adjudge to have been the beginning, you

considered me your mortal enemy.  By this time, events may have

caused you to ponder my position in the grand scope of the project.  



"I am but an occasionally well-placed knight in a game in which the

rules change erratically and participants must react swiftly and

sometimes harshly to survive.



"I take and I give orders.  I can not always be in total control of errant

pawns that are wild cards in a game they should not be playing.  Events

are put in place in which I am given no say.   I did not order your

abduction and I fought to have you returned; ...they wanted to do so

much more...



"I could not prevent Samantha from being taken; that was Bill's

decision, his last before he left the project.  But I could protect and will

continue to protect the mother.  When the data tape was the smoking

gun and Bill 's alcoholism was threatening the project, I had no choice

but to act harshly.  But, we warned you away; no one was supposed to

be home.   Melissa's death was an unfortunate accident which affected me 

more than you can imagine.  



"I fell out of favor again.  I failed to recruit Mulder to my cause.  But 

still, I would have gotten the cancer remission chip to you myself if push

came to shove. For that transgression, I became a target.  Fortunately, 

on my own, I made my inroads amongst the Jeremiah Smiths of the world, and 

survived my planned demise.  When "they" botched up the Gibson Praise 

incident, I became their fair haired boy again. 



"Because you and Mulder got too close to the Project, I was told to remove 

you both. Reluctant as I am to kill indiscriminately

(although this may not always be apparent), I reasoned the shock and

after effects of the x-files' office arson would be enough of a deterrent

for a while and still keep you both alive.



"Then came the impossible scenario we hadn't planned for.  



"There were five of us who formed a very loose alliance to counteract the

more unconscionable of our group who would trade humanity for their

personal gain.  After the Dallas fiasco, I found myself the only one left

with the field experience to execute our second abduction of you (again

you got too close) only to outdone by a bee.  Ironic, but not that it

matters. My thanks to your deity, I had set my plan in motion. 



"You were to be given a virus and I had to play out a deception to keep my

position in the project, which is imperative that I retain.  I slipped to

my cultured English cohort, who was by then out of favor with the main

group, the coordinates of a base in antarctic to which I was suddenly

given complete control in the 'spirit of co-operation'.   While playing

out his orders to kill Kurtzweil, he was to make contact with Mulder for

the precise reason of saving you because we know, that in the end

analysis, only your science can save us.  I did not expect the virus to

react so quickly to the vacine...I really thought I lost you both...that it

had all gone to hell.  For that moment, I did not want to continue...not

anymore.



"Miss Scully, I have read your thesis "Einstein a new interpretation" in

which you expound that time is a universal invariant.  I disagree from

a personally human standpoint.  Yes, I am human.  Loneliness, once it

loses it's facade of peaceful solitude, distends time which in turn

expands loneliness like a snake eating its tail.  Sometimes I feel

have been alive forever awash in loneliness.  



"I was an orphan.  I noticed in my time at foster homes that families put

time and life in perspective.  Having Bill Mulder as my friend in our

army years, I emotionally adopted his family as my own.  Bill and

Teena were gracious that way. That connection has ceased to exist and

I missed it desperately. But I do have one other memory, which keeps

me going now." 



Now at the end of the page, Scully turned the letter over. She grabbed

Frohike's arm and squeezed it until her fingers hurt.  Frohike  glanced

back and forth from Scully to a picture printed onto the paper. Finally,

he just threw the billing sheets into the air.   



Barring the differences of time, clothes, hairstyle, and minor 

facial markings, she could have been looking at a scanned picture of her

great-grandmother. 



The typing continued beneath the picture.



"Please forgive my sentimentalism, I couldn't part with the original. 



"When I was new army officer, after an assignment abroad, my passage

home was courtesy of the US Navy.  At port, I happened to spot a dark haired

woman, one among many, arms spread wide greeting a returning naval officer.

I stared.  It was rude of me, I know. To be sure, I checked the picture in

my wallet then I lost them in the crowd.



"If you've read this far, you have my deepest gratitude. Unfortunately, I

can't guarantee it means anything for more than the time it takes me to

type his sentence, but you know that by now and you know what it is I

am asking you to do.



"Jack" 





"Well", hummed Frohike, 



" 'Who can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream,

Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream? ' "

  

Scully spread the fingers of one hand over her face while giving him

the evidence sample of a single strand of hair with the other. 



"Between you and me, Frohike. Send this to an independent laboratory and 

unless someone's life depends on it, I don't want to know."



She put the letter in her other jean pocket, crossed her arms in

front of her, leaned back and waited for Mulder. 



Mostly, she needed to get the hell out of there. 



~~~