Copyright:  Thursday, March 10, 2005 05:40:42 PM         PARADISE ISLAND ATLANTIC OCEAN NOON - DAY 5               Dana Scully hated it when her entire world view suddenly veered off at right angles to reality. Science was her touchstone; logic and reason were the twin foundations of her existence.           Yet in the ten long years she’d been Fox Mulder’s partner, she’d lost count of how often her most basic inner beliefs had been threatened, challenged, and gradually changed. Despite her fierce resistance, she’d learned to see beyond her narrow scientific focus. She’d been forced to accept radical concepts she’d once believed absurd.           So now she could only cling to one stubborn belief, as she scrabbled up the mountainside with undignified speed: her partner was not going insane.           Despite his unsettling behavior inside the spores’ cave, Mulder was not displaying the classic symptoms of delusional paranoia. Therefore, it followed logically that his bizarre claims about the spores’ capabilities could be scientifically substantiated--eventually. If they could manage to remove a sample from the cave without being attacked again, and if they could take it back to Quantico for careful study.           Still, she couldn’t help worry. The last four years had been exceptionally brutal on Mulder. First that radiation from Dr. Barnes’ mysterious alien artifact had hyper-accelerated his agile mind to nearly lethal proportions, and only radical brain surgery had saved his life. Then he’d been kidnaped by the sinister polymorphic Alien Bounty Hunter, and subjected to horrific experiments that had nearly killed him. They’d actually believed him dead for many months, until another abductee had suddenly ‘returned to life’ after his ‘drowned’ body was discovered in the frigid northern seas.           And after enduring all that--then he’d been forced into hiding for a whole year, lest the dreaded alien-hybrid supersoldiers capture and destroy him.           Despite everything, outwardly he seemed mentally stable, and surprisingly well-adjusted. But Scully was certain the trauma ran much deeper than he’d ever admitted to her or, perhaps, even to himself.           If these mysterious spores were reopening those devastating mental wounds, there was no telling how he might react.           On the other hand...           A startling alternative abruptly crystallized in her racing mind, and she stumbled to a halt.           If the spores had been deliberately ‘planted’ here, countless eons ago, could they still bear traces of c-g radiation? By now, it must have seeped into every rock and plant on the island. Perhaps that explained the unexpectedly lush growth carpeting every viable square yard. And the larger-than-usual animal life, like those big fish she’d helped scale earlier.           If the spores really were designed to protect humans from the dreaded alien black-oil virus, perhaps they hadn’t ‘attacked’ her in the cave after all. Maybe, in their own way, they’d been trying to immunize her!           And if that same protection was passed on to anyone eating the island’s food, they’d been affecting Mulder ever since their raft had landed.           But he hadn’t heard those enigmatic ‘voices’ until after he’d sampled water from the hidden pool in their living cave. And ever since then, they’d been calling him, spurring him up the mountainside, until he’d finally discovered their hidden cavern.           Coincidence?           Not likely, not where Fox Mulder was concerned.           So it followed logically that the water itself must hold a higher concentration of the spores’ curative essence. And if they’d already been at work in his body, heightening his senses, rearranging his cellular structure, repairing previous internal injuries--they’d simply been finishing the job that Dr. Barnes’ extraterrestrial artifacts had begun four years ago.           Perhaps that was why he’d gone into shock so quickly when he’d been injured. Those ongoing changes had left him more vulnerable to acute trauma.           It was all speculation, of course, and would have to remain so until they could return to civilization. Still, she could hardly wait to run tests on them both, and study the results!           Unbidden, one hand rose to touch the back of her sunburned neck. A microscopic computer chip was buried there, regulating her metabolism, preventing a return of the nasopharyngeal cancer that had nearly killed her seven years ago.           Brilliant star-studded visions lurked just behind her eyes, making her pulse thud wildly with burgeoning hope.           She wouldn’t trade away a moment of the last decade she’d spent working with Mulder--but the price had been so painfully high! Her health, her hopes of someday having another child, almost her very life!           She barely even dared to pray that the traumatic damage might’ve been undone. Yet if it was true, if it was possible...           Resolutely she forced her mind away from those tantalizing hopes and dreams. Max and Reuben were in danger. Everything else--including verifying what Mulder’s spores might have done to her--would simply have to wait until they were rescued.           She started climbing again. • • • • • •           Max yawned, and rubbed his weary eyes. It was blistering hot up on the mountaintop, even under the tightly-woven vine tarpaulin he and Reuben had rigged amid a trio of small trees. Occasional stray breezes blowing off the ocean didn’t help very much; the open clearing only seemed hotter again afterward. And he was tired of staring out at the empty water. The constant shimmering glare made his head ache.           At first, getting shipwrecked had seemed like a terrific adventure. But it didn’t seem quite so wonderful anymore. He was hot, and dirty, and uncomfortable. Even his stuffy old boarding school seemed appealing now by comparison.           How long was it going to take before someone finally found them?           And if things weren’t bad enough, he was starving! The sun was high overhead, so it must be lunchtime. When was Penny going to bring them some of that freshly-baked fish Esther had promised, five hours and a million years ago? He felt like he hadn’t eaten in a week!           A sudden noise on the western slope made him bolt upright. Finally, time to eat!           Then he glimpsed Agent Scully’s short auburn hair through the thick leaves, and his shoulders sagged. So much for lunch. She was always too busy doing exciting things, like exploring the island, to remember a sensible little thing like food.           He didn’t like Agent Mulder very much--the tall agent’s easy confidence and commanding personality grated on Max’s rebellious young nerves. Agent Scully wasn’t so bad, though. He kinda liked the way she’d tackle anything--even cool gross stuff like gutting fish--despite being a girl. She wasn’t afraid to get mad at him, either, like most of the adults he knew. Spineless wimps, his father called them, sucking up to get special favors. Agent Scully didn’t suck up to anyone!           She and Agent Mulder sure did act silly around each other, though. He’d noticed the subtle glances they sometimes exchanged, when they thought no one else was looking. Why didn’t they just admit how much they liked each other, instead of acting like a couple of grade-school kids? They were both grown-ups, so who was going to care?           "Max!" Her sharp voice brought a guilty flush to his sunburned cheeks. Then she burst from the clinging trees, and he saw that her blue eyes were flashing with worry, not anger. "How quickly can you disassemble those vines, and sweep this area clear of footprints?"           He scrambled to his feet, and gaped at her in blank confusion.           "We’ve got a crisis situation," she warned, her expression grim. "Reuben, I need Mulder’s gun back. Esther and Penny should be joining us shortly."           "Someone’s coming, aren’t they?" The boy launched into motion, and began hurling vine fragments down the steep hillside. Unnoticed, his myriad discomforts magically disappeared in the excitement of actually doing something. "Why aren’t we going back down to the beach?"           Scully hesitated. Reuben had served in the Navy. He understood the need for speed and secrecy. Max was only fifteen, but she’d seen his attitude improve dramatically over the past few days. Would he obey her now, when every moment counted?           "Someone’s coming," she conceded, nodding. "But they aren’t here to rescue us. So we need to erase every sign of our presence, and stay hidden until they leave again."           She grabbed a handful of dried palm fronds from Reuben’s unlit signal fire, and began dragging them across the clearing. "Reuben, see if you can’t scatter this kindling. We may need it again later--but for right now, it’s a dead giveaway that we’re here.           "Mulder and I found something very important hidden in a cave partway down the hill," she added over her shoulder, as the old man moved to obey her terse command. "Krycek and his team of assassins will do anything to protect that secret--even if it means killing us."           Max spun around to gape at her. "What did you find? Buried treasure?"           She gave the vines an extra twitch to hide Reuben’s thin footprints. "Not precisely. The cave was filled with a unique variety of spores--a very primitive form of plant life--that seem able to heal wounds. They may even be able to prevent certain deadly viruses. In the wrong hands," she added with a pensive frown, "they could have devastating results."           "Then we need to protect them!" Reuben exclaimed, thrusting Mulder’s weapon into her hand. "You tell us what to do, eh?"           The old man’s unflagging courage was humbling. Scully felt her throat tighten with unspoken gratitude. "First we need to protect ourselves," she countered, clapping him on one bony shoulder. "Then we can take action against them. Now let’s hurry. Mulder’s probably already waiting for us." • • • • • •           She was wrong. The clearing was empty.           Scully stared around in worried surprise, and ran a quick mental time-check. Half an hour had passed since she and Mulder had exited the spores’ cave. Why hadn’t he returned with Penelope and Esther by now?           His long footprints crisscrossed hers a dozen times in the dust--more damning evidence for her to erase, before Krycek stumbled across them. But if her partner had already been captured, how much time did she have left?           Then she spied a third set of prints, heavier and flat-soled, edging around the clearing’s perimeter toward the dark cave entrance. Esther’s comfortable loafers? Thank goodness, at least one of them had made it safely up the hill.           The spores’ cave was no safe haven for the unwary, though. Esther could be lying helpless inside that misty cavern, barely conscious, lost to reality. And at her age...           "I’m going inside," she decided. "Max, I want you and Reuben to sweep this clearing clean, just like I did up there."           Sudden hot anger flared in the boy’s eyes. "Why do we have to wait out here?" he demanded. "If someone’s trying to kill me, I damned well have the right to see what’s putting my life at risk!           "Besides," he added with a sly grin, "that cave is the first place they’ll look, to make sure their secret’s safe. We can get rid of your footprints twice as fast, if you let me help."           Scully gritted her teeth in frustration. Why did Max have to pick now, of all times, to rebel again?           Before she could frame a scathing retort, Reuben shook his head. "He’s right, you know. A man should be able to face his own dangers. Esther is my responsibility. So Max and I will go find her. You stay here and watch for danger."           The old man’s unexpected authority startled Scully into momentary silence. Then she sighed in weary defeat. "Find her and hurry back outside," she urged. "But for heaven’s sake, don’t touch anything! I don’t know what effect those spores might have on you!"           Max threw her an impudent salute, yanked down some vines from a nearby tree, then turned and darted into the dark tunnel.           Scully glared at the tangle of crackling fronds still clutched in her fist as Reuben hurried after the exuberant boy. Damn Mulder, anyway! He and Penelope should be here by now. What was keeping them?           Krycek!          Suddenly she could almost hear Mulder’s voice in her ear, snarling his enemy’s hated name. Cold chills raced down her spine as she envisioned, all too clearly, the young assassin’s mocking smile.           Nearly nine years had passed since she’d first met Alex Krycek, but she still remembered that day vividly. Assistant Director Skinner had just shut down the X-Files Project, so she and Mulder had been separated and reassigned to different departments. Mulder had been confined to the phone-tap rooms, monitoring endless series of boring telephone calls. She’d been sent back to Quantico as a medical instructor.           Someone high in the Bureau had obviously hoped that splitting them apart would hamper their probing investigations. But Mulder had still found stealthy ways to contact her, and they’d continued working together without Skinner’s knowledge. If anything, secrecy had strengthened their growing partnership.           Alex Krycek had been a fresh-faced, eager young agent who’d avidly hung on Mulder’s every word. He’d found the boy’s fawning attention flattering, perhaps seeing a mirror of his younger self in Krycek’s enthusiasm. So he’d been devastated, a few short weeks later, when Krycek had callously betrayed them, then vanished.           When the rogue agent had returned later to murder Mulder’s father, his allegiance had seemed firmly linked to the shadowy Syndicate. Perhaps it was true that the nefarious Cigarette-Smoking Man had recruited Krycek while he was still in training at Quantico. If so, it helped explain how he’d become such a deadly assassin at such a young age.           Yet there, too, Krycek had apparently turned traitor. Or perhaps he’d grown impatient with the Syndicate’s nebulous promises of power, and he’d struck out on his own. Whatever the cause, he’d grown to hate the treacherous Cigarette-Smoking Man even more than he hated Mulder. And that was saying a lot.           Not that he’d kill Mulder outright. That wasn’t his way. They’d been at odds too many times; their mutual hatred ran too deep. Krycek would need to gloat over Mulder’s capture. He’d use Penelope’s safety as a weapon against his longtime adversary. And he’d win, because the girl was sweet and gentle, too innocent to outwit his sly, cunning treachery. Mulder would risk anything, even death, to protect her.           Poor kid, she was probably scared to death right now!           The clearing was free of prints, though Scully barely remembered quartering it with her wilting fistful of leaves. Even Mulder’s darkened bloodstains had vanished under a fresh coating of dust. Krycek would be hard-pressed now to prove she’d been there.           She hesitated briefly at the cave entrance, debating. Time was slipping away fast--too fast, if Mulder and Penny were in danger. Yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to cross the threshold, and enter that cloying darkness again.           You’re scared, an inner voice mocked as she apprehensively stared into the murky shadows. Dana Scully, courageous FBI agent, terrified of a primitive little plant!           Darkness welled up against her eyes, a bottomless star-streaked void that made her blood run cold. Was this what Mulder had seen, the first time he’d entered the cave?           "Agent Scully!" Max’s clear young voice echoed eerily down the long tunnel. The blackness slowly receded. "Agent Scully, it’s incredible! I never imagined anything like that could exist! Where did they come from?" Hazy light seemed to glow around the boy’s lithe silhouette as he hurried outside, his dirty face alive with excitement.           "Where are Esther and Reuben?" Scully demanded, taking an impulsive step into the cave. Resounding noise instantly enveloped her, vibrating through her entire body. She clapped both hands over her ears, trying to block out the intrusive, clamoring voices.           "They’re right behind me." Max’s reassuring promise cut through the riot of sound, and she clung to it with desperate intensity. "Agent Scully, are you all right?"           "We need to go." She heard her own voice float through the humid air, but she wasn’t in the clearing anymore. She was somewhere else--staring at Penelope’s tear-stained face, hearing Krycek’s mocking voice at her elbow.           She was...           Sweet Jesus, she was seeing through Mulder’s eyes!           Shaken, she stumbled back, and nearly fell into the rippling stream. Max leaped forward and grabbed her arm, steadying her. "Agent Scully, what’s wrong?"           Esther and Reuben were emerging from the darkness, clutching long vines in their gnarled hands. She made a valiant effort to compose herself again. This was no time to succumb to blind panic; they were all depending on her.           "Mulder and Penny are safe," she lied, turning away. "But we aren’t. Krycek’s on his way up the hill right now. Come on, let’s get going."           For a moment she was afraid they might question her instinctive knowledge. But the trio of bedraggled refugees only exchanged a quick unfathomable glance, then obediently followed her into the thick southern underbrush.           Scully’s mind raced in a dozen different directions as she cautiously led them away from the open clearing. Krycek wouldn’t have landed on the island’s eastern side; those high cliffs were too sheer and inhospitable. He’d never have been able to scrabble up that loose shale slope with only one arm.           Logically, then, his men would search the lush western side first. How long could she hope to evade them, with inexperienced civilians hampering her every step?           Reuben and Esther were tired, but it couldn’t be helped. They had to climb over the ridge again, and find shelter amid the windswept eastern cliffs. At least then they could postpone the inevitable. Maybe they’d be lucky enough to find a blowhole deep enough, dry enough, to huddle inside until morning. And during the night, maybe she could devise a plan to even their odds.           Damn it, too much depended on maybe!           Pain tugged at her chest as she turned away from the distant beach--and her missing partner. But Mulder was clever and resourceful. He’d find a way to keep Penelope safe. She was duty-bound to protect Esther, Reuben, and Max.           "Let’s go," she ordered, and resolutely headed back up the mountainside.