Copyright:  Thursday, March 10, 2005 06:21:10 PM         PARADISE ISLAND ATLANTIC OCEAN MID-AFTERNOON - DAY 5               "Sweet dreams, Alex."            The young Syndicate agent’s eyes were wide, glazed with blank shock, as his slender body trembled and convulsed on the damp rocky floor. Mulder gazed down at his prone body, and shook his head in self-disgust. Was that how he and Scully had reacted earlier, when the spores had exploded in their faces? Thank goodness no one had seen them flopping helplessly back and forth, like fish out of water!            Grimacing, he bent down and efficiently disarmed his incapacitated enemy. Then he fumbled with the heels of Krycek’s sturdy boots. A hidden panel gave beneath his questing fingers, and he withdrew a familiar short, silvery cylinder. When he pressed the single switch, a deadly needle-shaped blade sprang from the handle and clicked into place with lethal force. He soberly nodded, and pressed the button a second time. The slender alien gimlet blade vanished.            "Nice little toy you’ve got there," he murmured, nudging his shuddering adversary with one toe. "I think I’ll keep it now, for my own protection. You won’t need it anymore."            Funny how things had ultimately worked out. He’d dragged Krycek to the Tunguska prison camps as a translator, but he’d never intended for the Russian-born assassin to lose an arm. And under different circumstances, he might have hoped that the spores would restore Krycek’s humanity, and regrow his missing arm.            Admit it, Mulder, his nagging conscience prodded. When you learned what had happened, you felt bad about it.            Mulder scowled. Okay, he reluctantly conceded, I suppose I did feel a little twinge of guilt.            More than just a little twinge, his conscience sternly corrected.            Mulder clenched his fist around the deadly alien blade, and spun away. All right, I felt horrible about the entire incident! Are you happy now?            Dammit, it hadn’t been his fault! Krycek had deserved punishment, after all damage he’d done, after all the people he’d callously murdered. How many lives and hopes and futures had he cut short?            An arm for an arm, he snarled at his invisible judge and jury.            And now, a life for a life.            His eyes were cold as he pocketed the blade, then lifted Krycek’s gun and aimed at a spot halfway between the young assassin’s glazed eyes. Now that the spores were spreading their healing magic through his body--Mulder's bullet would succeed where A.D. Skinner’s had failed. Just one brief squeeze on the trigger, and it would all be over. His father’s life would be avenged, and Scully’s sister’s--and God knew how many other innocent victims!            Suddenly Krycek’s ghostly voice seemed to intrude into his troubled thoughts, echoing through the glowing cave with eerie intensity. We did both fight for the same goal, Mulder. You know it’s true!            We are not on the same side! Mulder fumed, tightening his grip. You betrayed us, and everything we stood for! And for what? Money? Power? Is that worth all the deaths, all the pain and suffering you’ve caused?            I could have killed you and Scully a dozen times, brother, Krycek’s hollow mental voice replied. I let you live. We both want the same thing--to keep our world free. And you’d do anything, just as I would, to make that happen.            A long, tense moment of silence passed. Then Mulder muttered a harsh obscenity, and spun away. Krycek was right. He’d traveled to the world’s end to rescue his partner from that immense alien spaceship. How could he do any less for the rest of humanity?            The day will come, Krycek suddenly added, when you’ll beg me for help again. You and Scully will need me more than you’ve ever needed anyone before.            File that under never! Mulder scoffed, shaking his head. He’d sooner die than beg Alex Krycek for anything!            Yet the eerie certainty in his enemy’s echoing mental voice filled him with nameless dread. He’d caught the barest glimpse of a thousand possible futures while he’d been incapacitated by the spores. And in one of them, he had been begging Krycek for help from some dire threat.            Krycek couldn’t be trusted, no matter how sincere he might sound. It’ll never happen, he consoled himself. The variables are too huge, and the probabilities are too tiny to calculate.            Besides, the prospect of allying himself with Alex Krycek, traitor extraordinaire, for any reason quite simply pissed him off.            Fine! Future-may or future-not, he wouldn’t kill Krycek. Not this time. But he damned well had a responsibility to his friends. And Krycek would be incapacitated for at least another hour. That should allow him enough time to find and disable those mercenaries.            "If anything’s happened to Penny or Scully, all bets are off," he scowled. "I swear before God, I’ll come back here, and I’ll finish the job. And nothing you can say or do then will stop me!"            Time was slipping by fast. Scully was perfectly capable of protecting herself--but poor little Penny must be petrified by now! The faster he could rescue her, the better!            He leaned over the bubbling pool to splash cool water across his dusty face. Overhead, the crackling spores began to glow blue. "You behave," he warned, glaring up at their eerie display. "You’ve already done enough to me for one day. I just want a drink of water."            He should have felt silly, talking to a wall full of microscopic plants--yet somehow he knew they understood his benign intentions.            And that raised a most intriguing question: Why hadn’t he been affected by this second exposure to the spore-pollen? The humid air was still thick with yellowish haze, yet he felt perfectly fine. Had this morning’s encounter served as some sort of inoculation process? Was it a permanent effect, or would he need a ‘booster’ sometime in the future? And how long did it take the spores to recharge, anyway?            There were so many things he didn’t know! But perhaps someday, if they could find a way to return...            The spring’s frothy water felt refreshing against his outstretched hands. He thrust his arms deeper into the effervescent liquid, and watched in fascination as the rough rope abrasions vanished. Then he lifted some water to his lips, and drank deeply.            Krycek was still flopping around on the floor like a dying fish. Mulder spared him one last derisive glance, carefully stepped over him, and headed out of the cave. • • • • • •           Every nerve in Max’s weary body vibrated with raw terror as he crept up the steep hillside. Agent Scully was going to have his head for this--if he survived. But he couldn’t stay hidden in those dark catacombs when he just knew that Penny was in danger!            It wasn’t anything definite he could put his finger on, but he still knew--just as she’d known when he broke his leg in Somerset a few years ago.            A flicker of pain darkened his eyes as he briefly remembered that traumatic weekend. First he’d hurt himself playing with some local boys, then his grandfather had died. Murdered, some whispered, though others claimed that he’d committed suicide.            His grandfather had been elegant, dignified--everything that Max yearned to be. It was the first time they’d ever met, and his affection for the resentful boy had seemed cautious and reserved. But it had been genuine, Max knew that now. His grandfather had loved him, despite his autocratic manner.            That helped ease the pain of his loss. And with it, the pain of another perceived rejection, another unfair loss heaped on his young shoulders.            All this time, he’d felt responsible for his grandfather’s untimely death. Maybe if he hadn’t gone to Somerset--or if he hadn’t been so clumsy and broken his leg--his grandfather wouldn’t have felt compelled to kill himself.            And if it really had been murder...            But no, he still couldn’t bear to think about that.            It was clear to him now, though--maybe because he was so close to death himself--that he hadn’t been to blame. His presence had been irrelevant in the final equation. And maybe, just maybe, he’d been able to bring the distinguished old gentleman a few moments of happiness before his tragic death.            A tremendous weight faded from his troubled soul, leaving him oddly at peace.           He was nearing the mountain’s crest. Nothing stirred. But that didn’t mean anything. Trained assassins could be within mere feet of him, and he’d never know until it was too late.            Another thrill of fear tingled down his spine as a bird squawked somewhere off to his right. Was it really another of those bright-feathered parrots, or a killer’s signal to his partner as they closed in on him?            He veered around their lookout clearing to avoid leaving tracks, and cautiously peered down the western slope.            Still nothing moved.            Well, it was a pretty big island. He didn’t know how many men Krycek had brought, but they could easily be off searching other areas.            It was a reassuring thought, yet he knew better than to relax his guard. Even one small mistake could cost his and Penny’s lives.            Agent Mulder was going to be furious with him, too, but right now he didn’t care. Someday he’d be big and powerful enough to look that FBI agent in the eye, and prove that he wasn’t a kid anymore. And when that day came...            Maybe--maybe he’d even be an FBI agent himself someday! Why not, his father was always bemoaning the lack of good government agents! And when he retired, then he could take over his father’s vast industries.            The exciting notion took rapid fire in his vivid imagination. He could be a Special Agent just like Mulder, and Penny could be his partner like Agent Scully! And together they’d solve all kinds of impossible cases, and his father would finally be proud of him!            But in the meantime, he had a more important mission to accomplish. His very first case, to rescue his future partner. His chest swelled with excitement and pride. And fear, a future FBI agent could be honest enough to admit that.            I’m coming, Penny, he promised, staring down at the distant beach. Hang on just a little longer! • • • • • •           Damn Max, anyway!            Scully clenched both fists in frustration, and glared at the sunlit opening above her head. She’d been a fool, for not realizing earlier why his story hadn’t quite jibed. He must have known about this little exit all along! How else could he have escaped the catacombs the other day, when he’d been exploring? The rising tide would’ve already been blocking the main entrance then, just as it was now.            Crazy kid, he was going to get himself killed out there! This was no Hollywood movie set, where the bad guys fired blanks, and the hero always survived. He had no concept of the dangers involved!            If he was captured, Krycek’s men would force him to reveal their hiding place. And then they’d all be at risk. She needed to follow him, and protect him from his own folly.            The damp walls glittered as she spun and rushed back down the sloping passageway. She was blind to their unearthly beauty; her thoughts were turned inward as she mentally plotted Max’s cautious course over the mountaintop.            How had he known that Penny was in danger? He’d seemed so obedient when he’d left the spores’ cave. Had he ‘seen’ something in there, just as she and Mulder had?            Damn you, Max! she fumed again, as she navigated the final twists and turns, and burst into the spacious main chamber. Mulder’s perfectly capable of handling the situation! There was no need for you to go playing the hero!            Reuben and Esther were still resting where she’d left them. The incoming surf sounded unnaturally loud as it boomed and echoed through the narrow tunnel beyond them. She took scant comfort in knowing that at least they couldn’t be attacked from that direction.            "Max is gone." Fury sparkled in her blue eyes as she jammed both fists against her hips. "He snuck out through a hole in one of the passages. Unless I miss my guess, he’s gone back to try and rescue Penny. I have to go find him, before Krycek does."            Reuben scrambled to his feet, and laid a thin hand on her arm. "You’d better hurry, then. We’ll be fine, Agent Scully," he assured her. "Don’t worry about us."            His gentle confidence was heartening. "You’ll be safe here. And I shouldn’t be long, he can’t have gotten too far yet." Scully clapped each of them on the shoulder in silent thanks, then turned and hurried back toward the distant exit.            Sunlight was still cascading through the small hillside opening. Something shimmered behind the thick variegated leaves cascading down the far wall. She ignored it, and grabbed a handful of vines to pull herself up.            The wall was humming!            Shocked, she stumbled back and stared at the vines in disbelief.            Something was hidden under all that dense foliage? Gingerly she parted the heavy leaves, and peered at the hard-packed wall. Flecks of silvery mica were embedded at random intervals, yet they seemed to shimmer with unusual brilliance. She nervously laid her hand against them, and felt a deep vibration all the way up to her elbow.            But that was impossible! That meant...            Scully hesitated for an instant. Max needed her help--but a discovery of this magnitude was simply too important to ignore!            A jagged rock was lying nearby. She snatched it up, and began hammering at the wall. Bits of hardened soil sprayed against her dirty slacks. Then a large section crumbled to the ground.            The rock slipped out of Scully’s hand, and thudded in the dirt. Reverently she knelt down, and brushed dust from the dulled silvery metal winking at her. She recognized that unique unearthly metal. She’d seen it, touched it, felt its incredible energy on a distant African coastline.            For one brief instant, she felt Albert Hosteen’s weathered hand clutching hers.            "My God, Mulder, you have to see this!" she whispered, tracing a faint scratch with one trembling finger. "It’s everything you’ve been searching for! The answers are all here, just waiting for us!"            Now everything made sense! Freshwater springs didn’t simply bubble up inside a mountain without some strong motivating force. This ancient machine must be purifying the ocean’s water, and pumping it up into the spores’ high, protected cavern. That explained how they’d survived all these millennia--a stable environment was being maintained for them.            Perhaps this device was even responsible for the defensive Barrier she and Mulder had sensed, when they’d been incapacitated by the spores. How else could the island have escaped detection for so long in their high-tech world?            Your ‘high-tech world’ is unbelievably primitive compared to the civilization that created this, an inner voice mocked. Talk about species’ arrogance!            Scully winced. But it was true. All of humanity’s accomplishments were nothing compared to this single humming machine.            Mulder simply had to see it!            Suddenly she gasped, and bolted upright. Max!           The enigmatic alien device had remained safe in this little chamber for untold centuries. It could wait a few more hours. She let the vines tumble back down, hiding it from casual view, and cautiously scrambled into the late afternoon sunlight.           The small opening was further up the steep hillside than she’d expected. Instinctively she memorized its location, then darted up into the concealing trees.            How far had Max traveled, while she’d been warning Esther and Reuben, then unearthing that buried alien machine? What he knew about covert operations could rattle around in a thimble. He was sure to get captured, or shot, or both, before she could find him.            Damn him, anyway...