TITLE: WAR AND PEACE IN NTOTO (1 of 7) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE CLASSIFICATION: MYTHOLOGY, Sequel to "Jumping Over the Fire" RATING: R ARCHIVE: Yes Send feedback to ottercrk@sover.net Website is located at http://members.dencity.com/hearne XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART ONE ASSEMBLING THE PIECES XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX When The Kilembe started to gather members from outside of Africa, the western media began to give more attention to this religious group. Up until then, it had been noted with curiosity and amusement. Oh, those crazy African people! Always coming up with some nutty thing! Then they noticed that The Kilembe was attracting people in other continents as well. In Russia, a group of impoverished farmers hocked their meager possessions so that they might buy passage to Nigeria and worship Mwuetsi. The president of a Japanese electronics company stunned the board members by announcing that he was turning his wealth over to The Kilembe. An Italian cardinal who had served the Catholic Church for twenty years tossed away his robe and headed for Africa. Since celebrityhood was a measuring stick for the worthiness of news events, The Kilembe fully grasped the world's attention when a well-known actor walked off the set of a film shooting in Morocco. When asked why he was leaving, he said, "I am following the true path -- the path of The Kilembe." As can be easily imagined, the sudden rise of The Kilembe caused concern. The Vatican issued a statement warning people "not to rush into joining the group without fully understanding its goals and theology." Baptist preachers in North America were not so restrained and declared that Mwuetsi was the true-blue, one-hundred-percent-guaranteed Anti-Christ. Editorialists made dark references to Jonestown and Heaven's Gate. The President tried to put the best face on it as he smiled at a press conference and suggested that this might be some harmless fad "like, y'know, Pokemon." However, after a teenage girl in Wyoming shot her parents when they forbade her to join The Kilembe, no one could regard it as just a fad anymore. That begged the question -- just what the hell was The Kilembe, anyway? They had no overt ideology other than an expressed belief in Mwuetsi's godhood and a certainty that some goddamned "new era" was upon the world. Outside of The Kilembe's inner circle, nobody had even seen Mwuetsi. They were rumors that he had been killed in a bomb attack. Media outlets over the world catapulted their reporters and cameramen in Nigeria's direction with the intention of finding out, well, anything. (Time and Newsweek were planning simultaneous cover stories, putting The Kilembe in the esteemed ranks of O.J. Simpson and "The Blair Witch Project.") It was expected that the reporters would come up with a story that was mildly interesting, at least. They got a lot more than that. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Ringo Langly had a friend who once ended up on a plane trip with reporters sent to cover Nixon's exploits in China. "God, they were maniacs!" his friend said. "Within an hour, they had drained every bottle of liquor on the plane. They had games to see how many people they could squeeze into the lavatory and who could get the stewardress to show her breasts. Then they started having duels with their typewriters. I don't mean, they tried to out-type each other. They picked up their typewriters and starting swinging them at each other. And I can't tell you how many times they sang 'Mao-Se Tung Has One Tiny Ball...Doo-Dah, Doo-Dah...'" On the plane trip to Nigeria, Langly was accompanied by a group of reporters. However, their attitude was more law firm than frat party. They sat politely in their seats, typed away at their Powerbooks, drank their bottled water and discussed with each other how their children were doing at private school. Not a single tie was loosened and all the women had carefully constructed hairdoes. Langly looked them over, then leaned towards the two people sitting next to him. "We are deep in narc territory," he muttered. John Byers had to agree with him. Usually he was annoyed by Langly's assumption that people in suits were "narcs." After all, Mulder and Scully were always presentable in their appearance and they weren't exactly establishment types. Hell, *he* wore a suit, too. However, he doubted that any of the reporters on this plane had the intellectual abilities to understand the dark forces behind the major enigmas of the twentieth century -- questions like who killed the Kennedys, what crashed at Roswell and... "Why does airplane beer always suck?" Melvin Frohike asked. "You shouldn't be drinking at a time like this," Langly warned. "First of all, this stuff couldn't get a baby drunk. Second of all, this is precisely the time to be drinking. Does anybody here even have close to a clue as to why we're flying to Nigeria?" "Scully needs us," Byers said. "That's all we need to know." He was right. What were the Lone Gunmen without Mulder or Scully? Nothing but a bunch of misfits with looney ideas. After Mulder has been abducted, they each dealt with it in their own way. Byers stayed awake all night, holding a ring in his hand and thinking of the person he loved. Langly took out his frustrations in an internet game of "Doom" and shocked his opponents with his aggressiveness. Frohike got plastered. He was found by a policeman on a street corner, pouring wine into a gutter and mumbling, "I miss you, homey." The two FBI agents had been their spiritual leaders and they would have followed them to the ends of the earth. Actually, this call to arms hadn't come from Scully. It had come from her burly assistant director. This made the Lone Gunmen more than a tad suspicious. Not only was Skinner more of an establishment man, he was also compromised. The nanites occupying his bloodstream put him at the mercy of anybody with the means of controlling them. Still, if this was a set-up, then they would be meeting in a darkened alley back in D.C., not all the way down in Lagos. It was in that city's international airport where they met Walter Skinner. After squeezing their way past the duplicitous custom officials, they found him standing in the flow of human traffic like a oak growing out of a river. "All right," Frohike said. "We're here. What's up?" Skinner replied, "To use the exact words of Agent Scully, how would you three like to be a participant in the most significant event of the millennium?" The Lone Gunmen looked at each other, then back at Skinner. "Dig it," Langly said. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Alex Krycek was feeling a lot of pressure. Shooting someone would have been a nice safety valve for him. Furthermore, if that someone could be Dana Scully, it would be all the better. "I thought we had an understanding," Krycek told her. "We did," she responded. "I haven't come to interfere with your project." That didn't curb Krycek's violent impulses. As Scully stood before him in his trailer, the urge to splatter her brains against the wall was strong as when she entered. He had long passed the days when he had felt guilt over arranging her abduction. Now he just wanted to be rid of her and be done with it. "Then why are you here and why should I be talking with you?" he asked. "I am here to join the project." Krycek felt his anger get twisted into bewilderment. Did he hear that? And was he mistaken in thinking she sounded truthful? He said, "Again I have to ask...why?" "Because there's nothing left for me in this world." Krycek examined her tight expression and then felt satisfaction. Covarrubias had been wrong. Not only couldn't Scully penetrate the wall but throwing herself against it had been too painful. After all these years, Scully had finally been pushed too far and it had been Mulder who had performed the final shove. As a result, she was like Krycek now -- a person who put survival above all. However... "Space is tight in our shelter, Scully. Why should we make room for you?" "I have something to offer." "What? Your scientific skills? We already have a Nobel prize winner in our group." Scully allowed a tiny smile on her face. "You must be too tired to notice it, Krycek. Or maybe I'm not showing enough yet." Krycek rubbed his eyes. "Yes, I am tired. I'm too tired for riddles. Either just say what you mean or..." "I'm pregnant." Krycek's hand fell from his face like a lead weight. As he stared at the red-haired woman, a hundred possibilities lined up in his mind. "I don't know how this happened," she said. "but a child born in these circumstances is bound to have...something special about it, right?" It has to, Krycek thought. It must. It might even be a child... A child with a built-in immunity to the virus. Ygdrasil could be the beginning of the new human race after all. "So what do you say, Alex?" Scully said, no longer smiling. "Am I in?" XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Cut back to the bar... "Okay," Eshu says. "I'm only going to explain this once." He puts a beer bottle on the table. "This is Mulder 'cause he's so tall and hard-to-swallow during the first time." He places a packet of sugar on the other side. "This is Scully 'cause she's so sweet and tiny." Eshu gives you a mock grin, then picks up a plate and a bowl. The plate is placed under the bottle and the packet is laid in the bowl. "Mulder is with The Kilembe and Scully is with Ygdrasil. However, both of them..." He briefly touches the bottle and the packet together. "...are working together on their own plan. In simpatico as they once were." He dips his hand into a bowl of peanuts and places four on the table. "Here you have Skinner and the Lone Gunmen who have their own role to play. Annnnnnd..." He picks up a knife. "We have Conrad Strunghold and his allies. They haven't been seen for awhile but they're still in play. And they're going to pose a considerable difficulty to the plans of Mulder and Scully." The knife is placed between the bottle and the packet. "Finally we've got..." He takes off his hat and holds it over the table, casting a shadow over the assembled objects. "Well...you'll know it when you see it." He puts the hat back on his head and sighs. "Whew. I hate it when everything has to be laid out." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mwuetsi rose. After three days in sleep, he opened his eyes and stood up. The Kilembe rejoiced. The reporters who had created their own settlement near Kalunga heard the commotion and demanded to know what was going on. Once they heard that Mwuetsi was back on his feet, they insisted on having an interview. "Mwuetsi will not speak to the world yet," one of the Shamans replied. Well, when? The Shaman smiled in that special irritating way practiced by The Kilembe and said, "Soon." The reporters grumbled and complained and bitched. However, they continued their live broadcasts even though there was little more information to impart. The world wanted to know every bit of information available about The Kilembe. Lagos International Airport was being beseiged by travellers coming to join this new religion. The custom officials were so astounded that they allowed the pilgrims through without the usual shakedown. If no seats were available on flights going into Lagos, the travellers landed in Benin or Chad or Algeria or some part of Africa and made their way to the Gulf of Guinea. No one could get an accurate headcount but the number of new Kilembe members was surely in the tens of thousands. However, very few of them had yet to be in the presence of Mwuetsi himself. As before, only those who had been living in Kalunga since the beginning could have that privilege. Exempting the spirits from Mputu, Mwuetsi restricted outsiders from his sight. One outsider did manage to work his way into a meeting with the great man. That's because he had an advantage nobody in the Kilembe could have imagined. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Fam loathed to disturb his leader, especially to tell him that he had another presumptuous visitor. He remembered all too well what happened the last time that an outsider had talked her way into a private meeting with Mwuetsi. Even though the Mputu spirit had declared the woman innocent, Fam still suspected that there was a connection between her arrival and the bombing. For that matter, he still wondered why she had called him "Billy." However, could there be any harm in telling Mwuetsi about this new visitor? If nothing else, Fam would be able to send the old man away with a guiltless conscience. The old man had arrived a day after Mwuetsi had awakened from his slumber. He spoke in strange riddles as the woman had. "Mwuetsi?" The leader has been in his tent. When Fam had poked his head in, he found Mwuetsi sitting on his cot with his chin propped against his folded hands. Upon hearing Fam, he turned... Was it Fam's imagination or did Mwuetsi turn his head a little too quickly? For just a moment, hadn't the leader of The Kilembe looked like he had been hiding something? No, Fam thought. Of course not. "Yes?" Mwuetsi said, his voice as quietly authoritative as ever. "Someone wishes to see you." Mwuetsi gave Fam a tiny smile. "Tell him I don't wish to be seen." "I told him that already, Mwuetsi. However, he still waits. He also told me something strange." "And that is...?" "He said that he used to know your father." Once again, Fam thought that he saw an odd reaction on Mwuetsi's face. Mwuetsi looked away and said, "Is he from Mputu?" "Uh...no, Mwuetsi." "Then how could he have known my father?" "I don't know." Mwuetsi fell silent for a few moments. Is he playing a game with me? Fam wondered. Then he wondered why he was thinking such things. "Well...show him in." "Are you sure?" Mwuetsi turned back to Fam. "Who am I?" he asked. Fam swallowed and said, "You are Mwuetsi." "Then show him in." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Conrad Strunghold was taking a serious gamble. He was in the enemy's camp and they could do with him as they pleased. Furthermore, there was no guarantee that he would get close enough to Mulder for his purposes. To be honest, though, Strunghold wasn't too concerned for his own life. After the El Rico massacre and the destruction of the Syndicate's work, he had grown very tired. He made no attempts to resurrect the Project as Spender had tried. He had gone into hiding, spent many nights listening to Mozart and wondered if he should just wait for the inevitable. Then during one of those nights he had a revelation. He thought about the Syndicate and its efforts to save the world even as it tried to ensure the survival of its own members. They may have tried to extinguish the fire but only they had known about the fire's existence and where the exits were located. Now, as the medallion aria from "The Magic Flute" caressed his ears, Strunghold decided to truly sacrifice himself. He would fight the war like a honest soldier and risk himself on the front lines. For someone like him, this was as close to a moral awakening as he could get. Of course, this old man was motivated by his weariness with life itself. He had too few years left to worry about holding onto them. If I have to die, he reasoned, then I might as well do it with a little honor. He couldn't fight the war alone, though. Through special channels of communication, he made contact with a former opponent. Negotiations were tense and the created alliance was shaky but he still had a new army. That army wasn't with him now, though. Here in Kalunga, he expected to feel a stiletto pierce the back of his neck. Surely the colonists were aware of his new alliance. On the other hand, killing him here might raise suspicions. It was still possible to raise such doubts in the brainwashed minds of The Kilembe. You wouldn't know it by looking at them, though. So many insipid smiling faces...so many people eagerly working, unaware of the road they were building to hell... One of these faces was not so cheerful. It was the face of the Shaman whom Strunghold had contacted. Strunghold's message had left him bewildered and he came back from Mwuetsi still bewildered. Nevertheless, he said -- "Mwuetsi will see you now." Fam guided Strunghold to Mwuetsi's new tent. The old man entered it with a brown envelope in his hand. As he looked at Fox Mulder, he felt a brief spasm of pity. Fox used to have so much of his father's conflicted soul inside of him. Now he didn't even have a soul. Instead he was this hollow deity, so confident of his own power. Or was he? Did Strunghold perceive incorrectly or did Mulder seemed a little tense in his posture? However, Mulder managed to sound commanding when he said, "Why have you come here?" This is it, Strunghold thought. Either they kill me or not. He waited for just one moment. When the moment passed, he held out the envelope to Mulder. The other man looked between Strunghold and the envelope. Then he stood up from the cot and accepted the envelope. He opened it to find a photo. The shock on Mulder's face was unmistakeable. Strunghold felt relief and satisfaction. He had broken through the walls placed around Mwuetsi's mind and yanked out the broken child inside the man. This god now belonged to him. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX From: "David Hearne" Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2000 20:25:55 -0400 Subject: xfc: War and Peace in Ntoto (2 of 7) Source: xfc TITLE: WAR AND PEACE IN NTOTO (2 of 7) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART TWO SOMETHING LESS THAN A GOD XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "It's Samantha." The very name made Scully feel upside-down. "What..." she started to say. "It's Samantha's clone, to be specific," Marita Covarrubias explained. "One of the human-alien hybrids created under the Project. It has been in cold storage ever since the Project collapsed. It should have been destroyed, having no worth in of itself. However...Spender made sure that it was preserved." Scully forced a blank expression over her face. "I see. And what is Strunghold doing with it?" "Apparently he's going to blackmail Mulder with it." Keep calm, Scully thought. Keep calm. "How could he do that? Mulder isn't even Mulder anymore." "He may not be completely gone," Alex Krycek said. "When he saw him, did he act like he remembered you at all?" Scully looked back at the two people regarding her. Their eyes seemed incapable of missing a single twitch on her body. They were gathered in Krycek's trailer. The noise of construction could be faintly heard through the muffled walls. "At first, yes," Scully said. "Then he ordered me away. The colonists' hold on him was too tight." And that was the truth, as far as it went. "So he's still capable of being reached," Krycek observed. "Being confronted with an adult Samantha might just..." "But it's not Samantha," Scully interrupted in a sharp voice. "It's a clone. A mindless worker." "This clone is...different," Covarrubias said. "It's been implanted with memories that outline a life Samantha might have had. Take it out of cold storage and it believes that it *is* Samantha." The woman Mulder had met in the diner...the one who had called the smoking man her father...no wonder Spender kept her alive...she was a surrogate daughter in the way he wanted Mulder to be a surrogate son... "It might as well be Samantha," Krycek said. "It's the only part of Mulder's sister left in this world. If Strunghold pierces the mental barriers around Mulder's brain, then he could use the clone to control Mulder. Of course, maybe Mulder really has achieved closure and could sacrifice her." He smirked. "What is it that Mulder thought happened to Samantha? That some angel or spirit took her off to Never-Never Land?" Scully's anger finally exceeded her control. "There are things that exist beyond anybody's control or imagination, Krycek. I found that out the hard way. You're going to find out even harder." Covarrubias cleared her throat as Krycek and Scully glared at each other. "The question is -- if Strunghold gains control over Mulder, what does that mean for us?" Krycek was silent for one second, then said, "Considering who his allies are, then it might significantly shift the power to him. Or it could mean that we are on the verge of an all-out war. Or it could mean jackshit. Under any circumstance, we should proceed with our own work." "I agree," Scully said in a cold voice. Krycek's smirk returned. "Nice to see you're a team-player, Scully." Scully then said that she needed to return to Lagos and left the Ygdrasil construction site. On the drive back to the capital city, she pulled to the side of the road and cried. She cried because she knew what agony Mulder must be feeling. She cried because there was no way for herself or anybody else to comfort him at the moment. She cried because she couldn't help him. Then she realized that she could help him; perhaps in a small, inconsequential way but it was better than nothing. As soon as she got back to Lagos and to her new office at Ibrahim Haruna's house, she used a secret internet link established with three very clever men and a very tough one. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The Guardians and The Processors were feuding. Nexus served as moderator. The Processors demanded to know why the Guardians allowed the human Strunghold to get so close to the human Mulder. The Guardians replied that killing Strunghold might have brought up questions not ready to be answered. Wasn't it necessary to preserve the illusions of The Kilembe? Does that mean you don't have confidence in your reprogramming techniques? the Processors inquired. It means that we are cautious, the Guardians answered. On the eve of colonization, it is necessary to be cautious. Your caution may have damaged our hold over Mulder. Do you have reason to believe that Strunghold accomplished such a thing? Before the Processors could make their rebuttal, Nexus interrupted. HAS THERE BEEN ANY CHANGE IN THE HUMAN MULDER'S BEHAVIOR? No, the Guardians said. The Processors had to agree. IS THERE ANY INDICATION THAT HE WILL DEVIATE FROM OUR PLANS? Again the Guardians said no. Again the Processors had to admit that they had seen nothing worrisome. THEN WHY ARE THE PROCESSORS CONCERNED? We...we are not certain, the Processors said. While Mulder seems no different than before, we have our suspicions... SUSPICIONS? Yes. YOU'RE SOUNDING TOO DAMN HUMAN. THIS MEETING IS OVER. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Strunghold was having dinner when one of his allies walked up to him and said, "There's a human wishing to see you." "Really?" "Actually, he's *demanding* to see you. He calls himself Skinner." Strunghold hesitated, then put down his knife and fork. He headed for the front door of his rented house in Ijebu-Ode. Skinner was standing before the house, red sunlight bouncing off his glasses and lengthening his shadow. He kept his eyes on the door and not on the men gathered in a wide circle around him. They held long metal rods. Their faces were human but their expressions had the plastic quality of a mannequin. Strunghold stepped outside with the alien rebel behind him. "Agent Skinner," he said politely. "Stop what you're doing," Skinner said. "Stop your blackmail of Mulder." Straight-to-the-point, Strunghold thought. Very American. "Why should I do that?" "Because Mulder is already doing what you want him to do. He's going to sabotage the colonization." Strunghold's face lost a good deal of its coolness. Even the alien rebels looked baffled. "That's right," Skinner said. "Mulder has regained his memories." "But how is this possible?" "Never you mind." "Hm. Well..." "So back off. He's going to do your dirty work so there's no need for you to force his hand." Strunghold crossed his hands behind his back and looked down at the ground for a few quiet moments. Then he said -- "I suspect that what you're telling me is true..." "It is." "...but that's all the more reason to hold onto my means of leverage." Skinner's back stiffened. "Just to make sure Mulder does what you say he will. I hope you understand..." "And just what happens if Mulder fulfills his part of the bargain? Will you let Samantha go?" Strunghold gave Skinner a little smile. "It's not Samantha." "Maybe not to you. But Mulder doesn't feel the same way. That's why you're doing this, right?" "Yes. It is. And the time may come when Mulder may be required to perform another important task. If it does come, I want to make sure he has the proper incentive." Skinner took a step closer to Strunghold. The rebels took a step closer to *him*. Strunghold lifted a hand to tell the rebels that he wasn't worried. Not yet, anyway. "Just who are you to use people like this?" Skinner growled. "What gives you the right?" "Mister Skinner...you are a brave and determined individual. However, you are just a government employee. I, on the other hand, have built governments. I have directed the course of human events. I have affected the fate of millions upon millions of people. Against all that...and against the might my allies represent...you are really a little fellow after all. I would advise you not to trifle with us." Skinner looked at Strunghold. Then he took three more steps. Strunghold could now feel the other man's breath on his face. The German knew that Skinner wasn't going to attack him. However, he had suddenly become worried. Skinner said -- "I got your number. "You little cocksucker. "I've served in the FBI for near two decades. Before that, I was in Vietnam. If you had seen the things I've witnessed, then you will know that there's no hell you and your goddamn alien buddies can invent which I haven't already been through. You will also know that I've swallowed too much shit over the past seven years and I'm not going to eat one gram more. "So be advised of this, sausage-breath. If anybody gets hurt because of your actions, I will personally carve out your fucking German liver." With that, Skinner marched away. Strunghold was left remembering who won the war. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder wanted to tear down the tent. He wanted to track down Strunghold and beat him to death. He wanted to hurt *somebody*. None of these actions could be taken, though. He was still supposed to be Mwuetsi. Strunghold hadn't said a word to Mulder when he had visited him. All he did was show Mulder the photo, then take it away and leave. However, his intentions were obvious. He wanted to jar Mulder, make him remember his past, weaken his hold over The Kilembe. He had accomplished even more than that. As Mulder sat in his tent, a mental breakdown felt imminent to him. He knew who had been the woman in the photo. It was the clone of Samantha who had met him in the diner -- the one who cried and persauded him of her truthfulness. It was the truth for her, he thought. She really did believe that she had children even though she spends her life in a glass container. Now her container was in the possession of a man who could kill her with a pressed button. If Mulder furthered the colonists' plans, then that button will be pushed. Mulder knew that even if Strunghold was aware of Mulder's own secret plans, the situation wouldn't change. The men of the Syndicate used to control people as easily as they breathed. He would maintain his hold over Mulder for as long as he wanted. That is, unless Mulder denied the hold. He had made his peace with Samantha's disappearance. The woman in the glass container had been manufactured by scientists. It wasn't Samantha. It didn't have Samantha's soul. If necessary, Mulder would sacrifice her. This made him angrier than anything else. Could he really do that? Those tears shed in the diner had not been faked. The memories of her past were a lie but the emotions belonged to a living, feeling person. If he ignored her plight, would that make him any better than Strunghold? However, there was more involved here than just him and the clone. After Strunghold had left, one of the Guardians had entered Mulder's tent. "Who was that, Mwuetsi?" "I...I don't know." "You seemed disturbed." Mulder took several moments before replying. "He showed me something. It seemed familiar." The Guardian narrowed his eyes. "And?" "And nothing." Mulder put a frown on his face. "Why are you asking me these things?" Even in his agitated state, Mulder took pleasure in the Guardian losing a tiny bit of his own composure. "I am merely concerned for your well-being, Mwuetsi." "I am grateful that the spirits of Mputu look after me so well." Christ, Mulder thought. I can't believe I used to talk like that so easily. "However, there is no need for concern. I don't know who that man was or what he wanted. It doesn't matter. The Opening of the Door will occur." The Guardian nodded in satisfaction. Then it changed back into its disguise of a Chinese Kilembe follower. At least I still have those bastards fooled, Mulder thought. But if I try to save Samantha's clone, then I risk exposing myself. There's too much at stake to attempt that. The whole damned human race, in fact. Against all those deaths... Yet didn't one death count for anything? If Scully was the one at risk, wouldn't I... I don't... XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder sat in his tent with the fate of the world in his hands but never feeling less like a god. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX From: "David Hearne" Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2000 20:26:39 -0400 Subject: xfc: War and Peace in Ntoto (3 of 7) Source: xfc TITLE: WAR AND PEACE IN NTOTO (3 of 7) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART THREE THE DIVINITY HITS THE FAN XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX In the four days before the big weirdness happened, some small weirdness occurred. Nigeria was full of odd stories in that time. You couldn't go a half-hour without hearing about another "Mwuetsi sighting." His presence was reported in slums, in the marketplace and even on the wings of airplanes. Usually the tales would have him performing one miracle or another. Since they were verifiable incidents of people recovering from illness, Mwuetsi's reputation grew in tangent with the size of The Kilembe. Not all of the stories were complimentary, though. Resentful Christians and Muslims spread rumors about Mwuetsi's private life -- he lived in luxury while his followers hungered; he knew the company of postitutes both male and female; he drank the blood of children. A couple of the stories were created out of boredom. After spending hours upon hours at Kalunga in expectation of a great event, a reporter screamed at the Kilembe followers, "Mwuetsi sucks my cock! He licks my ass! He eats my shit and he enjoys it!" No one in The Kilembe harrassed the reporter in return. (In fact, the reporter ended up joining The Kilembe as did quite a few members of the media sent to cover the new religion.) Neither did they retaliate against any Christian or Muslim for their abuse. They just smiled and went their way, leaving the abuser seething in rage. Violence came close to breaking out more than a dozen times yet it was prevented by... It was unclear. In one instance, a group of men took up shovels and pickaxes in order to attack people making their way to Kalunga. Africa had become run over by these trekkers, ranging in groups large enough to pack an auditorium to just barely enough to fill a car. The attackers went after one of the small groups. However, just as they were about to crack skulls, they halted, stepped aside and allowed the smiling people to go their way. The attackers couldn't explain why they did it. The urge to kill had just left them. These were the kinds of incidents that convinced people of Mwuetsi's authenticity. And even if you didn't believe in his godhood, you had to reckon with his popularity. The President wanted to "establish a dialogue" with the Kilembe leader, perhaps because there was a "Mwuetsi for President" movement in the U.S. The Pope also wanted a meeting, even if it meant risking his frail and elderly body with a lengthy trip. All three major U.S. networks (and Fox) were planning a tv movie. On an episode of "The View," Barbara Walters declared that an interview with Mwuetsi would be nothing less than "the interview of the millennium." (This prompted Star Jones to say "Well, I've never seen him but I hear he's so *fine*" and Joy Behar to wonder if the miracle-maker could "perform face-lifts.") In the midst of all this confusion, it was easy to miss other stories. One of these was the murder of an astronomer in California. For the past few days, the astronomer had been ranting to anyone within earshot about an "moving astronomical body" that couldn't be explained and how public discussion of this object was being supressed. The men who killed them did so because they had been trained to kill such upstarts. It was pointless to do so now, considering that their masters were dead or missing. However, as another man had observed, the structure of lies and cover-up remained even though the builders were no more. While police were trying to solve the astronomer's murder, neighbors were wondering what was going on in the house of Margaret Scully. Her sons were staying with her as well as their families. No one knew why they were gathered there but one neighbor remarked that "they looked like they waiting for someone to die." Everybody was waiting -- waiting and watching the Gulf of Guinea and wondering if this craziness would just fizzle out into a joke for a David Letterman monologue. It didn't. On the fourth night after his coma's end, Mwuetsi left Kalunga and led his people to their destiny. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The Guardians had assured Nexus that Mulder would not deviate from the plan. Now they were wondering if they had to eat their words along with a side dish of crow and a bowl of shit. "The Opening of the Door will not happen here," Mulder insisted. He stood before the Guardians in his tent with a stubborn look on his face. "Mwuetsi, it has already been decided," one of the Guardians said, trying to sound kind yet firm. "No. This is not the proper place." The Guardians looked at each other. They didn't know what to make of this. This was the kind of willful behavior that programming should have eradicated. However, their pawn wasn't exactly disrupting the plan, either. Not too much. They turned back to Mulder and one of them asked where was the proper place. Mulder gave the answer. "But...why there?" "Because it is full of disbelievers and blasphemers. If the Opening of the Door must occur anywhere, let it be in the enemy's camp so that they might understand the glory of Mputu and feel its wrath. Are they not the ones who tried to assassinate me days ago?" Who put *that* idea in his head? the Guardians wondered. They were going to select their own scapegoat but Mulder had come up with one of his own. "How do you even know about their existence?" another Guardian asked. Mulder smiled and lifted an eyebrow. "I am Mwuetsi, am I not?" Then he walked past the Guardians and towards the outside of his tent. "Come," he declared. "Let's gather my people." After he left, the Guardians had a fast conference. Did this affect their plans? No. Not greatly. In fact, it might even be an improvement. The shelter being constructed by the rich humans had not been considered a threat. However, it was probably best to eliminate Ygdrasil just to make sure the humans knew that there was no escape anywhere. They agreed on this. They also agreed that Nexus might be irritated by the change in plans but it would adjust. Colonization was still proceeding ahead. The virus would be spread. This planet would be theirs. They followed after Mulder. If they had any doubts left, they were left unspoken. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Various astronomers had already given up trying to understand the unknown object approaching Earth. They also had no answers for why it suddenly shifted its trajectory. Its flight had changed just a fraction but enough to look...deliberate. They wondered why they weren't being allowed to talk about this. Among those who did understand the object's meaning, there was much scrambling and desperation. They fled towards their private bunkers, not knowing that only one in the whole world would provide enough protection. And space had already filled up there. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Byers watched Ygdrasil from a half-mile's distance. Through binoculars, he watched people rushing around the semi-completed building. They were sealing up the walls, retracting long tubes, turning on the power. He was situated ontop of a tall bank which slanted downward to a creek -- one of many running through the Niger Delta. Sitting at the water's edge, Langly was fiddling with a portable keyboard. A wire connected the keyboard to a small radar dish. Frohike watched over Langly's shoulder. "Do you really know what you're doing?" Frohike asked. Langly sighed. "Not only do I know, but I know better than you do." Frohike held back a retort. He knew that Langly was the best hacker among The Lone Gunmen. Hell, Langly was almost the best hacker Frohike had ever known. Only The Thinker (pour out another bottle for a fallen homey) had been better. Frohike wouldn't actually say any of this out-loud, of course. For a task like this, Frohike preferred it to be in Langly's hands. That didn't mean he kept from worrying, though. So much damn stuff was riding on this. Agent Scully was riding on this. She was in the middle of the lion's den. If any one of the lions smelt the internet connection she had established... "Something's happening." Frohike and Langly looked up at Byers. "What is it?" Frohike asked. Byers looked through his binoculars for a few more seconds, then said, "I think somebody's going to die." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Krycek met the four men at the outer edges of Ygdrasil's property. Behind him, the work of securing the shelter was being done by people trying not to watch his little drama. Two of the men had hard, impenetrable faces and long guns. They stood alongside Thomas Dern and Ch'en Yu-hsiu. All four men had just gotten out of a jeep. "You made it just in time," Krycek observed. "Where's Haruna?" "He won't be here," Ch'en said. "Neither will Miss Covarrubias." Krycek made no motion, no sound. "You understand, don't you, son?" Dern said. "It's nothin' personal." Krycek gave the slightest nod, then spoke in Russian. "'Scuse me?" Dern said, frowning. "That's my favorite line from 'The Brothers Karamazov.' It's a description of the father. In English, it means 'He was evil and sentimental.'" "What does that..." Krycek shoved his good hand under his jacket. The two henchmen pointed their guns at him. Then one of them lost his nose and the back of his head. For a brief moment, Krycek was the only one who understood the situation. His right hand came out and shot the second henchmen who was still wondering from where the first shot came. Dern and Ch'en scrambled for the guns under their coats. However, the unseen assailant took Ch'en down, leaving Dern with Krycek. Just as Dern got his own weapon out, he found himself looking into the black eye of a gun barrel. Krycek smiled a little, shrugged, then fired. Then he turned away from the four bodies and looked at everybody else who had observed this confrontation. Without saying anything, he asked if any among them had complaints. No one did. They quickly returned to their tasks. The bodies were removed. Krycek looked to a window of the building. He waved -- a gesture more perfunctory than friendly. Marita Covarrubias waved back in an equally formal way, her other hand holding a rifle. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Scully vomited. She didn't know if she was doing this out of nervousness or if it was due to her pregnancy. Whatever the reason, she spewed her stomach's contents into a toilet. The toilet was located in one of Ygdrasil's bathrooms. The walls of the bathroom were grey and the faucets were made of hard steel. After she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered if she was doing the right thing. This was enemy territory. If her secret efforts were found out, then she could lose everything. Her life, Mulder... The child. The ordinary, unremarkable child. In a bizarre world, such a thing could look strange in of itself. Could it even be possible after all she had been through? Might the Bounty Hunter have lied to her? No. He had spoken the truth. He had no reason to lie. The real question was -- what could she give to this child? What kind of life could she provide for her baby? The best that she could. And hopefully a father. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder wanted to vomit, but couldn't do so. It would look unseemly in front of his disciples. He wouldn't want to do that, would he? He shouldn't do anything to remove those worshipful gazes off their faces, should he? He wouldn't want to make them think he was anything less than a god, right? That was for later. He walked in front of a crowd numbering in the thousands. The rumble of all their marching feet made rabbits flee from their nests and birds abandon tree limbs. They were heading across the miles separating Kalunga and their destination. Jeeps and helicopters full of cameramen tagged alongside them. Mulder felt not only the eyes of The Kilembe and the aliens but also the eyes of everyone watching this on their televisions. He tried not to think about them. He concentrated on looking confident and purposeful. His spectators had to think that he was guiding them towards a distinct goal. In fact, he was. He was taking them to his own crucifixion. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX From: "David Hearne" Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2000 20:17:36 -0400 Subject: xfc: War and Peace in Ntoto (4 of 7) Source: xfc TITLE: WAR AND PEACE IN NTOTO (4 of 7) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART FOUR NEXUS XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The first images belonged to the crowd. Viewers could only see a mass of arms, legs and smiling heads moving in waves across the Niger Delta. The march occurred at nighttime so it was difficult for the cameras to provide a wide-angle view of The Kilembe. Lights shooting down from the helicopters and mounted on the jeeps enabled for stray parts of the whole to be seen on the television. It was like looking at a whale through a porthole. Eventually the cameramen were able to find the crowd's head. They focused their lamps and lenses on the person walking alone from the others. The world got its first glimpse of Mwuetsi. In the house of Margaret Scully, viewers of the scene were expecting to see Fox Mulder. Margaret still let out a gasp when she saw him, though. "So that's Mulder," Charles said in a small voice. There was a brief moment of silence. Then Bill said -- "He looks like a god." Charles and Margaret looked at Bill. The eldest Scully child was no longer regarding Mulder with disgust. He regarded him with fear. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX In Ygdrasil's command room, another television was also relaying footage of the march. Krycek was in the room but he wasn't watching the television. He was studying a map. Using a pen and ruler, he traced the distance that The Kilembe had crossed. He continued the line to see where it was leading. Then he dropped the pen and said, "Fuck me." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Others knew where The Kilembe were headed. They were gathering themselves for an attack on the cult. "Are you sure this is wise?" Strunghold asked the alien rebel with the face of Adolf Hitler. "Mulder has disoriented the Guardians by moving the location for the arrival," the rebel said. "Their defenses will be too scattered to provide a defense. We have an opportunity. We shall take it." "Well...yes, I understand that. However, who shall protect..." "One shall stay behind. That will be enough to secure you and the clone." "Of course, of course. But tell me...if Mulder is really going to sabotage colonization, then is it necessary to kill him?" Hitler looked at Strunghold with eyes colder than even the original Fuehrer's. "We shall not take chances." Strunghold watched the rebels leave in their ground transportation. A rebel stood at the porch of his house, looking like he wanted to join his brothers. Strunghold turned his gaze up to the skies and searched for something. He gave up looking for it, then returned to the house. From a secluded spot, another person watched the rebels leave. Then he reached into his pocket and made his way to the house -- silently, carefully, deep in the shadows. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "Everybody to defense positions! Now!" Krycek only had to bark the order once over the intercom. The inhabitants of Ygdrasil -- all of whom were worth millions of dollars, a few even billions -- scrambled through the gray corridors to their posts. Krycek headed for his own post. Along the way, he encountered Covarrubias... ...and Scully. "What is it?" Covarrubias asked. "Are we being attacked?" "Something like that," Krycek responded, then stared at Scully. "Your boyfriend is bringing his cult here." There was a fair range of expressions Scully could have chosen to use. She decided to go for speechless shock. It convinced Krycek that she knew nothing about this. He gave her one last look, then walked away with Covarrubias. This is it, Scully thought. Don't screw up, boys. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "You're screwing up, Langly!" "I am not screwing up! I've got their internal systems by the throat!" "Look, I know when somebody is in or not and you're...what's that?" Langly and Frohike listened in silence. So did Byers. They could hear a rumble in the distance. They could feel the slightest vibration in the ground. "Here comes trouble," Byers muttered. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX As The Kilembe approached Ygdrasil, a gigantic circular object entered Earth's atmosphere. It descended towards the continent of Africa. It was coming home. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX After crossing several miles with not a single complaint, The Kilembe stopped. Their final destination was in front of a large, uncompleted building. Metal girders ringed solid metal walls like a fence. Someone was living in the building. The buzz of electric power could be heard and lights were seen through the windows. "What the hell is this place?" was a question asked by more than one reporter. "Who's been building it?" These would turn out to be the simplest questions of the whole evening. Mwuetsi provided his own answers. He turned to the thousands of people assembled behind him. When he spoke, the reporters assumed that those in front would spread the word to those in back. That wasn't done. It was as if everyone in The Kilembe could hear him distinctly even though he spoke in a normal voice. "The time...has come. "When you look at this world, do you not see the darkness covering it? Can't you sense the rot in its soul? When you go to sleep, don't nightmares chase you until you want to go mad? "The answer can only be yes. And to the world, we can give only one response to its rot and its sickness and its insanity." He pointed at one of the cameras. Viewers around the world shuddered. "You must be purified. That is why I was sent here by the spirits of Mputu. I have come to open a door between our two worlds so that the spirits may enter this barren land and cleanse it of sin. "Watch and behold the glory." Not a bad little speech, Mulder thought as he turned to the building. Now let's see if I can keep from getting fried. Don't screw up, boys. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The first and most important line of defense for Ygdrasil was the microwave relay. The U.S. army had been experimenting with using microwaves as a weapon for some time. The Syndicate had found a way of perfecting the usage, partly due to acquiring alien technology. When the smoking man had still been alive, Krycek had gained access to such a weapon and tried to sell it. He had been thrown into a Tunisian prison for his troubles. Now he had the weapon again but he was using it for other purposes. Buried under the ground was a circle of generators around Ygdrasil. They emitted a pulse which could physically affect a human being. The lowest setting could make a person dizzy. A higher one could knock him unconscious. If a person was exposed to the highest setting, then an autopsy of his corpse would reveal barbequed internal organs. Krycek watched Mulder on a video screen as the leader of The Kilembe approached the microwave relay. He reached to a control panel and turned a dial all the way to the right. Standing next to him, Covarrubias said, "That might not work." "We can still try." Actually, he could do more than try. He was closer to killing Mulder than he knew. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Langly's fingers jumped over his keyboard like crazed tap dancers. His screen indicated that the microwave generators were activated and Mulder was mere steps away from reaching the pulse. When he had briefed by Skinner about the plan, he had asked, "Is this necessary? I mean, Mulder is supposed to have all these powers, right?" "That...may not be true anymore," the tall bald man had replied. It turned out that when Mulder had regained his identity, his connection to the colonists' power had weakened. "How do you know?" Langly had asked. "Scully told me." "But how does she...?" "She just knows, okay? If Mulder tries to invade this installation, he may not be able to protect himself. That's why you're needed." Langly sure felt needed now. He sent a fast command to the Ygdrasil main system but the microwave generators were still at full power. "Come on, come on!" he growled. "Smile, you son-of-a-bitch!" XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder could feel the vibration of the microwave pulse. It felt a lot stronger than his own defenses. When he had been Mwuetsi, he could summon up his abilities with ease. Now he was just Mulder. Only he couldn't show that in front of this crowd. He walked forward, ten steps away from the pulse. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX In a hidden room of Ygdrasil, Scully wrapped a hand around her crucifix, closed her eyes and prayed. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Five more steps, Krycek thought. Five more steps and we'll see if Mulder can take... Then lights went out on his control panel. Needles dropped down and a humming stopped. "Oh, shit." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Langly grinned, raised his hands in the air and said, "Now tell me whose kung-fu is the best." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The microwave pulse was dissipating but Mulder would still encounter it in a weakened form. He wasn't afraid, though. He was sure that he could defend himself against a mere shock. He was right. As he crossed the generators, he felt a brief tingle but nothing more. Yea, team, he thought. Now on to step two. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Krycek pulled out his gun. "Let's go." He headed to the control room's exit, then stopped. "Where is Scully?" he asked. Covarrubias had no answer. For a moment, Krycek's eyes burned. Then he left the control room with Covarrubias behind him. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder could have unlocked the steel door by himself but Langly did it for him. He smiled as he pulled the heavy door open. He was still smiling as he found himself facing Krycek, Covarrubias and four other people. They were pointing guns at him. "Leave," Krycek said. A microwave pulse was a problem for Mulder. Guns, on the other hand, were a breeze. He took out a white handkerchief. He stepped into the building, waving the handkerchief in the air. Krycek fired. So did Covarrubias and the others. Mulder walked past them through the grey front corridor. Six guns emptied their bullets at point-blank rage. Every bullet vanished in the air. The Kilembe could see what was happening. They cheered. The reporters saw what was happening and were flabbergasted. So were the viewers watching from their houses. Among those watching were Gibson Praise and Maryam Dankabo. A cheap black-and-white television relayed the drama to them through a curtain of static. "All right," Maryam said. "Here comes the hard part." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Not aesthetically pleasing at all, Mulder thought as he looked over the undecorated metal walls. The guns continue to roar at him until they ran out of bullets. He put the handkerchief back into his pocket. (He didn't really need it. That was just a touch to please The Kilembe.) Krycek and Covarrubias followed after Mulder as he walked down the corridor. He was headed for an elevator. They looked like children being dragged along by an abusive parent. Mulder pressed a button. The doors opened for him and he stepped into the elevator. For one moment, he looked at Krycek and Covarrubias. His stern face made them shiver in fear. Then he grinned, blew them a kiss and pressed the button for the top floor. "My God," Covarrubias whispered as the doors closed. "He's..." "He's back," Krycek said. "He's Mulder again." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Scully had been watching the news feed over a portable television. She knew Mulder was in the building, but she wasn't ready to leave her locked room. Not yet, but the moment was arriving soon. It would come with the arrival of the final player. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Bill was holding the hand of his wife. Like everyone else in the Scully household (and just about everyone in the world), they were staring at a television. "I don't understand this," Tara whisperd. "I don't understand this at all." "You will," Margaret said. "We all will." For a few moments, nothing happened on the screen. The crowd remained still and there was no indication of what was occurring inside the building. Reporters babbled incoherently, trying to shape what was being seen into a definable narrative. Then The Kilembe began to raise their hands. Fingers were pointing upwards. The camera tilted in the indicated direction. That's when the reporters stopped trying to narrate. They cried out "God Almighty," cursed or just became silent. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder stepped out of the small shed which capped the elevator shaft. He was on the flat roof of Ygdrasil, able to look over the thousands of people gathered in The Niger Delta. He also had the best view on the object descending from the sky. It drifted like a parachute with lights glittering on its underbelly. Mulder watched as it approached the building. Undoubtedly the media was telling the obvious to its viewers -- a flying saucer was in sight. The world was having its first completely verifiable sighting of an alien spacecraft. Mulder imagined the reporters were peeing in their pants out of excitement. Imagine what they would do if they knew exactly what this was, Mulder thought. This wasn't just an alien spacecraft (if you could say that anything was "just" an alien spacecraft.) This was *the* alien spacecraft -- the first and original. The one that had landed here so many millennia ago. The bearer of seed to this world. The key behind the evolution of two species. The entity which had been asleep off the Ivory Coast but had been awakened a year ago. A living machine with a soul of its own; a being which had been thought to be lost but now had returned; the reason why the aliens had now decided to play gods. It was called Nexus. It had come to reclaim the world. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX From: "David Hearne" Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2000 20:19:45 -0400 Subject: xfc: War and Peace in Ntoto (5 of 7) Source: xfc TITLE: WAR AND PEACE IN NTOTO (5 of 7) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART FIVE THE CAREFUL ART OF SELF-CRUCIFIXION XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Among the Kilembe, two armies hid. It would be a matter of minutes before they noticed each other. They were disguised as ordinary humans but eventually they would change. Rods and stillettos would be pulled out. For the moment, however, they were all focused on Mulder -- him and the great craft suspended fifty feet above him. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Strunghold was watching the spectacle at Ygdrasil on his own television. He could see Mulder on the roof. He thought about the woman stored away in his house's basement and was grateful to have her there. Do what must be done, he thought in regards to Mulder. Don't hesitate or I'll... When he heard the hissing sound, he knew something was wrong. He looked to the front door. An acidic smell floated towards him. Strunghold pulled out his gun and crept towards the door. He opened it silently and slowly. Then he looked outside. A mass of green slime was bubbling on the front porch. It retained some of the original form's back and neck, but it was dissolving fast. A steel stilletto was jutting from the neck. Strunghold felt another gun press against his cheek. "Sieg Heil, you bastard," a voice said. The old German kept still for a moment. Then he smiled and tried to turn as fast as possible. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "Sweet momma," Frohike whispered. He was standing on top of the river bank with Byers and looking at Ygrdrasil. Behind them, Langly was climbing up the bank with his portable computer in his arms. "What's going on up there?" he yelled. "Langly," Byers said. "I think you better clear a way for Scully now." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Throughout the corridors of Ygdrasil, doors locked and unlocked. Krycek heard the the iron hallway barriers slam shut left and right to him. The front door also closed. When he pressed the elevator button, there was no response. He had the distinctly unpleasant feelings of someone who had just been one-upped. Scully also heard the noisy tumbling of the locks. That's when she left her private room and headed for a staircase. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "The time is now," Maryam declared. "Let's hope they don't screw it up." Then she joined hands with Gibson Praise. They sat together in her basement, performing their own secret task. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX And now there was Mulder... XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Light. The light of God's eyes. I'm in a place where there is no sound or heat or coldness or air. There is only the light. I stand in the light to fulfill a great purpose. Only I can't remember what it was. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The staircase was only five flights high yet it felt like miles to Scully. As she went higher, she remembered words spoken before to her in a dream that hadn't been a dream. "If we are to succeed, I have to open myself up to the full power of Nexus. As of now, I have only a fraction of that power." She reached the second floor. "I have to surrender myself to...whatever it represents. In doing so, I risk losing all my memories again." She was on the third floor and already she was feeling tired. Her heavy stomach felt like a barbell. "I could become Mwuetsi. And then colonization would proceed." Fourth...fourth floor...her legs were sore...twenty more steps... "I need you there. I need you to keep me grounded. Just like always. Only this time, it's not just me at stake." Ten...so hot under the shirt... "It's the whole world." Five...four...breathing hard, but almost there... She reached the door and opened it just in time to see Mulder fly. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I'm in the fire -- a fire without warmth but one that consumes every aspect of your being. My soul is gone. I am a shell. I have no... XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX He was six inches off the ground and rising fast. She ran towards him with one hand outstretched and the other pressed against her stomach. Her pounding heart felt ready to shatter her ribs. When she opened her mouth, it felt too dry to speak. Nevertheless, she did manage to scream a name. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX ...one else with me except the being which holds me... What was that? Mul-what? I look down and see a woman. She is running towards the light, towards me. She holds out a hand. For no apparent reason, I reach out to her. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX It was hard to make out details through the blinding glare of the spacecraft's light. However, all those watching could see two people on the roof. One was rising into the air, the other trying to touch him. The rising man flipped himself so that his feet was pointing at the spacecraft. He held out a hand to the other person. This second person ran into the light. The man was still out of reach so she jumped. It was not a high leap at all. It was enough. Their hands touched. Then everything went white. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX And? XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX What happened? XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Does anybody know? XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX There's a bar where a man sits and drinks and listens to the jukebox. He wears a multi-colored hat. He knows what happened. Ask him and he'll answer -- "Well, in Who-Ville, they say..." He smiles. "Look, trying to explain exactly what occurred at Ygdrasil...it just wouldn't work out. If I made an attempt, you would say 'I don't understand' or 'Is that it?' Mysteries can be horrible that way. Give people a precise answer and ninety-nine percent of the time they'll be disappointed. Of course, that doesn't always happen. I once read this Ellery Queen novel... "Ah, I'm rambling now. I'm a little drunk, too. Let's say we focus less on what happened and more on the results. Fine? "Fine." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX When the watchers could see again, the spacecraft was gone. The two people on the roof were gone. Certain people (who hadn't been people) had disappeared from the crowd. The Kilembe waited for a minute. They waited another. They kept on waiting until they realized that the show was over. "Is...is that it?" a reporter asked. "What the fuck just happened?" What happened was that the human race had been given a reprieve, but The Kilembe didn't know that. All they knew that they had been expecting some type of miracle which would bring upon a new era. Of course, that's what they essentially got. Nothing would be the same after this. However, they also had been expecting to be saved; to experience a rapture; to achieve a special kind of grace. Instead they were still the same. After all that anticipation, nothing had changed about them physically or mentally. They had been given front row seats to an astounding event but that didn't make them any different than the people who had watched from their living room sofas. When this realization set in, thousands of people started to wail. It was a hellish noise, one that made the reporters flee. The Lone Gunmen also decided to split. In Ygdrasil, Krycek and Covarrubias heard the screams. They knew that it was time to leave, but where could they could go? Langly's hacking had left them trapped. Then they heard a new sound. This was not a cry of sorrow -- it was a bellow of rage. The Great Disappointment had become the The Great Anger. The Kilembe had been ripped off and they needed something on which to take out their fury. And that big hunk of architecture was just sitting there. The rich elite inside Ygdrasil heard these angry sounds. They looked to Krycek and Covarrubias for help. All the blonde woman and the one-armed man did was lean against a wall. They listened to new sounds -- stomping feet, rocks hurled against a wall, trembling metal. They also heard a man singing. "Look at the sky turn hellfire red, Lord...somebody's house is burning...down, down, down, down..." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "Good news, people. You didn't screw up." Mulder and Scully opened their eyes, slowly as if they had just woken from a hundred years of sleep. They looked around and found themselves in Maryam's basement. She was standing over them with Gibson at her side. "The colonists are gone. So are the rebels. You sent them packing. They'll be back but it will be awhile before they'll be able to regroup themselves." The two agents tried to speak but couldn't make any words. "I have to say that you do pretty good magic for a couple of honky Americans. Of course, you wouldn't have been able to transport yourselves here if it hadn't been for me and the boy wonder. Isn't that right, Gibson?" "Yes," Gibson said. "That's right." "Overall, a job well done. Of course, you're going to have lay low. Really low. There's a lot of angry people out there who would..." Maryam then saw the looks on Scully and Mulder's faces. They had just noticed that there were in each other arms and not wearing a stitch of clothes. And they were touching each other for real this time. Not in a dream or a hallucination. For real. "Aw, hell," Maryam said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, Gibson." Maryam led Gibson back up the ladder. As he helped her close the trapdoor, he said, "They're gonna make out, aren't they?" "I'm afraid so. God, I hope we'll be able to get them out of there." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX From: "David Hearne" Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2000 20:22:02 -0400 Subject: xfc: War and Peace in Ntoto (6 of 7) Source: xfc TITLE: WAR AND PEACE IN NTOTO (6 of 7) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART SIX THE NEW KILEMBE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The following day after one of history's great turning points, Skinner showed up at the house of Maryam Dankabo with the Lone Gunmen. "Who the hell are they?" Maryam asked Skinner. "My distinguished colleagues. How is...?" She motioned with her head to the door. Skinner and the Lone Gunmen followed her inside. Mulder and Scully sat on the floor, a long shawl wrapped around their bodies. They were eating from the same bowl and their cheeks were touching. They didn't seem to notice their visitors. The other men felt like they had just stepped into a private bedroom. "Um, maybe we should..." Byers started to say. "Oh, get in here," Maryam snapped. "They've been like this the live-long day." Skinner and the Lone Gunmen looked at each other, then sat down on the floor with the two agents. Mulder looked up from the bowl. He examined the faces of Skinner, Byers, Langly, Frohike. Then he turned to Scully with a smile. "We have so many good friends." "I know," she answered. Not knowing what else to say, Frohike said, "Been a long time, Mulder." "Yes, well...I'm afraid you're going to be facing an even longer time." "What do you mean?" Byers asked. "After last night...after what Scully and I did before so many people...I'm not sure we can let ourselves be seen in public again." "We can't go back to our old lives," Scully added. "Too much has happened. The same can be said for the rest of the world." "That's a freaking understatement," Langly observed. "One thing the world doesn't need is Mwuetsi," Mulder said. "That's why I have to disappear." "Underground isn't the most comfy place to live," Frohike warned. "Well...it depends on who's with you there." Mulder smiled at Scully. She smiled back. "And if you have a couple of million dollars," Langly said. Everybody turned to Langly. He shrugged. "Since all those rich people at Ygdrasil aren't going to be using their accounts anymore, I thought I would borrow a little and stuff it in some offshore accounts." He motioned to Scully and Mulder. "Consider it a dowry for the kid." Frohike grinned and punched the holder of the world's best kung-fu on the shoulder. "Langly," Mulder said. "if Scully and I can be half as devious as you, we should have no problems at all." "Well," Maryam sniffed. "can't I have a little cash, too? I need some, considering that I have a child to raise." Scully said, "What are you talking...?" Then she remembered Gibson who was out playing with some local children. "This is where Gibson belongs," Maryam announced. No one in her house could (or would dare) say otherwise. "I guess that loose end is tied up," Skinner said. "Yeah," Mulder whispered. His face had suddenly turned grim. Scully was about to ask what was wrong before she realized the answer. "Samantha..." she said. Mulder nodded. "I don't know what Strunghold is doing right now, but..." "Don't worry about Strunghold," Skinner said. "I took care of him." Mulder and Scully looked at the big man in astonishment. A little smile appeared on his face as he said, "Samantha...or whoever she is...she's safe. You don't have to worry about her." "We have her container under protection," Byers said. "She's not out of stasis yet, though." He hesitated, then added, "If you want to, you can..." His voice trailed away. Mulder looked down at the floor. Scully pulled herself a little closer to him. After a long moment, Mulder looked back up and shook his head. "Whatever she may be, she needs to move on, too." Then he turned to Skinner and said, "I would say that the X-Files division is headed for a new phase, sir." "You could say that. Of course, without you around..." "You'll be around, sir." Skinner stared at Mulder and said, "Are you sure you want this?" "Only if you want it, too." "You know...I do." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder and Scully spent one more night at Maryam's house. During that night, they both had the same dream. They were walking across a plain. In their way was an enormous yet sickly tree. It must have been a glorious sight in its heyday but now its leaves were turning black, rot was crawling over its bark and its limbs were weakening. A man sat at the base of the tree. He wore only a brown loincloth and a cap divided into four colors. Under the cap was a bald scalp. A single lengthy braid of hair extended from the back of his head. He smoked on a pipe as he waited for the two agents to get within talking distance. "I thought we should see each other again before you departed," he said when they reached him. "Are you going to explain who you are exactly?" Mulder asked. Eshu lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Agent Mulder. You know better than that." Mulder nodded, then looked at the tree. "What kind of tree is this?" "This...is a Kilembe." Mulder and Scully immediately felt disturbed. "Who...whose Kilembe is it?" Scully asked. Eshu puffed on his pipe, then stood up and said, "It belongs to the world." "But it's dying." "That it is." "What does this mean?" Mulder said. "Does this mean colonization will occur after all? Will the aliens..." Eshu lifted a hand, then motioned with his shoulders towards the other side of tree. Mulder and Scully followed him there. A sapling was stuck in the ground behind the giant tree. It was only waist-high and thinner than a man's arm. Yet it promised to grow in the future. Eshu waited for the two agents to figure out the meaning of the sapling. Eventually Scully said, "This is the Kilembe for a new world." "A gold star to the lady," Eshu replied. "Then...the world is not going to die," Mulder said. "It's just going to change." "Maybe." "Maybe? You don't know?" "No, I don't. And that's the stone-cold, rock-hard truth." He pointed at the sapling with his pipe. "Maybe this means that the people of the world are going to change their lives. Maybe it means that the human race will soon die. Whatever the truth is...you should always keep something in mind..." "What's that?" That's when Eshu grinned. He did a full three-hundred-sixty-degree turn. After he completed it, he was wearing a black tuxedo with long spats. His pipe had turned into a cane. The cap had transformed into a top hat, albeit one with the same color scheme. "Never forget to dance," he said. "Au fait, j'qi voulu tetetelephoner pour te demander..." Mulder and Scully could hear the music -- a woman's voice bouncing through the air. It came from nowhere they could see. "Allo, quequ'chose quoi, quequ'chose qoui..." Eshu started to dance around the sapling, twirling his cane and doing expert pirouettes. They watched him dance for a few moments, then looked at each other. They grinned and joined Eshu in the dance. "'Allo, 'allo...'Allo, 'allo..." They got so involved in the dance that they didn't notice how the sapling became a full-grown tree. It now stood tall and thick over them. As they danced around it, golden petals descended from the flowers growing from its limbs. They felt soft as a lover's touch. Mulder and Scully noticed a fourth dancer. It was a child. They heard a youth's laughter. They could still hear it when they woke up. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX From: "David Hearne" Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2000 20:28:59 -0400 Subject: xfc: War and Peace in Ntoto (7 of 7) Source: xfc TITLE: WAR AND PEACE IN NTOTO (7 of 7) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART SEVEN AN EPILOGUE CONCERNING UNREMARKABLE PEOPLE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The world events following the events at Ygdrasil were too large to describe within one tale. After what the world had seen, nothing could continue on as usual. One of those trying to adjust to the changes was Margaret Scully. What helped the woman through was a letter delivered to her by Assistant Director Walter Skinner. It read -- "Dear Mother, God may be generous, but the world is not. If it was, then I could promise that you would see your grandchild. However, we must all make due with what has been given us. I can promise that my new family is safe. I have found my way back to the man I love. We're living in shadows but there is more light here than I would have thought possible. We have found happiness after a long, hard road. I believe that it's ours to keep. I wish I could explain everything. Maybe it's not my job to do so. Maybe everyone has to find their own way to the truth -- me, you, Mulder, the whole world. I know you have the strength to do so. I'll be praying for you. And I'm hoping to see you again. Yours, Dana" After he delivered that letter, Skinner travelled to a cave in south Texas. A timid, nervous woman with dark hair went there with him. It had been an uneasy journey for her. She was still trying to accept that she had not been the woman she had believed herself to be. When they reached the cave, however, her nervousness vanished. She walked in ahead of Skinner. He wanted to pull her back but she walked with too much confidence. "Hello?" she called out. "I know you're here." It came out of the shadows. Skinner's flashlight bounced its glare off grey skin and black eyes. He took a step back. However, the woman who still called herself Samantha held out a hand. The friend of Gibson Praise placed its long-fingered hand on her palm. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX He had been standing against the railing for over a hour. She watched him as he looked at the ocean. Ever since they had gone underground a year ago, he had managed to stay optimistic. Even as they bounced from one country to another, he had remained happy. Now, as he stood on the ship's deck, he seemed depressed. She walked up to him. The wind made her long blonde hair twitch. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Hm?" "Is something wrong?" "Oh, no. No." He rubbed his cheek. "Just thinking about shaving off the beard here. It's been a long while and maybe we don't need to stay so incognito. And it would be nice if you went back to auburn..." "I see." "You see what?" "You're upset that you've been forgotten." Mulder shoved his hands into the pockets of his old jeans. Like the ship itself, his clothes were inexpensive and unremarkable but still reliable. If you were to look at him and his wife's equally cheap clothes, you would never suspect that they had large bank accounts. "Well, isn't that what we wanted?" he said. "To be forgotten?" "It's what was necessary. But that's not why you started on this path so many years ago." "Why did I?" "To be recognized. To have the world acknowledge your suffering and your beliefs. Now your beliefs have been confirmed but the world still moves on without you." She spoke those words without harshness. He accepted them with no rancor. Still, he sighed. "It just doesn't feel right..." "Why?" "You were there, Scully. At one moment, we were at the center of everything." "So history should stay put for us?" She paused, then added, "You are a very fine person, Mr. Mulder, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!" Neither of them looked at each other, but they both knew the other was grinning. "This is where you say 'Thank goodness,' Mulder." Mulder remained silent but he turned to Scully and kissed her on the forehead. Then he bent down and did the same for the baby in her arms. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX AUTHOR'S NOTE: Man, mythology stories can be a pain. I'm looking forward to doing some short stories and a long fantasy tale called "Fairies Wear Boots." Among the writers whose words I used here are Mark Twain, Joseph Conrad, J.R.R. Tolkien, Dr. Seuss and Garth Ennis. Thanks, guys. Once again, I have used a lot of songs in this story. I suppose that comes out of being a movie nut. A lot of films use songs for numbingly commercial reasons (think "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves," "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" and "Titanic") and others use them to flaunt their hipness (think Quentin Tarantino.) However, I can think of instances where the music and the image are perfectly blended -- Nat King Cole singing over images of a rainy street in "The Long Day Closes," the anarchy of the riot scene from "In the Name of the Father"being accentuated by "Voodoo Child,"Dean Stockwell lip-syncing Roy Orbison in "Blue Velvet." However, the film that stands out for me is "Mean Streets." From Harvey Kietel dropping into bed to "Be My Baby" to Robert De Niro dancing to "Mickey's Monkey" with a fight scene set to "Please Mr. Postman" in between, Martin Scorsese's film uses popular music in a sharp way that hasn't been matched. I have created my own little soundtrack here. If you're curious, here's what "The Kilembe" album should look like -- 1. "Deeper Well" by Emmylou Harris 2. "Running Down a Dream" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers 3. "Who'll Stop the Rain?" by Creedence Clearwater Revival 4. "In the Air Tonight" by Phil Collins 5. "She's Lost Control" by Joy Division 6. "We Return" by Black Tape for a Blue Girl (Not actually featured in the story, but it makes me think of the colonists.) 7. "Be-Bop-a-Lula" by Gene Vincent 8. "Cosmik Debris" by Frank Zappa 9. "Leather" by Tori Amos 10. Fourth movement of Mahler's 2nd Symphony 11. "House Burning Down" by Jimi Hendrix 12. "'Allo, 'Allo" by Zap Mama 13. "I Believe in You" by Bob Dylan Some of you might snort at the inclusion of Phil Collins. "What, is he going start using 'NSync songs next?" No, I'm not going to use bloody 'NSync songs. And, yes, a lot of Collins is pure bollocks. However, there are a few of his early songs -- "In Too Deep," "Against All Odds," "In the Air Tonight" -- where he seems way too moody a guy to be singing pop ballads. Besides, some songs just get to you whether you want them to or not. Enough with the music editorials. On to the next story. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX