=====o======================================================o===== "Zurvan" by Mary Ruth Keller E-mail: mkeller@universe.digex.net =====o======================================================o===== Chapter X - City of Bears (Disclaimed in Chapter I) -----o------------------------------------------------o----- I, Christine, concentrating on these explanations of Lady Reason, replied to her regarding this passage: "My lady, I realize that you are able to cite numerous and frequent cases of women learned in the sciences and the arts. But I would then ask you whether you know of any women who, through the strength of emotion and of subtlety of mind and comprehension, have themselves discovered any new arts and sciences which are necessary, good, and profitable, and which had hitherto not been discovered or known. For it is not such a great feat of mastery to study and learn some field of knowledge already discovered by someone else as it is to discover by oneself some new and unknown thing." She replied, "Rest assured, dear friend, that many noteworthy and great sciences and arts have been dis- covered through the understanding and subtlety of women, both in cognitive speculation, demonstrated in writing, and in the arts, manifested in manual works of labor. I will give you plenty of examples." excerpted from "Livre de la Citie des Dames" (The Book of the City of Ladies) (1405) by Christine de Pizan translated by Earl Jeffrey Richards -----o------------------------------------------------o----- Lowenberg Residence Santorini, Greece Monday, March 30, 1998 7:02 am Dana Scully tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps. She had scooted out to the east veranda early in the morning, hoping to sleep without her two guardians hovering over her. She tipped her head to the side when she heard the sound of one of the shade umbrellas clipping into place. "Your Mother will never forgive me if you burn, Dana." The deep baritone was rich with Max's British-style inflections, still, after all those years in America, bearing the stamp of formal education in a language that was not his first. She felt his hand drop on her shoulder, then she focused on the white-haired man's welcoming smile. "Thanks." He chuckled. "They can be a little much, can't they?" She nodded. "I'd forgotten. I keep expecting Mulder to carry me from room to room." She tucked up her feet so Max could sit. "How has he been?" Max sighed. "Wired. Running on some gear the rest of us had once when we were twelve, or never had at all." He smiled gently. "Just as you warned me he would be. I've never worked with someone who could leap like he does." He bounced both hands along an imaginary surface in the air. "Topic to topic. Making connections we had to force him to explain." Scully lifted one corner of her mouth. "I know. Having to run the section was a real challenge. We had to try to bring two other agents up to speed, and we had to make sure we weren't losing ourselves in the process. How has it been with him and Caroline?" He chewed his moustache for a moment before responding. "Difficult. They're fine together as long as they're working with clues and puzzles. In fact, she's probably the only one who really understands how he thinks. But as Mother and Son, it's been a struggle." Scully interlaced her fingers on her waist, then separated them again, wincing at the twinges. "They're both so needy of each other's love, as it should have been given, not as it was." He nodded. "I'm glad you're here, Dana. You help stabilize him, focus him." He waved his hand over the bruised fingers on her stomach. "But you must recover yourself. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need the rest. I think I can keep him occupied for that length of time." He lifted his eyes to the glass doors when they slid aside. "Hello, Mulder." Scully twisted on the chaise lounge. "Hey." He was carrying a tall glass of lemonade. "Your Mom made this for you, Scully. You," he touched the gauze on her forehead, "shouldn't be having caffeine." Max rose. "Is there enough for the rest of us?" Mulder nodded absently, focused on the woman in the chair. "Then I think I'll have some before Caroline drinks it all." Scully met the older man's eyes. "Thanks." Mulder settled on the pre-warmed spot by her legs, now stretched out again. "It's cool here in the mornings." He rubbed her calf, bare under the shorts she had slept in. "Let me get you a blanket." She waited until he had fussed a crocheted coverlet over her legs and hips, carefully tucking it under her shoeless feet. "Mulder, I'll live." She sent him her thanks in a tiny smile. "You and Mom really don't have to make up for the past two months all in a few days." He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, settling for silence as he rested one hand on the wool covering her knee. A sudden thought appeared. He closed his eyes. She sipped the lemonade, then set the blue-tinted tumbler on the glass-topped side-table. "So, anything new from the guys?" He lifted his face to meet her gaze. "Just Frohike pestering me about you." Scully smiled faintly. "He took your fish, you know." Mulder frowned. "What? You mean they didn't all die?" She shrugged. "No. For a while, I had them over at my place. But when I knew I was coming here, I asked them to watch out for both our apartments. I was surprised when he *volunteered* to set-up an aquarium back at their office." Feeling her muscles stiffening, she twisted on the seat. "I was downright shocked when the three of them showed up, some battery powered bubbler in a two gallon set-up, ready to transport them." He grinned. "Those three." Relaxing for a moment, she continued. "I accused Frohike of wanting to take the fish so they could implant microphones in them." Chuckling, he slid a single sheet of paper out of his pocket. "Nah, they probably left a video set-up so he can record my tapes, once and for all." He sobered. "But Pendrell CC'ed me this, with the original to you." Holding out the page, he frowned. "What's he checking on for you?" She filled him in quickly, concluding with a surprised, "I wasn't expecting anything back so soon." He grinned. "What some guys won't do for true love." Scully glared over at his joke before focusing on the words on the page. "Oh. I see." He peered over the top of the paper. "What? All that mumbo-jumbo confused me." She crumpled up the sheet, then tossed it to the flagstones. "There wasn't a good enough sample of Charlie to test. Bill's and Mel's are being processed." He slid closer to her. "So, what does that mean? All you need is a current sample from Charlie." She raised an eyebrow. "He won't understand, Mulder, you know that." Mulder touched her hand. "Then we have to make him, don't we?" She shook her head. "No, I have to. It's my problem. You have to find your sister." He shifted until he was facing away from her. "Scully, don't do this." He grasped her swathed ankles, knowing a direct question was the only way to force her to address this coolness between them. "Why won't you let me help you? You've been distancing me from this problem with your brothers ever since it started." She leaned forward to touch his back, the contact bringing him around to face her. "Mulder, I'm your partner, remember? I know how you are. Every time we get close to the issue of Sam you get so, so," words escaping her, she chewed her lower lip in frustration. He sighed. "Irrational? Paranoid?" Her green-blue eyes cleared. "Tormented. After the last time this came up..." she paused, taking a moment to compose her next statements carefully. He shifted uncomfortably. "But when you memories were coming back, I was there, Scully, I didn't abandon you, did I?" His eyes were dark, flashing between haunted and deeply afraid, his shoulders hunched, in that pose Scully had imagined him assuming before a raging father. Her course clear, Scully wrapped an arm around her calves, the blanket falling away since one edge was anchored under her partner's hip. She rested her fingertips on his knuckles. "I know you need the space to deal with Samantha in your own way. The work in the X-Files we do together; we're partners. But this, this search for Sam, has driven you all your life, it's been your quest. I'll do all I can to help, and if it hadn't been for," she touched her forehead, "all this, I'd be pushing myself out of this lovely little paradise to sway on camels with you through the Sahara to find her." She dropped her chin on her knees. "But I can't, Mulder, not just yet." She stared off at the deep blue of the Mediterranean, fully expecting him to berate her for her inadequacy, as she felt she deserved. He reached around to take her by both shoulders. She clenched her fists. "I didn't let the hospital staff check me out because I knew what was wrong with me. The headaches and dizziness I've been feeling are all symptoms of a concussion, and that takes more time to recover from than either of us can afford to waste." A sad little smile stretching his lips, Mulder smoothed her hair away from the bandage. "Scully, you need to understand..." She settled back, shifting out of his hands. "I know I promised to help you find Sam back in DC before we went to the Arctic, but all I can do now is stay out of your way until I'm well. In a little while, I'll be able to stand guard over our parents, if you want to return to the States and continue with the search. The Gunmen have things fairly well in hand, but I can't ask you to chose between us, Mulder. After you thought you had lost her on the Bethesda bridge..." He shook his head. "She wasn't even a clone of her. She was just supposed to look like her. They both said as much in Franklin Bay." He reached over to grasp her wrist. "But as far as my leaving you behind, forget it." She arched one brow. "What? But Mulder, if you need to go, go! I couldn't live with myself if you lost an opportunity to find your sister because of me." He edged up the seat, leaning until he was as much in her face as during any one of their arguments, or when they were trading jests. But his eyes were their darkest, drained of any mirth or anger. "I don't think we have to worry about missed chances." She returned the gaze unblinkingly, focusing first on one pupil, then the other. "What? What do you know that you haven't told me?" He shrugged. "It isn't what I know, it's what I've figured out, I think." She pressed her back into the cushions. "What?" He rose, pacing as he composed his thoughts. He stopped at the foot of her lounge, his hands clasped behind his back, prepared as if for an examination by his professors back at Oxford. "We don't know who is in charge of the Consortium right now, the group we think we had uncovered, or Morley Man." He licked his lips. "Think about the new leaders of the Consortium. While they occasionally act on the spur of the moment, as they did in Miami," he face colored momentarily, "none of them are deliberately cruel or capricious. The most outstanding characteristic they seem to share, especially with our Cigarette- Smoking friend, is an infinite capacity for plans and schemes. Mom told me how much he was like a Grandmaster in chess, always move and counter-move. She said he never liked to proceed without double and triple redundancies in his preparations." Looking up at him, she nodded. "Based on what she's told me, I can certainly agree with that." He shifted his weight to one foot. "Also, they seem to only like to act against us when we're separated, isolated from each other, or from any outside resources. They tried to take you when you were apart from me in Miami, and again when you were on your own back in DC." She rubbed her hairline. "Mulder, that was my mistake, not any manipulation on their part. I thought I could handle the trial on my own." She let her head drop back onto the cushions. "I was wrong." He settled beside her again. "But how can we be certain of that? We've been manipulated from the first, by Deep Throat, then by X. How do we know this isn't more of the same?" Scully's green-blue eyes narrowed as she reviewed the events of the past few months. "Maybe you're right about this, Mulder. But how can we tell? It's like we're pushing on play-dough. Sure, if we work hard, we take away crumbs, little fragments of knowledge. How do we get the whole picture?" He grasped her wrist. "We need to beat them by acting in ways they don't expect. I've been spared because I've not been alone, not with the help you and," he waved his hand at the house, "all them have given me. "No doubt they're anticipating that I'll follow my usual behavior now and ditch you here to look for Sam. What they have in mind then," he shrugged, "I couldn't begin to guess." He crossed his arms before he stated flatly. "We need to stick together, Scully. That means I wait until you're well. I can't forget what happened when we both tried to go back to work too soon in August." She raised her chin. "OK. I agree that if they wanted to keep us from finding out about her we wouldn't have proceeded this far in the investigation. But what if they're waiting for you to find Sam just so they can take her away from you for good? To try to break you?" He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "But what would that accomplish? With the data on the Net, with the trial transcripts, with what we've given Matheson, we've proven too much, exposed too much, for a threat to Samantha to silence me. If anything, I'd push for more disclosure, not less." He glanced over. "Besides, if they're waiting to snatch her just before I find her, then the timetable is ours to set, not theirs." She crossed her arms, rubbing them to warm them. "OK. I won't force you to go, Mulder. I never could make you do anything you didn't want to do." He was regarding her with that dark, anticipatory expression that shielded his thoughts from her. "As for Sam, Deep Throat took her out of the Consortium's control. Saunders told us no one was even certain where she was right now, so even if we did break into their data files, I could never find her from their records." He grasped her wrist. "I know that from what your Father told me at the Solstice. We *will* find her by working together. I wasn't sure I believed that then, but after what we've learned since, I'm certain of it." Scully rubbed the back of her neck slowly. "I'll let you keep that certainty for both of us. All I'm sure of is that we have real clues here, and if we keep at it, we'll find her." She reached for his hand to move it away from her arm, where it rested as if glued. "What about those new files?" From the distant, unfocused set to his face when he turned to her, she knew he was looking inward, to the past. His jaw firm, Mulder leaned over her. "No one will make me chose between you two. No one, not even you." He cupped her cheeks in his hands. "No one." She turned towards the table and the tumbler, sliding her chin out of his grasp. "I hope it doesn't come to that again, Mulder." She sipped the lemonade again. "This is good." He was still studying her carefully, still wearing that expression she could never fathom. "You can tell your Mom." He waved towards the glass entrance. "Hi, Mrs. Scully. I found her. She's all right." Scully raised an eyebrow at the changes in her partner. His voice had shifted from the deep, near-baritone he employed when discussing options seriously with her to the carefree little-boy tenor she had always known him to use around Margaret Scully. Margaret had been watching from the door. "I can see that, Fox." She bent over the top of the lounge to run her hands over her daughter's hair. "Now, shoo, honey, before you catch a chill. Breakfast will be ready soon." Playing along, Scully rolled her eyes. "And to think I came out here to escape all this fussing." Suddenly serious, Mulder extended his arm, but smirked when she draped the blanket over it. "You're stuck with us both, Scully." She lifted one corner of her mouth. "I thought that was what Blevins wanted all those years ago, Mulder." Margaret Scully rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder, but her eyes fell on the dark-haired man by Scully's feet. "Fox, if you don't mind, I'd like to speak with Dana for a few minutes." Immediately, his brows knitted, so he searched first, his partner's face, then her mother's, returning to his partner's. Scully's lip twitched, then her face slid into her 'I don't want to deal with this either' mask. He nodded. "OK." Margaret hastened to reassure him in language she hoped he recognized. "Don't worry, I'm only planning on commenting on your finest qualities to my oblivious daughter." As he stood, he chewed his lip, then responded. "That's what I'm worried about." He held his partner's gaze before he stepped away. Margaret took his place by her daughter's feet, leaning towards her as she began. "Dana, I know you don't want to hear this, but..." The younger woman had curled her self into a tight ball. "Mom, I'm fine. I just need some rest, that's all. You and Mulder should stop coddling me." Margaret's fist crashed against the glass tabletop. "Stop lying, Dana, you aren't fine! I heard you tell your partner about the nausea and dizziness. I'm your Mother! Why won't you come to me with these things?" She crossed her arms. "I made you, carried you for nine months, I have a right to know." Scully hugged her knees. "Mom, I am an adult, and a doctor. If I thought I was putting you..." Margaret bent over the agent, her expression fierce with protectiveness. "That's not the point here. After what I've seen in the documents you four keep passing around," standing, she threw her arms out, "this treating me like a silly little girl, I just can't accept passivity. As a Navy wife, I was always prepared for the worst. Always. But, if I believe what you four have been working on, so many more will be lost." Scully rose reluctantly from the warmth of the cushions. "Mom, it's so hard to know how to tell anyone all of this. You know how it is in the military," she began pacing by the pool's edge, "never talk about the things that really matter, always keep everything on the surface, light," she waved her hands in frustration, "pleasant, cheerful." She stood in front of the older woman. "Never speak of tragedy, because you might be next. So, with you, Bill, and Charlie, I don't. But with Mulder, it's different." Margaret had tugged the blanket off the chair, folding it in quarters before she threw it down on the flagstones. "How? Don't you think I want to know what's going on? Do you think I like being kept in the dark, being told to go make coffee or look after the grandchildren while you two collect evidence that says our very way of life, our values and ideals are all a sham? Is that what working with him," she gestured angrily at the sliding glass door, "has brought you to?" Scully crossed her arms, stepping up to her mother. "No, Mom, it hasn't." She reached out to grasp Margaret's hand, but the older woman turned away. Scully arched both eyebrows, studying the flagstones before she continued softly. "Mulder is one of the most idealistic men I know." Margaret spun, listening carefully. Scully shrugged. "Part of the reason I tell Mulder everything is that's what we need, as partners, to do." She took a step closer to her Mother. "If I'm feeling dizzy, or weak, and I can't work through it myself, then I would be putting our lives at danger if we had to go into a difficult situation." Margaret closed her eyes, willing herself not to think that every one of her living children took far too many risks. She reached for her mother's arm. "Partly, we haven't told you because we're never certain how much we're observing is real or how much is hearsay and confabulation." She walked back to the lounge, settling down gingerly. "We walk a fine line, Mulder and I. He pulls me over to check out something, that if it were real, would revolutionize some field of human understanding, or shatter comfortable fictions. I tug back, making him look carefully at all the logical pit-falls inherent in what he wants to believe. If between us, we can come to a consensus, then we know we've found truth in all the confusion." Margaret crossed her arms. "So that's what this is all about, solving some puzzle? Don't you know what this life he's chosen has done to him, and what it's doing to you?" Scully nodded. "It's been rough for him, hasn't it?" Margaret began pacing. "I never knew how bad it was until now. I'd hear noises outside my room, open the door, and here would be this ghost of a man, prowling the house in the middle of the night. I don't see how he functions like that. I don't understand how you've put up with it for so long." Scully reached down to retrieve the blanket. "We just try to be there for each other, Mom, it's all we can do. If we dwell on fear, we'll both just go quietly insane." She hugged the coverlet tightly. "Perhaps now you understand..." Margaret settled by her daughter's feet. "Maybe it's not enough. Perhaps now you need to stop to deal with the emotions, the damage this is all doing." Scully shook her head. "Not now, but soon. Once we find Samantha, Mulder will have no choice but to make some changes in his life. Maybe then he'll have the time and energy to work through the ramifications of all we've learned." She rubbed her face. "Maybe then I will too." --o-0-o-- Lowenberg Home Santorini, Greece Monday, 1:24 pm After resting her unfolded reading glasses on the desk top, Scully leaned back in the carved padded chair and sighed. The metallic click had Mulder, pacing while they waited for the latest download from the Gunmen, hovering over her. "Scully, you OK?" She stopped massaging the bridge of her nose to cock one eyebrow at her partner. "Most women would think that having a mysterious and handsome government agent attending their every need *more* than just OK. But in this case - " "Would two make it better?" Both turned to the entrance. Yuseph Hiram crossed to the desk, hand extended. After introducing himself, he grinned. "You must be Dana Scully." Edging closer to his partner, Mulder crossed his arms. "What brings you here?" The tanned man half-turned towards the door. "Something potentially serious, I'm afraid. I've already given the documents to Max, but I wanted you both there when we discussed it." --o-0-o-- Max and Caroline were holding hands while waiting on the deck, she wearing her frightened, anxious mask that dropped Mulder's heart to somewhere near his heels. The dark-haired man was at his Mother's side in two leaping steps. "What is it, Mom? More bad news on Sam?" Her face cleared. "No, Fox, not that at all. Something a little more recent." She looked to their guest. "Yuseph? Would you mind?" The Mossad agent waved the partners to seats at one of the glass- topped tables. "While following up on the Silverbergs, I contacted several of the agents working on the Swiss antiquities cases." He glanced at Max, who waved him on. "There have been many, irregularities, shall we say, in how these supposedly secured accounts have been maintained, audits when none were called for, access to the accounts by unqualified persons." Mulder was on his feet. "Someone's been at the D'Amato papers themselves." Hiram held up both hands. "No, not in specific. But the vault in which those documents have been stored was compromised. Before the materials are moved to a more secure location, along with everything else that was there, the officials have - " Scully rose as well. "Why didn't the bank come forward with this? A compromise of their physical security involves more than just us, or lost Jewish properties." Her green-blue eyes flicked to Max's face. "Sorry." The white-haired man shrugged. "The Swiss are very conscious that this compromises their integrity and the image of quiet competence. I suspect this information was given in absolute confidence by unidentified sources." The Mossad agent nodded. "In that packet," he pointed to a black folder on the glass, "are internal documents tracking accounts handling. I've brought them to you to check over, to look for suspicious or unauthorized access." Scully sat to begin thumbing through the contents. "Why us? Admittedly these are our accounts, but why not work with a bank official or an agent who specializes in financial irregularities?" After a quick glance at Mulder, Hiram stepped behind her chair. "It's the unique nature of these materials that required I bring them to you, Agent Scully." Bending over her, he flipped several pages to point to a series of entries. "These, for instance, are in a slightly different handwriting from the pages previous or following." Scully looked up at his sparkling dark eyes. "And you have no idea who this individual is?" Kneeling, he held the edge of the table as he gazed up at her. "At present, no. We're working on acquiring handwriting samples from current and past employees, but that takes time." "Shouldn't you be getting on with it, then?" Mulder was gripping the back of Scully's chair with both hands. Hiram rose to return the dark-haired man's glare. "That's exactly what I intended to do, after I dropped these off with you." He dropped his eyes to Scully's. "There's an officer in the Bern Police Department, a Gunther Klaus, who is working with us on this case, should you need to speak to someone in the country." Caroline moved to the Mossad agent's side. "You don't need to be in a hurry, Yuseph, you only just arrived." She turned her head slightly to catch the frustrated set to her son's lips. "Stay for some lunch." Mulder began shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes moving from the top of his partner's head to the Mossad agent's back. Smirking slightly at the other man's discomfort, Hiram took Caroline's hand. "No, I have work to do. Some other time, though, I'd be delighted." Max rose. "Then I'll show you to the door." Hiram nodded his farewells, shaking hands with Scully prior to his departure. Mulder watched until he disappeared into the darkness of the interior. "Good riddance." As she turned to the pages in the report, Scully rolled her eyes when only Caroline could see. The older woman smiled back. --o-0-o-- Lowenberg Home Santorini, Greece Monday, 10:11 pm Scully stood in the doorway of her Mother's bedroom, uncomfortable with what she had come to do. "Mom?" Margaret was just lifting her latest quilting project from the bulging cloth bag she took with her on nearly every long trip. "Yes, Dana?" Scully moved forward, fingering the covered padding in her mother's hands. "Who is this for?" Margaret looked down at the squares of white cloth, then smiled. "Oh, just a way to thank Max and Caroline for my stay here. Everything bleaches in this sunlight so, I thought, why not make a double ring pattern in different shades and textures of white?" She began to spread the scraps of fabric over the bed, talking happily for a few minutes. Scully clenched her hands in her lap. These elaborate crafts projects bored her, as a rule, but for what she had to ask, she would put up with whatever her Mother needed to tell her. Margaret stopped, no longer able to ignore her daughter's restless fingers. "Dana, say what you wanted to say to me." Scully looked out the wide windows in the room to the rock garden on the slope beyond. Recognizing the hairy and creeping thymes cascading over the red boulders, she fell silent. A touch of her mother's hand to her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. "Dana? Are you feeling well, dear?" Scully sighed. "Oh, just a little tired." She rose. Margaret rubbed her side. "Is it your head again?" Scully crossed over to the window, seeing the pale blue blossoms on the prostrate rosemary for the first time. She crossed her arms, speaking without turning. "Mulder tells me you won't let him look at Ahab's diary. Is what is says about him and his family truly that terrible?" She shifted to catch a reflection of her mother's face in the glass. Margaret had moved over to the olive-wood secretary in the room to hover protectively in front of the left side. "Dana, I'm not sure what you mean." Scully walked over to her, reaching for the deep drawer on the bottom. Margaret caught her by the wrist. "Dana, no!" When she realized she had shouted, Margaret covered her mouth. "I mean," she whispered, "not yet. Please? As your mother, I'm asking you not to question me about this again." Scully backed away to the door. "OK, Mom, but if it's about Ahab, I need to know. I'll see you in the morning, all right?" Margaret simply shook her head, then turned back to her quilting. --o-0-o-- Scully shivered, feeling a brooding presence in the room. She threw off the covers, then stood, searching for her Sig in the nightstand drawers. "Looking for this?" She spun, hearing a female voice. Her weapon was spinning on its barrel tip, balanced on the index finger of a breathtakingly beautiful woman, whose sleek black hair fell in spiral curls to her waist. As the figure approached, the flounces and ruffles, running in layers from the floor to just above her waist, rustled with every sinuous step. Scully reached for the gun, hovering in front of her, then drew back. The dress ended just below the ivory hemispheres of her breasts, leaving them full and free. But what gave the agent pause were the snakes coiled down each arm, their several heads hovering around the extended palm. The auburn-haired woman's jaw set. "I've seen you." The kohl-lined eyes widened. "We keep coming back to that, don't we? Of course you have." Scully crossed her arms. "I know you. You're the Minoan snake goddess. I've seen your statues." The figure tossed the Sig contemptuously, sending it on an arc to land in the open drawer. "They're still a few around? I'm flattered." Her hands clenched by her sides, Scully advanced on the woman. "Why are you following me? You, the Inuit woman I saw in Alaska, all the others, you're all different faces of the Mother Goddess. Why are you after me? You know I can't have children." The woman extended her arms towards Scully, the snakes flaring into protective fans. "Oh, like that's the only thing women are good for?" Scully stopped, opening and closing her mouth in surprise. "What?" The goddess lowered her arms, the snakes slithering back up them until they were draped around her neck like a wide, black collar. "You heard me. Women are good for more than just giving birth. You know that, deep inside. Oh, that's all most women are ever encouraged to think is the meaning of their lives, but were it not for us, how would civilization ever have happened? Who do you think found the seeds that grew to grains and fruits to feed their families, tamed the animals who live with us," she brushed her hands lovingly over the serpents on her shoulders, "turned skins into clothes, flax into cloth?" Scully crossed her arms. "So? What does this have to do with me?" The slender figure was fading now, her parting words a breath on the night air. "Perhaps you should think about what you can do, rather than what you can't." Only the translucent whiteness of her skin was visible now. "Remember, Dana, what you can..." --o-0-o-- Lowenberg Residence Santorini, Greece Tuesday, March 31, 1997 1:03 am Margaret heard the familiar, ominous click of the bedroom door down the hall. She sighed. She had to confess, her conversation with her daughter was the last straw. Max was the dearest man she could imagine, always considerate with her, never forgetting the gift he had been given so many years ago. In return, she had been supportive, gracious, with Caroline and Fox, but enough was enough. The white-haired woman was beginning to deal with her pain, but according to Dana, the only solution she and Fox used was sweeping their problems aside until they turned into lurking monsters all on their own. She opened the bedroom door, just a slit between the frame and the edge, but it was enough. Fox Mulder was hovering outside her daughter's room, one hand on the doorknob. He was calling anxiously into the room. "Scully? You OK?" Margaret could hear the fatigue underlying the concern. There was no response. Mulder pushed the door inwards, disappearing slowly into the blackness. "Scully?" Margaret followed. When she entered, she saw him standing at the head of Scully's bed, gripping the carved wood of the frame tightly. Her daughter was sprawled diagonally across the mattress, one leg hooked over the covers, gooseflesh standing up on the calf. Her hair was in wild disarray, one arm thrown up around her head, the other holding the pale sheets and black wool blanket over her chin. Mulder glanced over when he realized he wasn't alone. "I heard her." He whispered the explanation. "She has," he struggled to find adequate words, but failed, "dreams." He slid the blanket from beneath her ankle, pulling it towards him until she was covered again. Margaret nodded, her earlier thoughts pushed aside. "She hasn't told me about any since last Christmas in Annapolis. Is it always this bad?" He rejoined her by the foot of the bed, draping an arm around Margaret's shoulders. "Sometimes." The simple admission startled her, so she leaned in closer. He bent towards her ear. "Not that she'd say, of course." He padded over to an armchair, settling in. "You need to go back to bed. I'll stay." When she reached across him to rest her hand on his shoulder, he shrugged. "I've had about as much sleep as I need tonight anyway." Margaret nodded. "When she gets back, she should talk to someone. All this fear locked up inside her isn't healthy." Mulder sat up, perfectly straight, fixing her in a stare that was part denial, part accusation. Margaret read the message his face was broadcasting, and closed the door quietly as she left. --o-0-o-- Tuesday, 2:41 am Feeling trapped, Scully threw the covers off her. "Hey." The offer was soft, tentative. "You OK?" She frowned at the man in the chair. "Mulder?" He smirked. "It heartens me to know that my name is the first word past of your lips on such a regular basis, Scully." She waved one hand at him, then slid off the mattress to walk to the door. "We need to talk." He followed her into the study, both settling on the couch in the corner. "OK, I'm listening." She arched both eyebrows. "It heartens me to hear you say that, Mulder." His right cheek twitched at her parry, but he kept silent. "I had another one of those dreams." She tucked tangled strands of hair behind her ear. "Whatever you think they are, there's something more I need to deal with here, something that remains undone before I can move on." He shifted to prop his head up with his arm, tucking his foot under his hip. "Well, that's something we can both agree on. What was this one about?" After recounting the content of her night's experiences, she eyed him cautiously. "I had a couple while you were here and I was back in DC." He cocked his head. "Oh? Why didn't you call me about them?" Turning sideways on the divan, she pulled her knees up to her chin, unconsciously ducking behind the wall her muscles and bones provided. "Uh, don't laugh when I tell you, please?" He straightened. "OK." Her left eyebrow had dropped so low that the eye itself was closed, while her right arched higher than Mulder remembered seeing for a long time. "In one of them, I shot the Virgin Mary. While she was pregnant." Mulder blinked, then coughed, struggling to keep a smirk off his face. Scully rose suddenly. "I knew you couldn't take this seriously, Mulder." Before she could walk away, one long arm shot out to grasp her wrist. "Yes, yes I can." He tugged her back to his side. "Sit. Sit, please." She held herself rigid, unwilling to move away, or settle. Mulder licked his lips. "Dana, please, talk to me. You have to admit, it's not exactly the easiest..." Closing her eyes, she dropped beside him. "Oh, I didn't intend to. I was testing as to whether this was a holographic projection, or whether I was hallucinating." She met his gaze, the hazel still sparkling with faint amusement. "I was afraid my water had been drugged, or I had been given some hallucinogen, the way you had been." Mulder rubbed her shoulder. "I have to say, only you would attempt an experiment during a dream," he shrugged, "or whatever this was." Scully's chin disappeared behind her knees again. "Oh, you think these are all some actual manifestations of the Mother Goddess, no doubt." Mulder frowned. "While it heartens me that you're willing to consider extreme possibilities, Scully, I'm not sure I follow you." Dropping her feet to the floor, she crossed her arms. "Sorry. After I woke up, I checked some of Missy's books on ancient religions. The Eskimo woman, the Virgin Mary, Artemis, and this Snake Goddess, are all considered different aspects of a universal Mother figure." The dark-haired agent cocked his head. "Artemis? But wasn't she a virgin who lived in the woods?" Scully rubbed her upper arms. "Great is Diana of the Ephesians. In her Asian aspect, she was a goddess of childbirth and fertility. She muttered about my not being ready yet for something." Mulder nodded. "Jung talked about that, too." He held up his hands. "Look, I'm not going to Troi you and say you have some hidden conflict in your psyche about your religious heritage. That'd be pot and kettle." She shrugged. "So? No brilliant answers?" He shook his head. "You were right in the beginning. You need to see where these take you. I know I'm asking something hard for you, but just relax. Don't try to take charge of what happens. Let the dreams run their course. We'll talk about them afterward." Scully sighed. "Mulder, with Samantha and all..." He rubbed his neck. "Don't start that. I'll be here; I want to help." He bent forward, whispering in her ear. "Just stop shooting things, alright?" She tipped her forehead towards him. "Mulder, you realize all this may be fatigue and this." She tapped the bandage on her forehead. "Every time one of these dreams has come, I've been injured..." He nodded. "Or under stress. I know. Or, it may be as simple as your intuition attempting to puzzle out the Consortium connections through some rather unusual imagery. But they may be something else, too. After Fordyce and how your memories came back to you, you shouldn't want to shut this down." He stood. "You should sleep, Scully." At her cocked eyebrow, he held out his hand. "That's way the only way you'll recover, you know that. Besides, I need a run right now." She rose. "Just stick to the path, OK? Let me know when you're back. We don't know whether that shape-shifter is on the island." He grinned. "Yes, Immanent One." She rolled her eyes as they walked back to their respective rooms. --o-0-o-- Lowenberg Residence Santorini, Greece Tuesday, 2:26 pm Her glasses partway down her nose, Scully has curled up on the sofa, spreading the documents from the latest Swiss report around her. She was puzzling over a hand-written notation in German. Mulder, sprawled out on the floor, had looked over when he heard her muttering. "Found something?" She dropped onto the carpet by his chest, her finger under the word in question. "Can you make this out?" He pushed his glasses up to his brow, then rolled onto his back, holding the paper in sunlight. "No, Scully, I can't. Maybe..." He sprung to his feet, then out the door. "Mom!" Scully lifted one corner of her mouth at his bellow. Her partner was in the living room now, still chattering, "Mom! Oh, hey, can you read this?" Scully trotted into the airy space, nodding to Max, who was smiling at the intense looks on the faces of mother and son. "Caroline? Does it make sense to you?" The white-haired woman was holding a pearl handled magnifying glass over the text. "The author, in some truly atrocious lettering, has written "Nein, nicht so", here in the margin." She ran the lens down the page. "Here, in the same handwriting, the author's crossed out this two and written "eins" above it." Mulder shrugged. "So, the Swiss like things correct. I thought that was why they were good bankers." Max shook his head. "No. That's German. The Bernese dialect uses French counting words." Looking from Scully to Mulder, Caroline read the confusion on their faces. "My apologies, children, each region of Switzerland has its own unique language, usually taken from some combination of French, German, and perhaps Italian. These documents are from the Kantonalbank in Bern. A local employee working there would hand-letter corrections in Bernese, not Deutsch." Mulder nodded. "So, we have to ask, why were Germans looking at twenty year old Swiss banking documents? The victims' reparations committees would find this stuff too young to be of interest." He eyed Scully cautiously. She stuck out her chin. "No way, Mulder. You're not ditching me here to run off and harass all those buxom Swiss maids on your own." She turned to Max. "How soon can we leave?" He checked his watch. "We can have you to the airport in three hours, if you need to. Caroline?" She looked up from gathering her notes. "If you and Margaret would be safe here, I'll go with these two. I have full access to all the pertinent accounts. We stored these documents with your papers and notebooks, Fox, so there's double reason to be concerned." Mulder was aghast. "Mom, you don't have to do this if you don't ...." Following a quick wink at Scully, she smiled up at him. "After all, Dana's right. You *will* need a translator to woo all those 'buxom Swiss maids'." Mulder was waving his arms. "But Mom, it's still cold there! What if we get snowed in and can't get back out?" Scully arched a brow. "Oh, Switzerland in springtime. What*ever* shall become of us? How*ever* shall we amuse ourselves?" The dark-haired agent looked from the white-haired woman to the auburn-haired one. "I'm outvoted here, aren't I?" Max chuckled. "Out-flanked and out-maneuvered, Mulder. If you ever find a wife, these two will have been excellent training in displaying good humor in the face of defeat." --o-0-o-- Train Station Bern, Switzerland Tuesday, 8:02 pm Caroline pointed up the limestone sidewalk. "Our hotel is that way." She looked back at her son, struggling with his duffle and her suitcase. "Are you certain you can handle all that, Fox? We could hail a cab." Scully stepped from behind him, her suit bag bulging with wool and cotton. "He's fine, Caroline." Tossing her head, she smirked. "Usually, he drags our case notes and bags to the car by himself." Mulder snorted. "Right. Most women pack shoes. The Doctor here likes to carry around several trees-worth of notes." He looked over at his partner. "You see anything of Klaus?" She glanced around. "Not yet. Are we supposed to meet him here or at the Police station?" "Here will be acceptable, Agent Scully." The enormous wool coat and short-brimmed hat obscured his features, so he stepped forward, his ID at the ready. "Gunther Klaus, Bern City Police." He grasped the strap of Mulder's duffle. "Let me help you with that. It's several blocks to the hotel." The partners glanced at each other, then Scully queried. "How did you know us?" Klaus shoulder the thick bag. "Hiram sent me a description." At Mulder's odd little glance, he shrugged. "A knock-out redhead, a dignified white-haired grandmother, and a tall man with dark hair." Caroline stepped towards him. "So, whom do we contact at the Bank tomorrow?" The wool moved from side to side. "No one, just yet. Even the assistant manager is under suspicion, at present. I've already spoken with the Director, who is as horrified as we are that his vaults were compromised covertly. Here in the Federal Capital, some things are taken more seriously, if you take my meaning." Mulder nodded. "Being as we're from another federal capital, I take your meaning precisely." The four walked uphill in silence, stopping by a dark oak door with thick glass inset for a window. Caroline eyed the flag waving in the motion of the passing cars. "This is the place. Where can we check with you, Inspector?" He waited until the proprietor had appeared to accept the duffle from him. "My office would be fine. Enjoy your stay in our country." With that, he vanished across the flagstone street. Caroline smiled. "So Swiss. Polite, precise, and brief." At her son's anxious tugging, she stepped inside. --o-0-o-- Hotel Krebs Bern, Switzerland Wednesday, April 1, 1998 7:02 am After adjusting his tie, Mulder rapped once on his partner's door. "Scully?" As he heard the lock rattle, he prepared a grin for her benefit. The trip from Santorini had been uneventful, two flights shorter than many they had taken to open a new case. His grin broadened. He sobered suddenly. Scully, looking comfortable in one of her grey wool skirted suits, glanced up at his face. "Mulder? You OK?" She sent up a trial jibe. "Looks like those dairy maids wore you out." As he escorted her to the stairs, he arched both eyebrows. "Nope. Slept better than I have in months afterward. You?" She tossed her head. "I still need to experiment before I leap into that wild lifestyle of yours, Mulder." At the landing, she looked back over her shoulder, noting that he, too was in grey wool. "That means I need a guinea pig or two." Bending over her shoulder, Mulder chuckled. "Promises, promises, Doctor." The proprietor met them at the bottom of the stairs. "I hope all was satisfactory with your room?" He extended his hand, palm up. Forcing herself not to stare at his oversized moustache, curled precisely on his upper lip to two exact points, Scully nodded politely. "Of course. Dark chocolate on my pillow makes everything better." She began to step around him, but the mustachioed man, his grey suit cut in traditional Swiss style with contrasting edging around the collar, cleared his throat. Mulder patted her spine. "He needs your key to clean the room. Mom explained it to me." After a quick backwards glance, she fished it from her briefcase and placed it in the outstretched hand. While they walked through the lobby to the small dining room, she called back. "Whatever happened to Trust No One?" Standing behind her chair, he pulled it out for her, waiting until she was settled to reply in a stage whisper over her shoulder. "After last night, I know where all the maids' loyalties lie." Scully shook her head, then smiled at the white-haired woman who had been spreading blackberry jam on a croissant. "Good morning, Caroline. Did you sleep well?" As formally attired as the two agents, she looked up, her eyes sparkling, to greet the auburn-haired woman. "Of course not. *Your* room, at least, isn't on the same floor as my son's." Mulder flushed a deep shade of purple. Tucking her chin, Scully hid her amusement by pouring coffee from the blue and white china carafe into her and her partner's cups. While checking his blush from behind her pageboy a final time, she set three slices of soft whole-grain bread on her plate. After squeezing a drop of lemon in her tea, Caroline sipped and passed Scully a folder. "These are the bank's document numbers for your papers. Max gave me the new access codes over the phone last night." Scully looked up from the pages. "But I thought you said you had them already?" Caroline shook her head. "I'm a signatory on the boxes. Max changes the access codes regularly." Suddenly focused, Mulder frowned. "Who else knows them?" Caroline held her teacup with her fingertips, her eyes shifting as she thought. "Outside of Max and myself, two bank employees." She tapped the edge of the topmost sheet. "Their names are on the first page." Scully flipped back to check the two signatures. "I can't tell which of these would be German." After closing the folder, she passed it to her partner. "If one of them speaks hoch Deutsch, our little mystery will be solved." Mulder blinked. "Scully, I never knew you spoke German." She shrugged. "Three years. Language requirement for medical school. I know the grammar, most of the common words. But after all this time, my vocabulary is *very* limited." Caroline patted her lips dry. "You didn't have to take Latin, too?" Scully lifted one corner of her mouth. "Not anymore. Viral and species names come from so many different languages now the requirement was dropped." Mulder looked from one woman to the other, both educated, both comfortable with each other's company. They continued eating in silence, until a sudden remembrance of the brief discussion the previous night made him gasp. Scully looked to her partner. "Mulder?" He turned to his Mother. "Mom, where is this bank? We aren't that far from the train station if we need to rent a car." Caroline patted his arm. "Nonsense, dear, this hotel is on the edge of the medieval part of the city and the bank is down by the Parliament House. We can walk anywhere we wish, or even take the electric trolleys." She dropped her napkin on the table. "This is Switzerland, after all. The streets are clean, everything is orderly. The bank opens at eight, which leaves us some time to look around. Shall we?" Scully folded her red and white checked linen napkin into its original creases before tucking it under the edge of her Delft- ware plate. "I'd love to. I've read that the town clock is a tribute to medieval mechanical works." Caroline nodded. "We shan't be far away from it, either." Mulder rose. "What, no one here works through lunch?" Caroline slid her hand around his muscled arm, enjoying this chance to show her handsome son off. "Eight to noon, two to six. The churchbells will ring to let us know." Mulder looked down at his white-haired Mother, his eyes light with affection, then ushered both women out the front door. Caroline was pointing as they stepped out into the brisk air. "Around to our left is the Post Office where Einstein worked, Dana. There's a little cafe where he used to take his lunches..." While the proprietor was clearing away the breakfast room tables, a thin drawer behind the counter was slid open, and three room keys carried away. A gloved pair of hands held the metal silently against the bone tags, the numbers scribed and silvered. The three keys disappeared into a grey wool suit pocket, the man in the dark suit vanishing before the next batch of tourists arrived to check in. --o-0-o-- Kantonalbank von Bern Bern, Switzerland Wednesday, 8:02 am Caroline, all quiet dignity, led Mulder and Scully though a spacious lobby, its roof held up by pointed Gothic arches. They moved under stained glass images of bears, shields and men-at- arms, stopping for a security guard. The uniformed man nodded, then, at a flash of her passcard, directed them to a plain brass door. The Director of the Bank hurried from his office in the front of the building to join them. After appraising their appearances, he offered a soft "Guten Morgen." Caroline nodded. "Morgen. Ich bin Frau Lowenberg. Herr Lowenberg und ich haben mehrere Bankkontoren hier." He offered further information in German before she held up her hand. "I spoke without thinking. My son and his partner are American." The compact man nodded. "Ah, quite." Scully caught the British colloquialism. "Good morning, Sir, we're here on an investigation..." He held up both hands. "No need to explain, Fraulein Doktor Scully. Herr, excuse me, Mister Lowenberg has already described you both to me, but I had forgotten you were American." He ushered them down a series of corridors, past banks of safe-deposit boxes, finally showing them into a room, like several others they had passed, two walls covered with numbered doors. A plain, but gleaming, table and chairs, all of cedar, occupied the center of the room. The Director placed a ring of keys in Caroline's hand. "These are for your boxes. Use them after you enter the combinations, not before. If you need anything, I'll be in my office." He pointed to a rotary dial phone on the wall. "Use this when you are finished and I'll come escort you out." A polite nod, then they were alone. Caroline slid a single sheet from her pocket, holding it as she began unlocking the doors. "I'll only be a minute here." Scully rested her briefcase on the table. "Caroline, what about those notes you've drawn up? Where were they stored?" Caroline called back over her shoulder. "Some of them are in these same boxes. We wanted to keep everything together, if you remember." Once the drawers were accessible, she headed for the doorway. "I'll go listen to the two employees who are the signatories. If I address them directly, they'll use whatever language I do, so I'll have to keep out of sight." His arms full of notebooks, Mulder looked over at her. "Mom, do you want someone to go with you?" She shook her head. "Who notices little white-haired ladies, Fox?" --o-0-o-- Frowning to herself, Scully had been turning over pages in one of the D'Amato notebooks repeatedly. Watching her, Mulder had kept silent, thinking she would pass her conclusions on to him when she had condensed them to concise statements. But, as the shuffling continued, he grew impatient. When she stripped off her latex gloves to finger and sniff the pages, he reached his limit. "What?" She looked up, the light from the overhead florescents striking her lenses and hiding her eyes momentarily. She lifted the wire- rims off her nose to chew on one earpiece. Mulder rested his chin on his palm. "What, Fraulein Doctor Scully?" She flicked her eyes at his smirk. "Oh, I can't quite put my finger on why, but I think someone's looked through this notebook." Rising from the chair on his side of the table, where he had been checking page annotations against the version on Scully's laptop, he walked around to hover over her shoulder. "Oh, what's niggling at you?" She lifted one corner of her mouth at his choice of words. "What's *niggling* at me, Herr Doktor, is how rough the pages in this specific notebook are. They used to be smoother and whiter than this." She flipped open a second binder. "See these?" She slid one hand across the surface of a sheet in each. "You check." She pushed both notebooks towards him. After removing his gloves to finger and rub several times, he nodded. "Yeah. This one has been examined. Every time I bend the page, the fibers break down further." She was wiggling the latex back into smoothness before she handled the brittle sheets again. "But only that one of those I've examined." She flipped the front cover into the light. "The last three characters of the ID should be 31c. How many pages are supposed to be in it?" He turned her laptop so he could tap several keys, then answered, "One hundred and thirty eight. How many do you have?" She counted quickly. "They're all here." Frowning, Mulder began pacing. "That one's barely of interest. It's just a record of clothing and furniture that they were shipping to New Mexico for the scientists they were moving." He read through the menu. "Kid's toys. Real junk." Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he cocked his head. "Can we narrow this down? Are there any pages more discolored than others?" She flipped again. "These." She held several sheets between her fingers. "Pages twenty seven through thirty eight." He stroked the mouse pad below the keyboard, moving the index to those pages. "Kid's toys. All of it kid's toys." Tipping her frames back on, she scanned the faded notations. "That's what it says here, too. Let's double check." He slid the laptop until it was above the notebook on the table. Silence fell over them, as two pairs of eyes flitted between the images on the screen and the yellowed pages, whose ring-holes were beginning to fray from repeated viewings. Finally, Mulder straightened from his crouch over her shoulder. "They look the same to me." She turned to look up at him. "I know. So, what was someone hiding in the toy trunks?" He put his hands on his hips, pushing his wool suit jacket behind him. "Are there weights on the shipped crates? Anything we can cross-reference to look for electronics, books?" Abandoning the paper as too fragile, Scully pulled the computer to her. "Langly worked that up for us. He'd tied anything numeric like weight into a data base for the Saunders case." Standing behind her, his arms crossed, Mulder chewed his lower lip. "OK. Since we never had to check at this level of detail, we've never really looked at the weights." She backed the documents up to a separate screen. "Here, we have weights for the separate smaller crates that came into the warehouses." More flashing. "Here, we have the combined values." She shook her head. "It's entirely possible that crates were broken down and their contents distributed among several others, Mulder." He nodded. "Give it a shot, Scully. It's the best we have to go on right now." She compared weights, running a few sums with her calculator. "Yes, there are differences." She frowned. "I'm not sure they matter though, because they don't amount to a pound or two, usually." He began pacing again. "They must have been attempting to hide something valuable in there, or why this interest fifty years later?" He turned. "These aren't for one family, are they?" She turned sheets. "As if someone were doing a little lunch-time genealogical research?" He cocked a questioning brow. She shrugged. "I thought I smelled mustard on the pages." She shook her head. "No, they are toys for several different families in here." She searched the data base again. "All with separate origins and separate destinations. Some went to New Mexico, some to Princeton, some to California." He bent over her. "Does it say where in California?" She nodded. "Los Angeles, San Francisco, Fresno, San Diego." He rubbed his chin. "All over." He dropped into the chair across from her. "No obvious connection." Arching both brows, he shook his head. "Well, they're safe, anyway. I'll read over those pages tonight, try to work something out." She smiled. "Letting your synapses do the walking?" He eyed her pensively. "Yeah, right. I wonder if Mom's having better luck than we are?" Scully began gathering the notebooks. "Mulder, you're worried. Go find her. Lord knows I've picked up after you enough times to be able to do this on my own." Standing, he sent his thanks in a tiny grin. "Yeah, her Miss Marple routine may not work here. Bern's not St. Mary Mead." Scully called over her shoulder. "Or Cabot Cove." Almost out the door, he shot back. "Murder Capital of Maine. Right." --o-0-o-- Resting on the circular bench in the center of the lobby, Caroline knew she had chosen a prime spot for her observations. After a few words with the guard, who had kept her under discrete observation, she had settled into a routine of nodding and smiling at the passing patrons. One small child had favored her with a slightly misshapen piece of marzipan, originally a replica of the blackened Cathedral that dominated the city skyline. But, her son was approaching from the vault entrance, his brow deeply furrowed. When the guard stepped towards her, Caroline smiled to wave him away, and Mulder's face grew stormier still. The dark-haired agent slid up beside her. "Mom? Are you OK?" She passed him the marzipan, still on its paper mount. "Of course. I've even been provided with a small snack." She waved gaily at a young couple passing them. "They're from the Piedmont. Charming." Bending forward, Mulder rested his elbows on his knees. "Mom!" He shot back in an intense whisper. "Have you found our scribbler?" She leaned over until she was propped against his side. "Do you see the little clerk in the red vest at the desk with the potted holly bush?" He nodded. "It isn't him. His wife is French; she stopped by to argue with him. He's a Gaul himself; he speaks with a proper Parisian accent. I'd place her from somewhere close to the Pyrenees." Suddenly all rapt attention, he twisted on the bench to face her. "The other?" She waggled her finger at the closest window. "Italian. Southern. My guess is that with the large number of boxes to keep changing access codes on, the task was given to two junior employees. Not a Swiss." Mulder crossed his arms. "Then who?" Caroline waved to Scully, who was returning the keys to an intensely helpful Director. "The assistant Director is German. I've heard him scold an employee for bad penmanship. Several of the tellers are Bavarian. We'll need to get samples of handwriting." Emerging from the access hall, Scully scanned the lobby for her partner or his mother. She spotted them talking, their heads close as they seriously considered their options, reminding her of their interactions when they were on a case. Feeling both immensely privileged to share in this experience while reluctant to disturb it, she joined them quietly. "Well?" Caroline quickly pointed out the Bavarians and the Assistant Director. "So, how do we get writing samples?" Scully reached into her pocket, then frowned. "Do they exchange currency here?" Mulder pointed to a large white rate board. "I'd say so." He pulled several twenties from his trifold wallet. "Each of us to a teller?" While rummaging through the contents of her grey leather handbag, Caroline nodded. "I have some Turkish paper money tucked away. Since that nation isn't a part of the EU, that may require the Assistant Director's signature." Scully lifted several of her remaining dollars from the slim canvas billfold she carried in her briefcase. "I'll leave half for tomorrow. We'll hit up the remaining candidates then." The three positioned themselves at the end of different lines. Mulder looked over at his Mother, amazed at the independent woman just a few feet away. When the customer at the window finished, his line shortened so he lost sight of both Scully and Caroline. He found himself looking forward to a free afternoon of sight-seeing with both of them. --o-0-o-- Hotel Krebs Bern, Switzerland Wednesday, 10:17 pm Mulder held the thick door for his mother and partner. "How do you find these places, Mom?" Caroline smiled up at her son. "Oh, a little reading in my spare time." Her eyes twinkled. "To be honest, I've been there with Max before." Scully lifted one corner of her mouth when the white-haired woman tucked an arm through hers. "Caroline, I'll regret that dessert for weeks, but all the chocolate!" Mulder smirked. "Wait till I tell Frohike the way to your heart, Doctor." Since they were waiting at the desk for their keys, she poked him in the ribs with her elbow. "You do that, and I think I know what I'll use as a thank you gift." Glancing at his mother, Mulder began shuffling uncomfortably. Caroline shook her head. "Nonsense, Dana, you're skin and bones. Your Mister Frohike would be doing you a favor." She looked up at Mulder, who had turtled his shoulders into a crouch. "Fox, you're an capable, intelligent adult. I trust you to take good care of yourself, so stop being ashamed of who you are." Both agents blinked at her, then at each other. But the white-haired woman was leaning over the counter, calling for the Manager. Red-faced, the man appeared from the back office. "I'm terribly sorry, but there seems to have been some problem with your rooms." He waved them into his office, where he pulled them into a tight huddle. "Your keys were missing this morning, all three of them. When we checked at noon, they had been returned." Mulder ran his hand through his hair. "Have you called the police? What did they say?" The Manager pushed his long hands toward the dark-haired agent. "Immediately. We had the keys and room tags dusted for fingerprints, then I had the locks changed. There is an Inspector waiting in the Breakfast area who would like to go through the rooms with you to see if any valuables were taken." He slid the service door to the tiny eating space open, so a slight, willowy man with grey interspersed through his thick brown hair could join them. "This is Inspector Klaus, of the Bern Forces." When all four exchanged nods, Caroline explained to the proprietor, "We've met for business reasons just yesterday." The policeman's English was mannered, but slightly nasal. "I see from your records that you, Mister Mulder and Doctor Scully, are with the Federal Bureau of Investigation?" He waited for confirming nods. "Shall we alert your field office, or would you rather handle this as private citizens?" The partners shrugged to each other, then Mulder replied. "As private citizens, for right now." The Inspector looked to Caroline. "If you don't mind, Mrs. Lowenberg, we may begin with you?" The four ascended the stairs in silence. --o-0-o-- Caroline's room was as tidy as she left it, only the bed-coverings turned back. While Mulder and Scully waited in the hall, she checked through her suitcase and briefcase, under the bed and in the bathroom. The Inspector was suriptitiusly checking behind mirrors and wall hangings, feeling behind the furniture and through the draperies. After rolling open the dresser drawers she had used, she shrugged. "I didn't leave anything valuable in my room today; we had our appointment at the bank." She joined Mulder and Scully in the hall. The Inspector scribbled several notes to himself in French. "No listening devices, as far as I could tell." The agents' rooms were similarly untouched, so the four repaired to the breakfast room again, waiting until the Manager had seen to another group of guests. Inspector Klaus laid his memo pad on the table. "Since there seems not to have been any covert entry to your rooms, one wonders what the motivation behind this is." He fingered the hem of his jacket restlessly. "Forgive me for speaking before we have all the facts, but you, Mrs. Lowenberg, and you, Mister Mulder, are of Jewish heritage, are you not?" Mulder interlaced his fingers together on the red and white checked tablecloth, then pressed his palms against each other until they turned white to the fingertips. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." The Inspector began to shift on the contoured wooden seat, the spindles in the back creaking audibly. "There has been so much suffering, so many unfortunate incidents that have come to light with the banks, I fear you may have been caught in a backlash of events that are only partially understood." Scully crossed her arms. "While your concerns are duly noted, Inspector, I really don't think the settling of bank accounts from victims of the Holocaust," she paused when the Inspector and the Manager, now standing behind him twitched, "is involved here." She exchanged a glance with Mulder, then rested her hands on the tabletop. "I'm Catholic, not Jewish." The Inspector sighed. "Doctor Scully, forgive this intemperate observation, but, someone not familiar with your resume might leap to the wrong conclusion about..." Mulder snorted. "She's Mrs. Spooky!" He waved at the Inspector's and Manager's sheer consternation. "I'm not used to all this concern for decorum. Spooky was one of my nicknames from the Bureau. Never mind." He shook his head. "But, as the Doctor is usually all too willing to remind me while we're on cases, we don't have all the facts, so we shouldn't be hasty in our deductions." The Inspector began idly turning pages in his memo pad. "I understand." He passed a card to each of them. "If there is anything else that happens, or you find something missing, please let me know immediately. The number on the bottom is my cel phone." The two agents grinned as he left. The Manager nearly bowed over double once they were alone. "We have never had this sort of unpleasantness here at Hotel Krebs before. If you would like to move to new rooms, I can have the valets help you." He cleared his throat. "If you would like to check out and use a different hotel, there will be no charge for you stay with us. Let me extend my deepest regrets over this unfortunate incident." He began backing away. "I'll leave the three of you to talk this over." Mulder draped his arm across the back of Scully's chair to bring them all closer together. "Well?" Caroline shook her head. "Whatever you two decide. The rooms are clear, and as far as we know, the hotel is safe." Mulder looked over at his partner. "Scully?" Rubbing her forehead wearily, she shrugged. "I'm for staying. This may all have been just a ploy to unsettle us and move us out of here, to somewhere less public, for some reason." Mulder nodded. "I think so. With the locks changed, those keys are useless anyway." They informed an immensely relieved manager, who passed their new keys to them and escorted them to their rooms. --o-0-o-- Room 213 Hotel Krebs Thursday, March 2, 1998 12:24 am Scully lifted the receiver to her ear on the first ring. "Scully." The silence that greeted her had her throwing aside the down comforter until she heard, "You always conclude it's me calling you like this, Doctor?" Chuckling, she slumped back onto the oversized pillows. "A good investigator assumes a suspect of questionable mental stability will continue to follow learned behavior, unless circumstances force him to do otherwise." An amused rumble from deep in his chest resonated over the phone. "Either I should be relieved my partner maintains herself at this high degree of mental alertness, or insulted that she considers me of questionable mental stability. Whichever, I think I'll tell Hans you won't be needing his manly services for the night, Scully." Yawning, she rubbed her face. "Meet you downstairs?" He exhaled. "Yeah. Thanks." --o-0-o-- Looking around for her partner, Scully stepped onto the landing. Chewing a sunflower seed, he emerged from the shadows. "I took pity on you, Doctor. Hans should be waiting for you when you get back upstairs." Tucking her hand through the crook of his arm, she looked her partner over. He was wearing an old pair of jeans and his Oxford sweatshirt and had taken the time to comb his hair, so whatever had him up at two in the morning wasn't a nightmare. They settled on either side of one of the breakfast room tables along the west wall, waving away the night clerk, who, at the Manager's orders, had come in from the office to hover beside them momentarily. Scully thumped her feet onto the third chair at the table, leaving the loose lace on one running shoe dangling, then leaned back against the dark brown wainscotting. "So, Mulder, what's on your mind?" He propped his feet up on the chair with hers. "More questions than answers. I wish your Mom would let us look at the diary of your Father's." He leaned out of the shadows. "I don't mean any of the personal stuff." She nodded. "I agree. I feel like we're being denied the Rosetta Stone, in several ways. But, this has all been so traumatic for her, I don't want to press her on it." She turned to smile slightly at him. "Your Mom's been great, though. We wouldn't be this far without her help." Mulder shrugged. "She's having the time of her life." He grinned back. "I enjoyed today with you two. I kept thinking." He bit his lower lip, then settled back into the shadows. Scully dropped her feet to the floor. "You kept thinking what, Mulder?" She heard the crunch of a hull, then he spoke with slurred speech of a man rolling something on his tongue. "Is this afternoon," he gulped down the seed, "is this afternoon what normal families do?" She reached across the table to grasp his wrist. She whispered as gently as she could. "When the kids aren't squabbling because they can't see, or it's too hot, or someone took the piece of bread Sally wanted to feed the bears with," she rubbed his hand with her thumb, "yes, this afternoon is what normal families do." He drummed his fingers on the table. "It was," the strained murmur fell away to a nearly inaudible puff, "nice." He settled back into the shadows, returning to his usual voice. "Sorry. I still can't come up with a reason as to why someone would be into the notebooks. Especially for those pages. Or whether it's connected to this business with our rooms. Or whether any of it is connected to the Holocaust investigations." Scully pulled back to her side of the table. She let her frustration come through in her tone. "Mulder." He leaned forward, his usual cockiness gone. "You OK, Scully?" In its place, that soft vulnerability he rarely showed covered his features. She appeared in front of him. "Mulder, stand up." Confused, he rose. Scully encircled his waist with her arms, pressing her cheek tightly against his chest. He draped his right arm over her shoulders, then wrapped his left around her ribs, an unaccustomed heaviness slowing his actions. "Scully?" She rubbed his spine. "You'll have more days like this afternoon, Mulder. I promise. Don't lose your faith now." He tucked his chin over her head, finally reciprocating the strength of her embrace. "OK." Scully stepped back. "Take the time to let your intuition work, Mulder. We're all safe, Sam included. I know you'll fit the pieces together. You always do." She draped her arm along his waist, guiding him back to the stairs. "Either that, or I'll come up with something after I exhaust this exquisite male specimen you've found for me." She cocked an eyebrow at his quick downward glance. Suddenly serious, he stepped back to let her ascend first. "There is no Hans, Scully." She shrugged. "Good. I'd hate to have to ask for your help getting rid of him." Mulder focused sharply on her shifting shoulders ahead of him. "Scully?" She twisted to look behind her. "I'd like to get a few more hours sleep tonight." Taking this new information in with a silent O, he nodded. --o-0-o-- Kantonalbank von Bern Bern, Switzerland Thursday, 3:17 pm Mulder pushed through the double entranceway of the bank to join his mother and partner, waiting outside. Each had the signatures they had planned, the previous day, to obtain. "Well," he waved a sheet of paper, "here's mine." He looked over at the white-haired woman. "So, where's a safe place to talk?" Caroline turned back the way they had come. "There's a little cafe up the street. There we'll have enough noise that we can't be eavesdropped on." --o-0-o-- Cafe Linderhof Bern, Switzerland Thursday, 3:26 pm Upon entering the small establishment, Scully appreciated Caroline's choice. The tables were well-lit, but widely spaced. The pastry counter at the back of the dining area attracted a steady stream of customers from the Parliament Building across the street. But, with the efficiency of typical Swiss service, no one customer needed to linger for very long. After Mulder returned with two coffees for him and his partner, and a tea for his mother, they set to work. Caroline held up the exchange note she had just received. "Ah, this is our fellow." She held the slip of paper against the annotated margin in their document folder for the partners to check. Scully nodded. "I think so, Caroline. Mulder?" He propped his chin on his fist. "OK, so, we have him. Now what?" Scully blinked at him. "What do you mean?" Mulder canted his eyes at his mother. "Do we put him under surveillance, watch where he goes until he contacts someone?" Caroline's wave cut through the air impatiently. "Fox, we don't have to do this ourselves, you know." Scully faced the older woman. "So, what do you suggest? We contact Inspector Klaus? Go talk to the Bureau to put a man on him?" Mulder sipped his coffee. "What about Max? Can we get a contact of his up here? Just to keep things honest?" The white-haired woman nodded. "All those things. If this is tied in with the War, Mossad will want to know about it. I presume you can rely on the agents in your field office?" Mulder shrugged. "As much as we can anyone in the Bureau. How much have you told Max?" Caroline stirred cream into her tea, setting the China ringing. "Everything, dear. While you were engaging in your late-night aerobics classes," her lips twitched in amusement when he colored and glanced over at his partner for reassurance, "I was talking to my husband." She sipped her tea before she commented softly. "This isn't a sham of a marriage, like it was before." Staring at his hands, wrapped around the slender crystal carafe, Mulder watched them whiten as he gripped the glass harder. Scully caught the slight tightening of his jaw, so brushed the tips of her fingers over his knuckles. He looked over at her again, setting the swirling emotions he felt aside to thank her silently. Caroline folded her hands in her lap. "That sounds so terrible. Your father and I were happy, with you and Sam, for a few years. You were always loved, always, son." His eyes glistening, he shook his head. "Not that it really matters now, does it, Mom?" She reached across the papers and notes to take his hand. "Of course it matters. There was a good side to your Father, a part of him his work ground away, cruelly and relentlessly. I see that side of him in you, the more time I spend with you. He tried to break away, tried to make it right." Scully leaned back, distancing herself from this private moment as much as she could, but honored that she was, again, here to share in it. Caroline gripped his long fingers even harder. "Don't ever let that side of you go, Fox." He coughed once. "I'll try not to, Mom." The older woman leaned back. "I'm still not entirely certain about Inspector Klaus, though. He's the one variable still not clearly defined." Scully shifted forward on her white cast-iron seat. "Now, there, I think we can provide some assistance from unofficial channels." Mulder looked over at his partner, thanking her again with his eyes for focusing him. "Yeah. Those three monkeys are probably getting fat and lazy on this extended vacation we've given them." He beamed at the auburn-haired woman. "We'll call them from back in the hotel." --o-0-o-- Hotel Krebs / Office of the Lone Gunmen Bern, Switzerland / Alexandria, Virginia Thursday, 7:14 pm / Thursday, 1:14 pm Mulder was sprawled out on his bed, the desk phone on his stomach. He would be meeting Scully and his mother for dinner in a few minutes, but first, the Gunmen. After the third ring, he heard a high-pitched whine, then the line went quiet. "Guys?" "Mulder?" The answering voice was Frohike's. "You still having fun in the sun?" He chuckled. "Long story. We're in Switzerland, checking on a possible fly in the ointment." He tucked one arm behind his head. "Listen, I need you to do me a favor. There's an Inspector Gunther Klaus on the Bern police force I'd like you to check out for me." Frohike growled. "We're not quite as well into the European data bases as we are the American, and Switzerland's tough. It'll cost you. You have anything other than Bern and Gunther Klaus for us to go on?" After moving the black unit to the mattress, Mulder swung his legs off the side of the bed. "Yeah, his middle name's Ulrich. I saw it on his badge." Frohike scratched on a notepad. "OK. Description? It may be an alias." Mulder chewed his lower lip. "Medium height, greying brown hair, cut short. He's not lost much of it. No facial hair or moles of any particular note. Not much to distinguish him, I'm afraid." Frohike snorted. "Well, that only leaves half the male population of Europe to check. We'll see what we can do, but you *owe* us." Mulder smirked. "A tip, Fro." The little man sucked in his breath. "Oh?" At the knock on his door, Mulder, still talking, crossed the room to admit his partner. "Yeah." He met her green-blue eyes. "Chocolate. Swiss chocolate. Buy up all the Lindt bars you can find in DC." He grinned at the crossed arms and tightly pressed lips the woman standing in front of him had assumed. Frohike scribbled again. "Dark or milk?" Mulder mouthed the question to Scully, then held the receiver towards her. Tossing her head, Scully shouted towards the speaker. "Dark!" She glared at her partner, who had the handpiece back up by his ear. Frohike chuckled. "Ooh, Mulder, my man, you like hurling yourself into the jaws of death, don't you?" At the sight of his partner's tapping foot, the brown-haired agent grinned. "Every chance I get. Later." "Right." He set the receiver in place, then turned to Scully. The auburn-haired woman was leaning against the wall. "I presume the guys are looking into it? For a fee?" Mulder nodded. "Of course. It may be a while, though. Mom ready?" He checked down the hall. Caroline was just locking her door. "Your sources all lined up, dear?" Mulder waved his partner out. "Yeah, you could say that." --o-0-o-- Restaurant le Beaujolais Bern, Switzerland Thursday, 8:27 pm After the salads were taken away, Caroline sipped her wine before turning to her son. "Fox, I respect your choice not to indulge in alcoholic beverages, but this cabernet is delightful. I'd forgotten how good the Swiss whites were." She turned to Scully. "Dana, can I interest you in a glass?" She shook her head. "In the military and in law enforcement, you see what alcohol can do to people." Mulder chuckled. "Aw, Scully, don't be such a saint. I've seen you sample a microbrew now and then." Scully felt a flush spread up her face to her ears. "OK. A small taste, then." She sipped politely, then raised both eyebrows. "You're right, this is good. We'll have to take a bottle or two back for Mom." Caroline smiled, then looked over at her son. "So, what kept you so long with the notebooks yesterday? I never did have the chance to ask." Leaning back so the waitress could set the main course in front of each, he shrugged. "We think someone had examined a portion of one repeatedly, but that section is innocuous, meaningless, almost." He glanced at his partner, who had just cracked open a loaf of bread. Scully continued. "It's just manifests for crates containing children's toys." Caroline nodded. "I see. I don't remember this Antonio D'Amato, but there were so many parts of the Group's efforts of which one was kept unaware." Mulder cut into his steak, letting the serrated knife scrape the plate. "I'll be *he* knows." Scully sighed. "He probably does." Caroline's eyes narrowed. "If it were *him*, he'd use something like that for..." She chewed her salmon thoughtfully. Mulder looked over. "He'd what?" Scully cut one of her round white potatoes. "What?" The two agents were now focused on the older woman, waiting. "What?" They chorused. Caroline set her fork on the edge of her plate, tines curving downward. "He'd use something like that to hide a code template. If this Antonio worked as closely with him as you two have led me to believe, he might copy him. You said toys. Just toys?" Scully nodded. "No clothes or books. How would that be significant?" Mulder was biting his lower lip. "Toys, at that time, were usually scaled down versions of adult possessions. What if those toys were used as markers for something else in the documents?" Scully's brow furrowed. "Toy guns standing for real weapons, that sort of thing? But if the crates were all dispersed, then how could someone come along fifty years later to reassemble all the pieces?" Caroline smiled at them both. "I think we'll all be skipping desert tonight, hum?" Mulder looked from one woman to the other. "Is it considered rude in Switzerland to carry-out?" --o-0-o-- Hotel Krebs Bern, Switzerland Friday, April 3, 1998 12:23 am Dropping her glasses to her chest, Caroline rubbed her nose wearily. "Dear. I'm just not as young as I used to be." Mulder, who had been pacing by the window of his mother's room, a stack of printed pages in hand, rushed to her side. "Mom? You OK?" She smiled up at the man bending over her, a hand on each shoulder. "Oh, just tired. I'm not seeing the correlations I expected." Scully had been sitting, legs crossed, on the double bed in the room, running multiple correlations with the data base. "Ah!" She looked to the others. "I think I have it." Mulder flung himself onto the comforter beside her. "What? What is it?" Scully tapped an entry in the manifest. Mulder frowned. "Doll's houses?" Caroline joined the agents, taking a seat on Scully's left. "Not just doll's houses, Fox. Some of these were elaborate miniatures, down to electric lights and working drapery pulls. It was a common hobby in the previous century, recently revived, I believe." Scully nodded. "Mel was always going on about those. We had been thinking that x number of toy guns would stand for y number of real ones, or those Buck Rodgers dolls would represent something about the silver cylinder." She stuck out her chin at her partner. "But that wasn't what interested D'Amato." Rolling onto his back, Mulder covered his face with both hands. "Houses. Reconstructions of historical styles of houses." Caroline shrugged. "I'm not sure I follow you two." Mulder moved his fingers down to his chin to reply. "Antonio built a reconstruction of a Renaissance house for his son, Guiliano, for his tenth birthday. We were almost blown to bits in it last year." Scully nodded. "Even beyond that, Mulder, what caught my attention were the listings of furniture *in* the houses." Mulder rolled back onto his elbows, practically planting himself in his partner's lap in his excitement. "They gave detailed inventories of what was *in* the houses?" He kept himself close to Scully, his ribs and arms pressed against her hip and thigh. Caroline shook her head. "But all that could mean is that the miniatures themselves were valuable." She leaned in front of Scully's knees to meet her son's eyes. "Such was often the case." Scully shook her head. "Normally, I'd agree with you, Caroline, but there were several other crates that had dollhouses of similar dimensions and weights, without the detailed inventory." Mulder twisted his legs around until they dangled off the mattress, forcing the two women to look back at him when he spoke. "OK, so it looks like we have the code, only, what does it correlate to? Is it an inventory of the possessions of the families the doll's houses belonged to?" Scully shook her head. "Only partially. Even if there is no intent to conceal, just because these are elaborate miniatures, there will be equivalences. I even correlated the furniture against every other family's possessions, with no luck. Whatever it means, I'm still not seeing it." She yawned. "Maybe after a few hours sleep, my head won't feel like mush." Mulder nodded. "Yeah. OK." He was chewing his lower lip. Caroline stood in front of him. "Fox?" He blinked up at her. "Mom?" She held out her hand. "May I have the key to your room?" Digging it from the hip pocket of his jeans, he passed it to her. "Yeah?" She smiled. "I need to sleep, and from that look, I know you won't be." Scully was shaking her head and holding out her own key. "Caroline, use my room. Please." Mulder looked over at the auburn-haired woman. "Scully! What are you saying?" one cheek creased momentarily. "My room's neater than yours. If your Mom volunteers to give up this soft double mattress, she should at least have somewhere comfortable to sleep." She leaned against his side. "Besides, the maids won't be sneaking into my room." The joke set him nodding, so Caroline, after collecting a few items, left. Mulder smirked at his partner. "Well, now that Mom's gone..." Letting his key swing from the room tag, she shook her head. "See you tomorrow, Mulder." She slid off the mattress to stretch. "Should I leave you the laptop?" He was reading and pacing again. "Yeah, sure. Oh, I packed a bathrobe, you know, in case Mom, um..." Her hand on the door lever, she called back, "Thanks. Night!" He blinked. "Yeah. Night, Scully." --o-0-o-- Room 318 Hotel Krebs Bern, Switzerland Friday, 7:21 am Dana Scully rolled onto her back, wondering why her partner always seemed to be able to claim the more comfortable mattresses for himself, then never use them. She peered over at her watch, draped over the edge of a bedpost. She rolled out from under the comforter, then dialed the room down the hall. Having mistaken her for the Inspector, Caroline answered. "Morgen, Herr Klaus." Scully could only stammer, "Caroline?" She heard that musical laugh in response. "Dana! Glad you're finally up. We may have something here." Her partner's bathrobe wrapped over her wrinkled jeans and sweatshirt, Scully hurried along the carpet to knock on the door at the end of the hall. His hands bulging with flapping pages, Mulder pulled it open. "Morning, Scully." One side of his face twitched, then he let loose a greeting that spoke volumes as to his progress. "You always look so rested wearing my clothes?" She stuck her tongue out slightly, then volleyed back. "Oh? Sounds like you've solved this case and found the lost treasure of the Copper Scroll, too." He stepped aside. "Ooh, that was before your head hit the pillow, Doctor. You must think I'm getting senile." His cocksure grin was infectious. Caroline shook her head at the teasing. "Fox thinks that these houses are actually a map." She tipped her glasses for a moment. Come see." Scully crouched on the floor by the fan of papers. "Map?" Caroline lifted one sheet to pass to her. "I couldn't sleep, Dana, so I came back in here." Mulder bent over his partner. "I'd sketched that map of the US with the cities the houses were going to marked on it. Mom made the connection, I didn't." Caroline flushed slightly. "It reminded me of the way we used to deploy our sentries when we travelled from city to city under cover of darkness. The V in front, the line in the center, the curve at the back. What if that's what this is, the layout for a camp, and the furniture in each dollhouse tells in code what's stored in each location?" Mulder set the laptop on the carpet in front of her. "So, we looked at the furniture in the houses." Scully narrowed her eyes. "I see. Only couches, tables and chairs in the house going to San Francisco, only beds and dressers to Princeton." She looked to Caroline. "I presume you've also worked out what these stand for?" The white-haired woman nodded. "By looking at ratios of things. In the San Francisco house, five couches, twelve chairs, two tables." She scrolled to the crate listings. "Here." She pointed. "Seventy five unidentified pieces of electronics, one hundred and eighty cases of vacuum tubes, thirty crates of casings." Mulder was pacing in front of them. "We thought this material was bound for New Mexico, but why ship so many vacuum tubes? We made those here in the States already." Scully rose. "They were taking them somewhere they didn't expect to be able to find replacements easily." She lifted the laptop to the desk surface, scrolling until she brought up a route map. "Let's see. Everything comes to Italy, bound for the US. On the way, it passes through Sicily, over to Tunis, makes several stops along the North African coast, then through the Strait to the Canary Islands, and finally, off to the US." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I wonder..." She scrolled through the manifests. "This is it, Mulder, look!" Caroline sank onto the bed. "Algiers." Mulder had crossed his arms. "Let me guess. The electronics drop off the manifest lists after Algiers." Scully nodded. "It'll tell us whatever else was significant, too." She looked from one dark-eyed face to the other. "I'll take it from here if you two want to catch up on your sleep?" Caroline shook her head. "We still need to interview our scribbler." She looked over to her son. "Fox? Stay here and rest. You were up all night." He grunted. "No. I'll be fine." --o-0-o-- Kantonalbank von Bern Bern, Switzerland Friday, 10:21 am The three congregated outside the Bank. Scully held out her sheet. "This is the man." Mulder nodded. "Scully, you bring your counter?" She flipped the top of her jacket pocket open long enough for him to spy the grey plastic. "I'll be back." Caroline watched her go. "You think he might be one of your shape- shifters?" He shrugged. "It's possible, but I doubt it. They know what we look like, even if we can't always identify them." He attempted to peer through the stained glass of the doors. "It probably was a shape-shifter that looked through the papers, because it wouldn't make sense for a member of the Consortium to need to examine the actual documents." Scully pushed open the door, nearly striking her partner in the chest with the edge in her haste. One of the Bavarians was with her, sweaty and nervous. Caroline spoke to him gently, using the inflections that she knew would calm him. Wiping his curls off his forehead, he looked up at Mulder. "When I realized who you three were, I knew I needed to speak to you. I can't tell this to anyone for fear of losing my job, but..." Mulder nodded. "You were unconscious for several days, then when you woke up, no one knew you had been missing?" The Bavarian closed his pale blue eyes. "Exactly. I thought I was going crazy. Why would anyone want to impersonate me? I'm just a junior employee; I don't control any large accounts..." Caroline began leading the rest down the street. Scully took the man by the arm, Mulder walking along between their witness and the street. The auburn-haired woman leaned forward. "You hold access numbers for safe deposit boxes?" He nodded. Mulder looked up to spot where his mother was disappearing into the bakery where they had talked yesterday, then held the door for the other two. "That's all the cover they need." Scully waved the clerk forward. "Who needs combinations when you can feel your way in?" The blond man looked from one to the other, then settled warily into a painted chair by Caroline. "Please, tell me what happened, and I'll do anything, outside of steal from my employer, to pay you back." Mulder dismissed the offer with a wave of his hand. "No problem. We aren't interested in your bank. Here's what we think is going on..." --o-0-o-- The clerk leaned back, agape. "Aliens, after government secrets?" He sipped his lager. "Well, normally, I'd discount the whole thing, but after what happened to me, I can't begin to object. What does all this mean?" Her throat dry from explaining, Scully coughed. "We're attempting to work all that out, Sir. We would like you to do us a favor, though." The man nodded. "You'd like me to keep an eye on your boxes for you?" She sighed. "Please. We suspect that they've worked out what they needed them for, but if anything unusual happens, don't get involved, just let one of us know, either through the local Bureau field office, or by calling one of these numbers." She scribbled on the back of her card. "The US number will put you through to friends of ours, who somehow always manage to get messages to us. The other one rings a house in Santorini." The four rose. Mulder extended his hand. "Thanks." After their witness left, he looked down at his partner. "I think this about wraps things up here, don't you?" Scully nodded. "We can work out the significance of the codes in the papers back on Santorini as well as we can here." Caroline was shaking her head. "We still have a loose end. Inspector Klaus." Mulder held the door to usher them out. "So, we stop by the office and tell him not to pursue the matter further." The white-haired woman narrowed her eyes at him. "If you think that's good enough, Fox." Mulder cocked his head. "You don't, Mom?" She waited. "No, I'd like to wait until your sources come back to us with an all-clear. I don't like unfinished business." Mulder looked to his partner. "Scully?" When a sudden gust of wind ruffled their coats, she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I think Caroline's right, Mulder. We need to know who we're dealing with." She shrugged. "Besides, Klaus may have more information for us on the European groups of the Consortium." --o-0-o-- Room 318 Hotel Krebs / Office of the Lone Gunmen Bern, Switzerland / Alexandria, Virginia Friday, 8:32 pm / Friday, 2:32 pm After dinner, the three had congregated in Caroline's room, reviewing the papers according to the codes they had deduced. When the phone rang once, Scully reached over to answer it. The man on the other end cleared his throat. Scully looked over at her partner, who was draped across the mattress, drawing lines across a map of Africa they had picked up. "Hey, Frohike, you found out about Inspector Klaus yet?" Mulder's lopsided grin creased his cheek. Scully listened seriously. "OK, good. He's legit, then. Listen, we have another request for you." Frohike sighed. "For you, Agent Scully, anything." She frowned at his flat tone. "You all right?" He rubbed his face. "Yes. And No. Byers just learned that Vicky's plane went down over Somalia. It's been located, and there are survivors, but there are also fatalities. It's all he knows." Scully pulled herself onto her knees. "I'm sorry to hear that." Mulder and his mother, seated at the desk, both moved over to converge on her. Scully bent over the phone. "Listen, we can get to the information we want a different way. Byers needs you." Frohike nodded. "You'll call Pendrell?" She rubbed the back of her neck. "For starters. We can surf the Net back on Santorini, too. Look, likely as not we'll be in Algiers soon. We could detour to Somalia if we need to." She heard the phone change hands. "Byers?" The bearded Gunman sighed. "Yes?" She repeated her offer. He coughed several times. "Once I find out whether it's worth the effort, I'd appreciate it. You're Bureau, with no apparent personal connections, so they'd let you by. State frowns on family members flying into the scene of a crisis." Scully propped herself against the side of the bed. "Whatever, just let us know." She replaced the receiver, deeply sobered. Mulder crouched beside her. "What." When she told him, he rubbed his face with both hands. "Jeez. What next." Caroline had the phone in her lap when she spoke. "Let me call back to Santorini. We can be out of here tomorrow morning. I presume that's what you want?" The agents nodded. Mulder looked around the sparely furnished space. "You know, this is the first time I've noticed that this place doesn't have a TV in each room." Scully shrugged. "Downstairs." --o-0-o-- Mulder had been prowling the breakfast room for several minutes, waiting for the next news update. Scully, noting that their hand- wringing proprietor had peeked through the connecting door yet again, stood and blocked her partner's path. As she reached for his arm, he pulled away, too agitated for any human contact. Frustrated, Scully closed her eyes. "Mulder." The call was issued in her deepest and most gravelly contralto. The under currents in her tone brought his eyes to her face, but they were unfocused, dilated. "Yeah?" She took a step towards him. Although his reply was flat with frustration, she sensed resignation underneath, not the pure fury of a few moments earlier. "We should go back upstairs. Your Mom should be off the phone and have arrangements made." Nodding blankly, he followed her up the stairs. "Do you know any way to get computer updates from here?" She shrugged. "I have an ancient CompuServe account, but I thought that was bought out. I'll try dialing in to see if it works. This," she waved at the dark wood around them, "was charming, but we need to get back to the twenty-first century." Caroline met them at the top of the stairs. "We have flights out tomorrow morning that will have us in Santorini by three." She slid her glasses off her nose, focusing on her son. "If you really want updates, perhaps you should check with Inspector Klaus tomorrow morning. He should have access to lines outside the city." Mulder reached for her elbow. "You coming?" Caroline shook her head. "No. I'd like to pack and rest a little. I could work long hours like this when I was younger, but not anymore. You two go on." Mulder shifted closer to the white-haired woman. Caroline set her lips firmly. "Fox, I'll be fine. Let me know what you find out." She turned to unlock her room. Scully stretched out her hand. "Let's go, Mulder. She means it." Nodding, Mulder followed his partner down the stairs. --o-0-o-- Police Station Bern, Switzerland Saturday, April 4, 1997 8:14 am After ascending the long limestone stairway to the entrance to the Medieval building, Mulder pulled the door open for his partner. "Let's hope he's in, not on the equivalent of a beat, or whatever it is one checks for here in Bern." Scully was already at the receptionist's desk. "Wo ist Herr Klaus?" The tiny black-haired woman pointed to a desk in the far corner. As they approached, the Inspector hung up his phone and rose. "Agent Scully, Agent Mulder!" He extended his hand, beaming at them both. At his call, the other detectives around the open room assumed the busy air of co-workers who were eavesdropping without being too obvious about it. Scully tucked her chin, suspecting that their Inspector was showing off, just a little, for his colleagues. She shook the roughened hand. "Inspector Klaus." After a quick glance back at her partner, who had surveyed the room with twinkling eyes, she stood in front of the battered wooden desk. "We need your help on a matter of some urgency." If the room had been subdued before, it fell utterly silent now. Klaus smoothed his tie. "Anything, Agent Scully." She settled into the chair by the desk's end. "We need access to your embassy in Somalia." The little man rose, guiding them towards a well-lit corridor. "This way, please." When they disappeared around a corner in the hallway, the room behind them began to buzz with hushed whispers of excitement. Mulder glanced down at Scully, pleased that his partner's direct appeal had produced the desired effect. He knew Klaus would spare no effort to impress these foreign agents, only if just so he could bask in the new-found respect his colleagues would now award him. Scully maintained her focus on the dark-suited officer's back, continuing to play her role as the serious agent. She knew from the sounds behind her that despite her partner's suspicions, this Inspector was the genuine article, not a plant by some shadowy organization or a shape-shifter replacement. She glanced up at Mulder, surprised he was regarding her with twinkling eyes. She cocked an eyebrow in response, watching his lips twitch, but not spread into his usual grin. Their contact was standing by one of several identical doors, his hand on a brass knob. "We can discuss this in here. The distraction," a light shone from his eyes briefly, "would be an unnecessary interruption to our schedules." Mulder waited for his partner to enter. "Oh, we seem to specialize in interruptions." Klaus gently pressed the thick glass-paneled door into its dark wood frame, silently engaging the latch. "How could the Swiss embassy help you when the American couldn't?" Mulder had been pacing by the inner wall. "There's a plane-full of State Department employees that has crashed. We have a friend on board. The State Department won't release any information. We were hoping you would know someone, who knew someone, who could pry details out of the people down there..." Klaus nodded. "Let me make some calls." --o-0-o-- Government Office Building Bonn, Germany Saturday, 10:24 am "How close is the wreckage to sensitive areas?" The Italian representative looked from one sagging face in the room to another, until he had made eye contact with each man in the room, save one. A Bavarian, his face lined, but still young, was making his way towards the door. "Excuse me, but I have been instructed to extend my Minister's sympathies to the officials in the American Embassy. He is infatuated with the idea of Bill Clinton's 'personal touch' and wishes to emulate it." The French representative waved towards him idly before commenting to the others. "Perhaps one day we will no longer need cover jobs to hinder us in our true work." The Bavarian closed the door behind him with a sigh. Somehow, the bugs planted in the rooms of the three Americans had remained undetected and the men behind him were buzzing at the prospect of other shape-shifters to be intercepted. But there was someone he needed to contact, to warn of impending trouble. He wound his way through the corridors, down the elevator, and across the parking lot to his Mercedes. --o-0-o-- The journey on the Autobahn had taken forty-five minutes, during which time repeated calls to a dark office had gone unanswered. Finally, he eased the brown sedan into a parking space by the door and hurried downstairs. He rapped just below the nameplate labelled 'C. Knox', but no footfalls sounded within. Desperate, he reached for his spare key, then pushed the door aside. The desk was bare, as were the bookshelves and filing cabinets. Locking the door again, he trotted back to his vehicle, already plotting the quickest route to his destination. --o-0-o-- Room 318 Hotel Krebs Bern, Switzerland Saturday, 10:54 am Mulder was sprawled on the bed, the desk phone on his stomach, while Scully watched. He had dialed through to the Gunmen, but was waiting for a response. Finally, on the tenth ring, there was a crash, then a click. "Office of the Lone Gunmen." Mulder crossed his legs at the ankles. "Hey, Langly, you guys heard anything new?" He heard a sigh. "Nope. No one's talking, Mulder. You?" The dark-haired agent arched both eyebrows. "Yeah. The most voluble and ingenious Inspector Klaus. All the fatalities were men, if that helps. There were three women on the plane, all of whom were helicoptered to a military hospital." He waited while the details were related in a hushed whisper, then there was static as the phone changed hands. "Mulder?" The tall agent pulled himself upright. "Byers, you holding up?" "Yeah. Thanks. I've tried calling her office, but not even the secretaries will tell me anything. This is better than looking at smoking wreckage on CNN." Mulder rubbed his eyes. "It'll be OK." "Yeah." The response was more somber than Mulder had anticipated, so he looked over at his partner. "You want to talk to Scully?" "No." Mulder nodded when he saw Scully tapping her watch. "It's what, five in the morning over there? Get some rest, Byers." --o-0-o-- Lowenberg Residence Santorini, Greece Sunday, April 6, 1998 2:34 pm Max held the door while the partners and Caroline entered. "Good to have you all back." Caroline stared up at her husband. "Max, what's wrong?" His eyes flicked towards the study. "We have a guest." Scully froze. "A guest? You mean the mayor?" Max shook his head. "Not at all. Your Mother is doing her best to entertain him." Mulder knelt, reaching in his bag for his Sig. "Who is it?" Max led them to the study. "Someone with whom we are all familiar." He waved them through. A lean, bearded African American sat on the couch across from Margaret Scully, who was nervously attempting to initiate a conversation. The glowering man simply ignored her disconnected words and fragments of sentences, fingering the Smith and Wesson on the cushions beside him. Saunders spoke without looking towards the entrance. "Welcome back, Mulder, Scully." He pointed his weapon towards the dark- haired woman across from him. "Have a seat." The four dispersed themselves around the room, all ill at ease with this new twist in the situation. Saunders looked to Mulder. "You should leave the plane crash investigation alone. Sneaking around through diplomatic channels does your cause no good whatsoever." Mulder crossed his arms. "We have a friend on that plane." Saunders shook his head. "No, you don't." Scully clenched her fists. "How can you say that? Don't you remember who looked out for you when you were in your coma? Byer's wife was on that plane. How can you be so ungrateful?" Saunders glared at her, his face rigid. "Victoria Byers never took that flight." At the sound of the latch in the glass double doors rattling, all but X looked over. The woman in the doorway possessed an air of faded elegance, her wavy brown hair held at the nape of her neck by a gleaming silver barrette, its center adorned with a single turquoise stone. She glided, rather than walked, in an elegant pair of soft tan pumps, to the center of the room where she stood by Saunders. Scully noted the delicate fingers, the short nails filed to perfect roundness and protected by clear polish, unlike her own, forever chipping at a keyboard or performing an autopsy. Although mature, the woman had remained slender, her face barely lined, comfortable in her lightweight natural linen suit and pale gold silk blouse set off by a triple strand of pearls. The agent mused that if the woman were older, she would resemble Caroline Lowenberg in face and build. "I caught her at the last minute and kept her off the flight, but not off the passenger list, unfortunately." The woman pointed to the African-American, but was looking over at Mulder. "We have some unfinished business, courtesy of William Mulder, the man who taught me everything I know, and who is dearer to me than my very soul." --o-0-o-- End - Zurvan - City of Bears