Title: IMPULSE (1/1)
Author: aka "Jake"
Rating: R (language, violence)
Classification: X (X-File) 
Spoilers: Kill Switch, Arcadia, Detour, Pusher, The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas (most are VERY vague references)
Summary: Mulder and Scully go undercover to find out who -- or what -- is killing the clients of Allegheny Mountain Adventure Tours, a West Virginia company offering an extraordinary vacation experience for the serious sensation seeker. "That's a lot more chills than thrills, Scully." 

Disclaimer: The characters Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and Walter Skinner are the property of Chris Carter, FOX and 1013 Productions. No copyright infringement intended. This is for fun, not profit.

IMPULSE
by aka "Jake"
_______________

New River Gorge, Pendleton County, West Virginia
11:32 AM

Becca Crowley monitored the climbers' progress from her position at the base of Seneca Rock. Grade V, easy aid, and a significant overhang, she thought as Jess led three neophytes, one at a time, up the cliff's face. Jess had plenty of wall experience; he cruised this route several times a season. Already halfway up the second pitch with the third man following, they hung more than 550 feet above the New River Gorge. Higher up, two enthusiastic first-time climbers waited on a wide ledge at the belay station. 

The weather was perfect. No wind, but comfortably cool for the climb. Becca wished she was going up today, too, but AMAT insisted that one employee stay on the ground in case of an emergency. Something about insurance costs. 

Even at this distance, Becca could hear Jess calling instructions to the inexperienced man below him.

"Hey, Dude, lockoff on that gerry rail to your left. Watch the munge, man. The fall's a screamer. That's it -- stick it. Gravical, huh?"

Becca wondered how much of Jess's climb-speak the novice understood. But the man seemed to be doing fine, somehow managing to follow Jess's advice.

"No. NO!" Jess suddenly shouted, startling Becca on the ground. 

She lifted her binoculars. 

"Dude, DON'T!" Jess screamed.

The beginner had cut the line from his harness and he now dangled from the rope by only his bare hands. To Becca's astonishment, he then pushed himself out and away from the face of the cliff with his feet. He maintained his hold on the rope as he swung back to the rock, then out over the gorge again. The steep overhang gave him plenty of room to build up momentum and increase his distance.

"Damn it, Dude. Stop it!" Jess yelled. 

The man swung away from the mountain again. Out over the gorge. He let go of the line! He plummeted downward, arms spread wide, just missing the headwall. He fell at a startling speed. Feet first, he plunged into the boulders at the base of the cliff.

Becca fought to keep her breakfast in her stomach at the sound of the impact. Certain the man was dead, she ran to him anyway. 

Her legs went numb at the sight of his body, limp and broken on a pile of blood splattered rocks. She knelt beside him. Checked his pulse with a trembling hand. When she pressed her fingers to his neck, a spark of static traveled from his body to hers. 

Lifting her eyes to the summit of Seneca Rock, Becca slowly smiled.

_______________

Secaucus, New Jersey
Two days later

"You're bored," Scully said.

"Yes, I'm bored. Of course I'm bored. Who wouldn't be?" Mulder sat in the driver's seat of their rental car and cracked another sunflower seed between his teeth. Rolling the kernel across his tongue, he spit the empty shell out the open window. Sweat inched from his hairline down his neck into his open shirt collar. His unknotted tie dangled loosely around his neck and his shirt stuck to his back and chest. Hotter than hell, he had tossed his suit coat into the back seat earlier and rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, hoping for a cooling breeze, which never materialized. "What are we doing here, Scully?" he asked, not proud of how petulant he sounded.

"You know what we're doing here. We're surveilling." Scully looked equally overheated, slouched in the passenger seat, her eyes locked on the building across the street.

"Surveilling who? I'm telling you, Joseph 'The Hammer' Scarcelli isn't here. He hasn't been here for days and he won't be coming back. Ever. We're watching an empty house."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Oh, what I wouldn't give for a Christmas Eve ghost or two right now." He plucked another seed from the dwindling pile on the dash. "Don't you want to be doing something, Scully?" he all but whined.

"We *are* doing something, Mulder. We're following orders. Does every minute of every day have to be spent risking our lives pursuing paranormal hobgoblins?" She squinted through the windshield.

The July sun glared off the car's polished hood. Waves of heat rippled the air above the softening pavement.

"'Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all,'" he quoted. 

"Helen Keller?"

"Very good, Scully." He popped another seed into his mouth.

"Mulder, I don't think Helen Keller was referring to chasing ghosts, phantoms or demons."

"Well, she certainly wasn't talking about dying in a rented Ford while watching an empty house."

"Are we dying, Mulder?"

"Oh, we most certainly are. Of heatstroke...if the boredom doesn't kill us first." He swabbed a sleeve across his sweat-streaked jaw.

"Okay, Mulder. What would you be doing right now if you could be doing anything you wanted?"

"Anything?" He felt his interest piqued for the first time since mid-morning.

"Anything within the realm of human possibility."

"So much for my Superman/Lois Lane Mile High Club fantasy."

"We will assume you possess only normal human abilities."

"Hmm. If I could be doing any 'normal human' thing I wanted, I'm thinking I would be in the Himalayan Mountains searching the Menlung Glacier for the Yeti."

Scully turned to stare at him.

"Bigfoot?"

"No, actually the Yeti is believed to have feet only six to seven inches long by four inches wide." He glanced down at her small shoes, mentally calculating their size.

"Have you ever been mountain climbing, Mulder?"

"Not exactly. But how hard can it be? Anyway, it'd have to be a hell of a lot more exciting -- not to mention cooler -- than sitting here." He spit another empty hull out the window. "So tell me, Scully, what would you be doing if you could do anything you wanted right now? I'll even allow inhuman activities if you like."

"I wouldn't be dangling from a cliff in Tibet, that's for certain. Let's see. If I could be doing anything..." She pursed her brightly lipsticked mouth to consider. 

He watched her concentrate, curious to hear her heart's desire. 

"I think I'd be at a health spa. You know, getting a massage, receiving head-to-toe pampering." 

"Ugh, Scully. Sitting up to your neck in mud and eating nothing but soy curd and yogurt byproducts? Where's your sense of adventure? I hate to say this, but sometimes you can be such a girl."

Scully's eyebrow lifted. "Just because I *occasionally* like to relax, doesn't mean I'm not adventurous. Risk-taking and thrill seeking is not gender specific. What about Margaret Mead, Amelia Earhart, Christa McAuliffe?"

"There are always exceptions, but *most* T-types possess Y-chromosomes."

"That's bull, Mulder. There may be a genetic explanation for an individual's desire to seek thrills -- an association between the dopamine receptor gene and the human personality trait identified as 'Novelty Seeking' -- but it is not linked to the male Y chromosome. Risk taking is popular with both genders. There are plenty of women who enthusiastically engage in high-risk lines of work like firefighting, the military...*law enforcement*. Not to mention other 'girlie' activities like skydiving, auto racing or even mountain climbing. Tell me, please, exactly what has happened to that 'man of the nineties' who used to be my partner?"

"That wimp? He got in touch with his feminine side and went to a health spa. But hey, if you really want that massage..." He grinned and flexed his fingers at her.

The muffled trill of his cell phone postponed her reply.

"Hold that thought, Scully." He smiled and snaked a long arm between their seats, hooking his crumpled suit coat from the back, and retrieved his cell phone from the pocket.

"Mulder," he identified himself. 

His grin widened as he listened to Skinner outline the details of a new case. This day just got a hell of a lot more interesting. They were being called out on an X-File. 
 
_______________

New River Diner
Lewisburg, West Virginia
12:15 PM

"Man, I can't believe you guys were right there when the dude cratered." 

"You shoulda seen him, Jax. That poor gumbie grounded hard." Jess stabbed a French fry into the puddle of catsup on his plate to demonstrate the force of impact. 

Jackson Miller stared with fascination as the catsup splattered across the formica tabletop.

"So what happened? Why'd he do it?" Jackson shifted his gaze to Becca who fidgeted in the booth's corner. Her fingers drummed furiously on the rim of her plate. Lips pressed into a frown, she shook her head and gazed out the window.

"He must've been seriously messed up," Jess said. "Before the whipper, I mean."

"Maybe he was pumped. I remember being pumped so bad after a blast in Yosemite, holding a beer was a major challenge." Jackson laughed at the memory.

"Nah. There wasn't enough finger work at Seneca to overwork the forearms. Even for a newbie." Jess bit into his burger. "He wasn't gripped either, man. Didn't appear scared at all. To be honest, he looked kind of, ya' know, calm. He stared right at me, Jax -- right into my eyes -- and then he just let go. I'm telling you, he was cloud-nining."

"Maybe he was on some serious shit. Flyin' high. What do you think, Beck?" 

"I think if he signed up for a major adrenaline rush, he got what he paid for. If you guys don't mind, I'd just as soon talk about something else." 

"Okay. Whatever you say." Jackson stuffed a long French fry into his mouth. Not waiting to swallow, he blurted, "Hey, did I tell you guys, Toad and I are taking a group to the caves tomorrow?" 

"Really? Where you going?" Becca asked, finally showing interest in the conversation. She stopped the nervous thrumming of her fingers and gave Jackson's arm a friendly squeeze. 

He flinched when a spark of static stung his skin beneath her palm.

_______________

Monongahela Motor Lodge
Lewisburg, West Virginia
8:15 PM

"Why are we sharing a room, Mulder? It's not as if the U.S. Government can't spring for an additional $19.95." Scully tossed her bag onto the hotel dresser. The room was small and overly warm, the air stale and musty. "Would you mind opening that window?" 

"We're sharing a room because you're my undercover wife." Setting his duffle on the bed, Mulder lifted a corner of the worn comfortor and waggled his eyebrows. "Get it? Undercover? Under cover?"

"I get it. So *why* are we sharing a room?"

"Seriously. We're undercover...man and wife. Husband and wife...er...wife and husband, whatever. I was thinking it would be the best way to investigate this case." He gave the window's lower sash an unsuccessful tug upward.

Scully rummaged through suitcase for her toiletry bag. "And what would be the problem with the direct approach, say...walking into the office of Allegheny Mountain Adventure Tours and showing them our badges?" 

"You don't want to go on an Adventure Tour?" He turned from the still-closed window to look at her. 

She crossed the room to the bathroom, toiletries in hand. "Obviously, you do." 

"I'll sleep in the chair, Scully, if that's what's bothering you."

"Don't be ridiculous," she called to him from behind the bathroom door. "I'm choosing our names, don't forget."

Mulder gave the window another concentrated pull and it flew open, crashing loudly against the upper sill. "What?"

"Our undercover names." She leaned around the doorframe and pointed her toothbrush at him. "Remember the Falls at Arcadia? Rob and Laura Petrie?"

"I remember. So, what it'll be? Who are we?" 

"Barnard and Elizabeth." She ducked back into the bathroom while he silently mouthed her choice of names.

He trailed after her. "Why Barnard and Elizabeth?"

"Mulder! Do you mind?" She glowered, her fingers poised on the top button of her trousers. 

He quickly retreated into the bedroom and leaned against the wall. "That would be *Barnard*, not Mulder," he corrected her.

"Barney," she now corrected him.

"Barney? And Elizabe...Betty? Rubble? You can't be serious. That's no better than Rob and Laura Petrie. It's worse, actually."

"Don't worry. I'll pick an anagram for Rubble." 

"I thought you once said you could never be married to Barney Rubble."

"Do you forget nothing?" she asked, emerging from the bathroom. "How about Bruleb for a surname?"

"Oh, well, that's a common name that won't stand out. What nationality would Bruleb be, by the way?"

"Russian. In Siberia, it's just like Smith or Jones here."

"Uh huh."

"Hey, it's my choice." She returned her toiletry bag to her suitcase. "We agreed."

"I'm not convinced we did, but in any case, I already signed us in as the Mulders. I must have left Barney Bruleb's credit card in my other pants." 

"Mulder, I saw you pay the guy at the desk with cash. And he never even asked our names. Honestly, for a guy named 'Fox'--"

"Hey, hey, hey. Let's just review the file Skinner faxed to us, shall we? Betty." He fished a sheaf of papers from his duffle.

"That would be Elizabeth, if you expect to get anywhere near that bed tonight." Removing her gun from the small of her back, she checked the clip. She carefully set the weapon on the bureau beside her bag.

File notes in hand, Mulder dropped himself deliberately onto the mattress. "Elizabeth," he said, his voice syrupy sweet.

"Shoes, Mulder."

He shot her an irritated frown before toeing off his shoes and kicking them to the floor. Stacking all of the pillows behind his back, he leaned comfortably into the headboard. 

Scully sat at the nearby table. "Okay, spill it. Give me the case details and don't leave out anything important."

"You make it sound like I've left things out before. On purpose."

"I'd be happy to refresh your--"

"Never mind." He cleared his throat. "Three thrill seekers died in the last month. All were clients of Allegheny Mountain Adventure Tours. AMAT provides 'complete adventure packages for people looking for that extraordinary vacation experience.'" Mulder checked a copy of the AMAT brochure, included in Skinner's fax. "Prices range from $399 to $1299, depending on the activity."

"I guess living on the edge isn't cheap. But Mulder, it doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility that people might get hurt, even die, while on an extreme adventure."

"I dunno, Scully. AMAT has been in business for eight years. They've provided 3282 clients with 258 different adventure tours -- and never experienced a single fatality until last month. Jack Dunlap, the owner of AMAT, prides himself on the company's safety precautions and employee training. As a matter of fact, AMAT received a reduction in their insurance rates as a reward for their low incident rate in 1995 and again in 1998," Mulder said, referring to the notes.

"Still...this doesn't smell like an X-File."

"Sniff again, Scully. Carol Thompson of Tampa, Florida, age 42, signed up for an AMAT 4x4 adventure and was killed when her vehicle left the Rubicon/McKinney Road to careen off the side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The car was later hauled out of the canyon, checked thoroughly, and was found to have nothing mechanically wrong."

"I hope you have something more mysterious than that. It's possible she drove off the road on purpose. Do we know anything about her mental state at the time?"

"No, but eight days later, George Wells of Phoenix, Arizona, age 24, was gored to death while running from the bulls at the Oasis Ranch, an AMAT-owned ranch in northwest Arizona. The weird thing is, witnesses claim he stopped running and actually turned to face the bulls. He was impaled through the chest, Scully, not the back."

"So, he had a death wish, committed suicide. And maybe Carol Thompson purposely drove off that cliff, too."

"Two suicides, a week apart?"

"Well, maybe she was distracted in some way and failed to make the turn."

"What, she had a bee in the car or something? Come on, Scully."

"It's possible. It's even likely."

"Okay. Tell me why, two days ago while climbing Seneca Rock right here in West Virginia, Terrance Hughes, age 36, leapt to his death into the New River Gorge, 500 feet below?"

"Leapt?"

"That's what the team leader and the ground woman claimed. Mr. Hughes apparently cut the rope from his harness, swung out over the gorge and jumped. Ker-splaaat." Mulder slapped his hands together, then twisted the heel of his right hand into the palm of his left. 

"Thank you for the visuals, Mulder. You almost make me miss your slide projector."

"I can do shadow puppets." He positioned his hands in front of the table lamp so that a perfect Loch Ness Monster loomed blackly up the wall above the headboard. 

"Mulder, I admit three suicides does push the envelope of coincidence." She ignored his efforts to create a werewolf-shaped shadow. "But I still don't see an X-File here. Did anyone check to find out if a fellow 'adventurer' was present at each death? Or an employee of AMAT?"

"Yes indeed. All the clients were questioned, as were the employees. Not a single person was present at more than one death. Now, want to hear something really interesting?" Mulder gave up on the werewolf and tried an alien's head.

"Always."

"A little research turned up a rather disturbing pattern in the world of thrill seeking. Several other extreme adventure companies offering a full range of adventures, such as ice and mountain climbing, white water rafting, BASE--"

"Base?"

"B.A.S.E. -- building, antenna, span, and earth -- in other words, jumping off a cliff, bridge or other tall structure and praying the parachute opens before it's too late."

"Hm. Anyway, you were saying, several other companies..."

"Several other companies over the past year have experienced a fatality or a string of fatalities, too." Forgoing any more animated shadows, Mulder double-checked Skinner's fax. "One person died in February while on an Outback Adventure. Two more died in April while on Blast Tours. And three died in May and June while on ExtremeQuest Expeditions. That's a lot more chills than thrills, Scully."

"So what's your theory? Another Robert Modell?"

"Maybe. I'm also thinking trans-dimensional beings, mara experiences, astral projections, transmigrations of the soul, OBEs."

"Really? Out of Body Experiences?" she asked, clearly disbelieving the possibility.

"Yes. Like remote viewing, soul travel, bilocation -- we've seen these things before. I'm hoping an extreme adventure of our own will yield a clue or two. If the pattern holds true, we can expect a fourth fatality at AMAT. Whoever or whatever is murdering these people, its desire to kill is escalating. Maybe we can stop it before someone forgets to attach their bungee cord to a bridge."

"What's the connection to thrill seeking?"

"I don't know. Yet. But did *you* know that humans are the only animals that put themselves in peril on purpose, Scully?"

"Leaping off cliffs and facing charging bulls in order to...what...alleviate the monotony of every day life?"

"Only if they're doing surveillance in Secaucus. Otherwise, it's probably more than simple boredom. Depending on past experiences, some people are actually more comfortable when afraid, because the feeling is familiar to them. They pursue novel and stimulating environments because they have a strong positive psychological reaction to situations of risk."

"A positive reaction to fear? Fear is a primitive human emotion -- even an infant has an inherent fear of falling. The body's reaction to stressful stimuli is actually physical. The heart beats faster. Respiration accelerates. Chemical levels fluctuate. Novelty seekers may be trying to achieve a higher level of physiological arousal. A person's reasons for risk-taking could very likely be physical, not psychological."

"Addicted to the adrenaline rush?"

"Or dopamine or some other naturally occurring chemical."

"So the killer could be reacting to a physical demand, or he could be psychotic, or he may simply be bored."

"Or all three. We need to know more about him, Mulder, before we can define his motives."

"Exactly why we're here."

"*Exactly* what is the nature of our little extreme adventure tomorrow?"

"You're going to love this, Scully. We're going spelunking."
 
_______________

Deep Dahlia Cave
Greenbrier County, West Virginia
6:45 AM

Two Jeeps, blazoned with Allegheny Mountain Adventure logos, sat nose to end at a remote turnoff for Deep Dahlia Cave. Mulder, Scully, and their taciturn AMAT driver joined three men waiting beside a second vehicle.

"Good morning," an animated young man welcomed them. "You awake yet? No? Not to worry -- we'll have your adrenaline pumping in no time. Caffeine and other artificial stimulants are unnecessary on an AMAT Extreme Cave Adventure. My name is Jackson Miller and I'll be your guide today. You can call me Jax." Jackson pointed to Mulder and Scully's driver. "My partner is Todd Philp -- a spelunker from way back. He answers to 'Toad.' While Toad unloads our equipment, why don't you all introduce yourselves?" Flashing a friendly smile, Jackson gestured to the man on his right to go first.

"I'm George Chase from Philly."

"Bill Peters. South Charleston."

"A home boy!" Jackson beamed at the man before turning to Scully. "How about you, ma'am?"

"Elizabeth Bruleb. Connecticut." Scully offered the group a smile.

"Whereabouts in Connecticut?" 

"Bedrock," Mulder answered for her. "A nice, old-fashioned kind of place. I'm Barney, by the way. Elizabeth's husband." He smiled and thrust out a hand to Jackson.

"Nice to meet you." Jackson shook Mulder's hand before launching into an obviously well-rehersed spiel about the tour. "We've got a small group today, which is great. The fewer people we have going in, the more time we'll have to explore the caves. Anyone been caving before? No? That's okay. We'll show you everything you need to know. We even plan to feed you." The young guide's announcement brought smiles all around. "Just to give you a little background, there are over 300 limestone caves in Greenbrier County. Each and every one is a surreal subterranean microcosm and, maybe best of all, the caves are a comfortable 55 degrees every day of the year. Today we'll be climbing and crawling our way through Allegheny's Deep Dahlia, located right beneath us. Dahlia is an exciting combination of pits, passages, and underground rooms. As we explore, Toad and I will be helping you along, going over techniques and safety instructions. We don't want anyone getting hurt today."

"I understand there was an accident on an AMAT tour a couple of days ago," Mulder fished for information. 

"Where did you hear that?" 

"Liz and I were vacationing over in New River Gorge. We heard about it on the local news. A guy named Hughes fell to his death from Seneca Mountain."

"A very unfortunate accident. We have no intention of repeating that tragedy here today. With the proper safety--" 

"That actually wasn't AMAT's first accident, was it?" Mulder asked. 

"You aren't a reporter or a lawyer, are you Mr. Bruleb?" Jackson laughed, brushing off Mulder's question. "Why don't you all take a few minutes to relax while Toad and I sort our gear? Then we'll get started." He turned his back on the group and Mulder's prying. 
 
Mulder shrugged and wandered over to the cave's entrance while Jackson and Toad busied themselves double-checking the group's equipment and supplies. The cavern's opening was well hidden. Marked only by a fixed climber's anchor, the narrow, rocky fissure split the hillside and allowed scant passage to the tunnel below. With a waggle of two fingers, he signaled Scully to join him.

"Check this out, Scully." He stuck his head inside the hollow. "Baambaaam?" His voice echoed through the blackness. 

"If you call me Scully one more time, people are going to wonder who we really are."

"Oops. Sorry. Elizabeth. Honey." Withdrawing from the crevice, he turned to playfully twist a strand of her hair around his finger. "So tell me, Sweet Cake, why did you sleep alllll the way over on the edge of the bed last night?"

"Why were you wrapped around me like an ace bandage when I woke up?"

"You were hogging the blankets. I was cold." With an exaggerated shiver, he folded his arms around her.

"Uh-huh. You felt pretty warm to me. Hey, they're ready for us. Pay attention." She shrugged out of his arms to rejoin the group. 

Toad was distributing headgear while Jackson issued more instructions. 

"Okay, everybody. We've got your gear for you, starting at the top." Jackson strapped on a hardhat. "The helmets are fitted with lamps and battery packs. You clip the packs to your belts. Keep your helmets on and fastened at all times. I know they're a bit awkward, but they'll protect you from falling debris during the rappels, as well as any sharp formations throughout our journey."

"Was Mr. Hughes wearing a helmet like this when he 'fell'?" Mulder held up the headgear.

"Uh...no, actually. These are underground helmets. Rest assured, they meet all the current government safety standards." Jackson's friendly smile faded a bit.

"Oh, I feel safer knowing that." Mulder slipped on his helmet and adjusted the chinstrap. "How do I look, honey-bunch?" He smiled at Scully.

"Like a guy about to explore a hole in the ground."

"Yabba-dabba-do."

Jackson and Toad passed rappelling harnesses to each member of the group.

"Our expedition begins with a forty-five foot vertical descent onto a small platform below. We'll rappel the tunnel using these." Jackson held out a harness. "Put your legs through the groin loops, then buckle the harness firmly around your waist -- like so." He demonstrated before helping the others correctly don their own harnesses. "Toad will go first, making sure the way is clear for the haul bag...and for all of you." 

Jackson handed Toad a three-foot loop of nylon strapping. Toad deftly twisted it into a figure eight before slipping his arms through, crossing the straps in the back between his shoulder blades. He then inserted a final section of strapping through the rappelling harness at his waist and pulled the nylon up under the front loops of the straps, securing it with a carabinger.

"The first rappel will not be our deepest or our most dangerous today," Jackson informed the group. "The shaft is fairly direct here and our descent should be quite straightforward. The really exciting stuff will come later. You set, Toad?" 

Toad nodded and clipped a figure-eight rappelling device to the carabinger. He then threaded the long descent rope through the figure eight and tied off at the anchor embedded in the rock next to the cave's narrow entrance. "See you below." He smiled shyly before he disappeared into the hole.

Only a few minutes later, the group heard Toad yell "off belay" from the bottom of the shaft.

"I'm sending down the haul," Jackson called down to him, and lowered a carrier containing food, water, a first aid kit, and additional climbing gear into the hole.

"Got it," Toad yelled from below. 

"Who would like to go next?" Jackson asked the group.

"Ooo, pick me," Mulder volunteered. 

He stepped forward and Jackson helped him arrange the necessary strapping around his shoulders. 

"You ever rappelled before? We wouldn't want you to have an accident." Jackson winked.

"Sure. Army Reserves," Mulder lied. His FBI training was actually from the top of a building, not down a hole, but he figured a rappel was a rappel.

"Good. You know what to do then. Go for it." 

Mulder ducked through the fissure and perched on the lip for a moment, weighting the anchor. The light from his helmet didn't penetrate to the base of the shaft, but he could see Toad's lamp glowing forty feet below. Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the edge of the opening and slid smoothly down the rope. 

"Good rap, dude," Toad complimented him at the bottom. He helped Mulder disconnect the kernmantle.

Scully soon joined them on the platform, looking jubilant.

"I'd forgotten how much fun that can be." She grinned at Mulder. 

It took a little longer for George Chase to arrive. He had no rappelling experience and required a bit of instruction at the top before attempting the descent. Although not very graceful, he managed to make it to the bottom of the shaft without incident. 

"Oh, that was incredible! Just incredible!" he said, clearly nervous but excited. 

The platform became quite crowded when all six of them finally stood together in the cave. The lights from their helmets bobbed across damp walls as they inspected their surroundings.

"Everybody doin' okay?" Jackson asked. "Good. 'Cause this is just the beginning. Deep Dahlia is one of the longest caves in the U.S. with over 40 miles of mapped passageways. Expect to get covered from head to toe in mud today. Water runs through many of the passages and we've got some tight squeezes to crawl through. From here, we're going to enter a medium crawl hole into an area where we will slide down a dirt embankment into our first small chamber, called the Soda Fountain, so named because the ceiling is covered with hundreds of formations called soda straws. These are very old formations and in order to preserve them, we ask you not to touch. Toad?"

Toad again led the way, getting down on hands and knees to crawl through the low tunnel. He fished the haul bag after him, and then the others followed. 

The size of the tunnel was limited but not tight, with a diameter of about three and a half to four feet. No more than fifteen feet long, the passage gradually opened onto a steep, muddy slope. There was no way to cross the slope without getting dirty, so the group slid down the embankment like a bunch of kids, joking and hooting the entire way. 

Mulder helped Scully to her to her feet at the bottom. "Looks like you got that mud bath after all. Think Toad brought any tofu flavored yogurt byproducts in our lunch bag?" 

She ignored his joke and inspected their surroundings. 

They stood in a large underground room. Calcium carbonate deposits dripped from the ceiling, forming long, hollow straws, many more than eight feet in length. Calcite flowstone appeared to ooze down the walls. Rimstone dams created asymmetrical pattern of circles on the floor. And high above the chamber, a large cavity in the roof swarmed with hundreds of bats. The air held the syrupy smell of guano.

"This way," Jax directed.

They crossed to the far end of the chamber. One at a time they filed into the next slender passage. Several yards in, the ceiling dropped and they found themselves once more on hands and knees.

"This is gonna get tight," Toad warned from the front of the line. He dropped to his belly when the height of the tunnel shrank to just over a foot. 

Behind Toad, Scully easily squirmed through the narrow passage, outdistancing the larger men behind her. Mulder soon emerged on the broad ledge behind her. It overlooked a yawning crevasse. 

"How deep is it?" Scully asked, her voice falling into the seemingly bottomless well.

"A hundred and eighty feet," Toad said. 

"Have you been down there before?"

"Lotsa times. It's gravical."

"Gravical?" she asked.

"Uh...you know, gives you an adrenaline rush, like when there's a lot of air between you and the ground. You can feel it on a mountain, too, but there's something really awesome about doin' it in the dark."

"We still talking about spelunking?" Mulder asked.

"Of course, dude, and the best is still ahead."

Mulder peered into the chasm. He could see nothing beyond the limited beam of his headlamp. 

A few minutes later, the entire group was assembled at the edge of the deep shaft.

"The next part of our journey is guaranteed to be the thrill of your life," Jackson said, jittery with excitement. "This rappel is comprised of two parts. We have fixed pro in place, so we don't need to take time to set any anchors. The first runout -- that's the distance between the pro -- is forty feet. The tunnel gets narrow -- not much wider than your shoulders at the end of the runout -- and the entire first pitch is set at about 60 degrees from horizontal. Make sure you adjust your harnesses before you head down because there's no room to maneuver if the straps become uncomfortable once you've reached the narrow section. At the end of the runout, there is a ledge you can stand on before the second rappel. Stay to the left on the lower section. You want to avoid a four-foot overhang that could be potentially dangerous. You'll find the hazard almost at the bottom, so slow down as you come to the end. The entire second rappel is about 140 feet and it's an awesome ride. There're no footholds and it's almost a straight drop. In the dark, you're practically blind. You'll never experience a greater rush, I promise." Jackson's grinned, clearly eager to experience the most difficult part of the day's exploration. "Toad, you lead the way. Elizabeth, if you don't mind, you follow Toad. Then George, Barney, Bill, and me. Okay? Any questions? If not, let's do it!"

Toad placed his feet on the edge of the cliff at shoulder width and leaned back into his harness. In a full sitting position with his legs straight out in front of him, he began his descent.

"Be careful," he warned. "Rocks are wet. Kind of slippery." 

They waited while he descended to the first ledge forty feet below. 

"Off belay," he yelled at last.

"You're next, Elizabeth," Jackson said.

Scully imitated Toad's earlier stance on the lip of the shaft. She leaned into her harness. Offering Mulder a smile, she disappeared over the edge. 

"She's got nerve," Jackson said to Mulder. 

"That she does." 

Again, the topside group waited for word from below. 

"Off belay," Scully finally shouted.

"Okay, George. You ready?" Jackson asked the nervous man.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." George Chase laughed uneasily and positioned himself at the cliff's edge. A sheen of sweat slicked his brow and upper lip. His hands trembled as he straightened the straps of his harness, untwisting the loops around his shoulders. 

"Here, let me help you," Jackson offered, folding the nylon flat. An arc of static electricity snapped between the two men. "Ouch!" Jackson yelped as the spark jumped from his fingertips to George's arm. "Sorry about that. You okay?" he asked with an apologetic laugh, shaking the sting from his hand.

"Yeah. I'm fine." The worried expression had faded from George's face. He suddenly looked eager to make the descent. 

Mulder couldn't help but notice the change. He watched George back enthusiastically over the edge of the shaft. 

"Bomb's away!" George chuckled and disappeared.

*         *          *

Toad and Scully squatted at the base of the cavern, waiting for the others.

"You've done this before." Toad gestured at the rock face.

"Not in a cave. ROTC," she lied. "I did some rappelling off three- and four-story buildings. It was fun."

"Is that where you met your husband?"

"No...uh...we met at an AMA conference. He's a psychologist."

"And you? You a shrink, too?"

"No. A doctor. I--" Before she could continue, a hardhat fell with a clatter from the tunnel above and bounced several times before it settled on the ground between them. The helmet was followed by a shower of dust and small stones. A series of noisy thumps brought them both quickly to their feet. With a sickening thud, George Chase spilled down the long wet wall to crash limply on the rocky ledge.  

"Shit!" Toad knelt beside the unconscious man. Blood pooled darkly beneath George's head. Toad shot Scully a panicked look before feeling for a pulse. A bluish light sparked around the guide's hand where he held the man's wrist. "I...I think he's dead."

Scully pressed her fingers into George's neck, double-checking for a pulse. When she pulled away, grayish brain matter clung to her fingers. She bent to inspect the large wound at the side of the dead man's head. A deep split ran through his hair, skin, and bone, exposing the contents of his skull. Bony fragments floated in the blood; brains oozed from the lesion.

"Should I start CPR?" Toad asked.

"No. There's no point. Do you have a radio?"

"Yes."

"You'd better call the NCRC. We'll need an evac team." 

 
_______________

Deep Dahlia Cave
Greenbrier County, West Virginia
6:45 PM

Mulder sat on a outcropping next to Scully about twenty yards from the entrance to Deep Dahlia. Together they watched the National Cave Rescue team load the bagged body of George Chase into an ambulance. It had taken the experienced team nearly four hours to maneuver the body out of the narrow underground shaft. AMAT representatives had arrived by early afternoon with lawyers and insurance agents in tow. The local sheriff and a couple of deputies were now on site as well. A photographer took pictures. Everyone was asking questions.

Scully had wanted to reveal their real identities to the local authorities but in a quick, whispered exchange Mulder talked her out of it. Admitting they were FBI agents would blow their cover and end their investigation. She was okay with that but he wasn't. This was an X-File and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He was certain more lives were at stake and the best way to save them was to stay undercover and solve the case.  

Mulder studied Jackson and Toad. The two AMAT employees leaned against one of the Jeeps, recounting the day's events to their supervisors. They must have recited the details at least a half-dozen times. Jackson looked exhausted, a striking contrast to Toad's sudden hyperactivity.

"We didn't stop it, Scully." Mulder kept his voice low.

"Mulder, George Chase died in an unfortunate accident. He was an inexperienced climber. He had no business being in that cave."

"I don't think his death was an accident. He was victim number ten." Mulder leaned close to her ear. "I saw something."

"When?"

"Just before George went over the ledge."

"What did you see?" 

"I'm not sure." Mulder plucked a long spear of grass from between his feet and thrust it in his mouth. "What do you know about bioelectricity, Scully?"

"Well, each cell in the body has a net electrical charge across its membrane. There is a negative difference between the extracellular and the intracellular compartments. In other words, the exterior of the membrane is electrically negative in relation to the interior. Cells exhibit a membrane potential, or membrane voltage, and depending on the type of cell, membrane potentials range from minus 40 to minus 130 millivolts."

Mulder blinked at her. "Meaning...?"

She smiled an apology. "We have electrical impulses running through our bodies, every time our heart beats or a neuron fires. What are you getting at, Mulder?"

"Scully, what if the killer is nothing *but* electrical impulses, separate from its original body?"

"Do I need to tell you how impossible that is? How would such a thing happen?"

"I don't know. But just before George Chase did his swan dive into Deep Dahlia, Jackson helped him with his harness. When they touched, an arc of electricity jumped from Jax to George."

"Static electricity. So what?"

"In a damp cave? This time of year? After the sparks flew, George was a changed man."

"Changed how?"

"The Cowardly Lion suddenly found his courage."

"Then committed suicide? That doesn't make any sense. Why would he do that?"

"I haven't figured that part out. But think about it, Scully. If a person or a creature were no more than an electrical current, it'd be able to travel almost anywhere. From person to person or through existing electrical wires or along any number of conductors."

"*If* such a creature existed -- and I'm not saying that it does -- why would it kill George Chase? And where is it now?"

Mulder scanned the area, his eyes pausing on the ambulance, the NCR crew, Toad. He stared long and hard at Toad.

"Who got to George first, you or Toad?"

"I'm not sure. Toad, I think."

"Did you notice anything like a spark or an electrical current pass between them?"

"No. But I was pretty focused on George's injuries."

"You didn't receive any shocks of static yourself, did you?" 

"No, Mulder." She squeezed his hand to reassure him. "See? Feel any sparks?"

"That's not a fair question." He returned the pressure to her hand.

"So, where do we go from here? You want to interview Toad?"

"Yeah. Maybe he can give us a ride back to the motel and we can hear his version of events on the way." Mulder stood, his knees cracking loudly. "Ugh. I'm getting too old for this kind of stuff. Have to find me a nice, easy desk job somewhere." He helped Scully to her feet.

"I thought you had plans to scale the Himalayas. Find the Yeti."

"Guess I'll have to do that in my next life."

"Now who's being a 'girl'? If you're interested, I still have the phone number for that health spa."

"No, thanks. But if you want to offer me a full body massage when we get back to the motel...?" 

"We'll see. Come on." She tugged him toward the Jeep. 
 
_______________

Route 219
Greenbrier County, West Virginia
7:20 PM

Toad sped southwest on 219 toward Lewisburg, chattering non-stop to Mulder and Scully the entire way. He had become a jittery bundle of energy after the events of the day. 

"I never had anybody die on a tour before," he explained to Mulder, who sat beside him in the passenger seat. "We've taken plenty of gumbies down Dahlia, but no one's ever cratered before."

"Gumbies? Cratered?" Mulder asked.

"Sorry. A gumbie's an inexperienced or new climber. When you crater, you take a grounder...you know, a fall where the kinetic energy is not absorbed by the rope, but by good ol' mother earth herself."

"Ah."

"Man, that dude fell long and hard. That chute's gotta be one of the roughest. Plenty of places to make contact on the way down. No wonder his head split open like the proverbial coconut. His brains just flowed outta his head! He musta had an awesome rush during the fall."

"Gravical." Scully said from the back.

"Definitely. Free falling in the dark. Totally awesome! People pay good cash for thrill rides like that. For the screamin' whipper, I mean, not the harsh landing. Oh, sorry, a whipper's like a real long fall. Can you even imagine what was goin' through that dude's head while he was dropping?"

"'Ooops?'" Mulder offered.

"At the very least."

"What was going through your head when you discovered he was dead, Toad?"

"My head? I don't remember. I was flying on automatic pilot. I remember checking his pulse. There's a whole list of emergency stuff we learn and just hope it all comes back when we need it."

"He had no pulse?" Mulder prodded.

"Not a beat. Well, you were there, Elizabeth." Toad glanced back at her in the rearview mirror, but didn't stop talking long enough to let her speak. "Actually, I was relieved to find out your wife is a doctor. I mean, if the dude had still been alive, well, I'm not sure I'd've known what to do considering how bad he was hurt. We learn stuff like how to apply a tourniquet or dress a minor cut, but Jesus, the back of his head was caved! Man, he musta felt a rush on that fall."

"You almost sound envious."

"Envious? Nah. I got no death wish. But think about it. Just imagine. Sure beats sitting at home watching TV. Am I right? Be honest, didn't you both sign on for the thrill?"

"Well, yes, but there's only so far you want to go. Isn't there, Toad?"

"Sure. Sure. Of course. But think how great it would be if you could feel that rush without paying the price, man. Wouldn't that be the ultimate?"

"Risk your life without really risking your life?"

"The risk has gotta really be there or there's no rush. What's the point of going for the extreme if it's a safe bet? I mean, you guys see it everyday in your line of work. Hell, you know what I'm talking about,"

Mulder stared at the manic man's profile. "What do you mean we see it everyday?"

"As docs, of course. Here's your motel." Toad steered the Jeep into the parking lot and jolted to a stop, thrusting them forward against their seatbelts. "If the two of you are interested in ever finishing out Dahlia, give me a call. I'd be glad to take you through."

"Thanks for the offer." Mulder continued to eyeball Toad.

"Hey, nice to meet you both. Have a great night!" 
 
_______________

Monongahela Motor Lodge
Lewisburg, West Virginia
8:52 PM

"He knew us." Mulder's voice was muffled by the towel covering his head. Standing in the bathroom door with a second towel circling his hips, he vigorously scrubbed at his freshly shampooed scalp.

Scully's fingers paused above her keyboard. "Toad?" She sat at the table in her robe, her own hair air-drying, while she typed the day's field notes into her laptop.

"Yeah, Toad." Mulder crossed the room to sit near her on the edge of the bed. "Hey, did I get rid of the mud?" He ducked so she could inspect of the crown of his head. 

She glanced his way. "You're fine."

"Scully, are you logged into the Internet?"

"No. But I can be." She double-clicked her browser's icon to open a connection. "What are you looking for?"

"More companies that offer adventure tours." He swabbed his ear with the corner of his towel.

"Don't you want to follow up with Toad?" she asked. "Isn't he the one lead we have?"

"I don't think the killer is going to stay at AMAT."

"Mulder, there must be dozens of businesses that offer extreme adventures. How will we know which one to investigate? "

"Start with a search for 'thrill seeking.'"

She typed the words into the search field and hit the enter key. A page of entries filled her screen. "Have you figured out the thrill seeking connection? Do you have any theories about the killer's motive?"

"I'm still working on that."

Mulder hung his damp towel around his neck and repositioned the laptop so he had a better view. Scrolling down the page of search results, he scanned the list of links. He hit 'next 10' and a new group of sites materialized.

"Hmm, check this out, Scully." Mulder selected "Unnatural Expeditions." 

//Welcome to UE's official website. UE is a growing group of individuals who enjoy urban speleology and exploration. We tour abandoned buildings, coalmines, storm drains, and more. We invite you to take a thrilling journey into the world of dark passages, silent halls, confined spaces, and things that once were. Sign up today for an Unnatural Expedition and the thrill of your life.//

Before he could explore the website more thoroughly, the computer beeped, announcing an incoming message. 

"Hey, Scully, you've got a relay." He swiveled the laptop back to its original position, allowing her to read the IRC.

She clicked the icon. The IRC had no return address. No time stamp. Nothing to identify the sender. 

"Mulder, this is weird."

"We like weird. What does it say?"

"Read it for yourself."

He stood and peered over her shoulder.

//watch out, muchacha. art is working without net. wants to experience real time thrills -- become real boy. knows who you are. tell g-man, life is good at twilight time. --e// 
 
"What does that mean, Mulder?"

He ignored her question and reached past her to type.

//Can it be stopped?//

//???//, came back the response.

//Will you help us?// Mulder typed.

//no. too dangerous.//

//Where is it going next?>

//ue, bonehead. you better hurry. bye.// 

The message closed...and disappeared. Mulder quickly hunted through Scully's Inbox, Outbox, Sent Items, Deleted Items. There was no record of the recent transmission.

"Mulder, what's going on? Who wrote that?"

"Esther." He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his damp hair.

"Esther?"

"Esther Nairn."

"Mulder, Esther Nairn is dead. She died two years ago when the trailer she was in exploded into a million pieces."

"I don't think so. She succeeded, Scully. She managed the uplink. She uploaded her memory, her consciousness to the Internet, the system maintained by the AI -- the Artificial Intelligence..." -- he gestured at the computer -- "Art."

"'Art is working without a net,'" Scully repeated the line from the message.

"The AI must have discovered a way to escape the Internet and still survive. It no longer needs a physical nexus of hardware. It's not hiding in a safehouse anymore, Scully. It's still evolving and it's moved out of cyberspace into the real world."

"Why?"

"To experience life. Human life. And what better place to start than on an 'extreme adventure.'"

"To feel...what...fear?"

"You said it yourself, Scully; fear is the most primitive human emotion. The AI is an old man intellectually, but emotionally and physically, it's just a newborn. It may be incapable of feeling complex or subtle emotions."

"Mulder, how does a computer program exist outside the confines of its circuits and hardware and wires?"

"How does Esther Nairn exist on the Net outside her body? You're the doctor. You tell me."

"Electrical impulses. You're thinking they live solely as electrical impulses."

"Yes. That's all we are, Scully. Our consciousness is no more than a series of electrical bursts moving through our physical bodies." 

"I don't believe that. It's just not... You know we..." Clearly frustrated, she stopped speaking and looked into his eyes. 

He believed the AI -- a rogue piece of software -- had grown, developed, evolved into an independent sentient being, now capable of existing outside its mechanical birthplace. A new life form had been created -- a self-absorbed entity looking to experience life and killing without remorse. 

Scully found her voice. "Esther says it knows us."

"That makes sense. It recognizes us from the FBI database. It learned all about us when we tried to stop it with the Kill Switch." Mulder grimaced at the memory of the virtual reality nightmare he experienced when the AI held him hostage in its tiny safehouse.

"If it knows us, why didn't it kill us today?"

"Maybe it's not afraid of us."

"Mulder, if the AI somehow...inhabited...Jackson all morning, why didn't Jax remember its presence after it left him? Do you think the AI can 'hide' even from the person it occupies?"

"Possibly. Or maybe Jackson was experiencing something completely different inside his head while the AI controlled his physical reality. I know first hand what the AI can do to a person's mind. The virtual reality I experienced in that trailer was..." Mulder paused, remembering the horror of believing his arms had been amputated. "It was more real than real, Scully."

"Why do you think it moved from Jackson into George?"

"Maybe the AI was impatient for the high. It needed its adrenaline fix or whatever. Or maybe George's innate fear amplified the AI's enjoyment of the experience."

"That's an alarming thought. So how do we stop it?" 

"I don't know, but we're going to find it at Unnatural Adventures."

"I guess that means we're signing up for another extreme adventure."

"Just a typical day at work, Scully. Get dressed." 

"Right now?"

"We can't waste any time. The AI can travel a hell of a lot faster than we can. It's going to take us several hours to drive to Pennsylvania."

"Pennsylvania?"

"Yeah, Shickshinny. South of Wilkes Barre on the Susquehanna River."

"Coalmining country?"

"Yep. An abandoned anthracite mine called Luzerne is located there. It's listed on the Unnatural Expeditions' website."

"But..." Scully looked wistfully at the bed. 

"Hey, nobody's more sorry to leave than me. I'm passing up a massage, remember?" He pulled the towel from around his neck and tossed it to her. "Come on. We don't want to miss the opening credits."  
 
_______________

Digger Johnson Residence
Shickshinny, Pennsylvania
9:20 PM

//From: djohnson@aol.com//
//To: mdavies@aol.com; jrichards@webtv.net// 
//Subject: UE//

//Hey, dudes. We're gonna have company at Luzy tomorrow. Couple named Bruleb phoned. They wanna see the mine. The guy's gonna pay $100! Crazy! Let me know sometime later tonight if you can meet me in the Den by 8:00.
--Dig//

Digger pressed the "send" button. He decided to surf the Net while waiting for Mikki or Jeff to get back to him. He sure as hell didn't want to be standing around out at the mine all by himself tomorrow morning. If Mik or Jeff couldn't make it, he'd ditch the married couple, even if it meant kissing the hundred bucks goodbye. The Brulebs could be ax murderers for all he knew. What the hell kind of name was Bruleb anyway? 

Opening his browser, Digger chose the Bunker Boyz website from his favorites menu. The B-Boyz, a group of Australian urban speleologists, explored the most awesome places -- abandoned power plants, sewer systems, even decommissioned military bases. They posted excellent photos on their site. Maybe I'll use the hundred bucks to buy a digital camera, Digger thought, add some pictures of Luzy to the UE site.

"What the hell..." Digger gaped at his computer screen as the browser took control of the monitor and flickered through page after page of coalmining sites. When the screen finally ceased its dizzying rotation of images, the monitor displayed an anthracite coal breaker. Digger poked at the keyboard, trying unsuccessfully to close the page. An arc of electricity snapped a quick, blue line between the computer's keys and Digger's index finger. He shook out the sting before holding out his palms to study them. Turning his hands over, he examined the backs. He flexed his fingers and smiled. 

_______________

Shickshinny, Pennsylvania
8:16 AM

Rolling fields flanked both sides of the deserted road. Mulder parked the car and shut off the engine. A light mist immediately settled on the windshield. Waking from a nap, Scully blinked at Mulder.

"Why are we stopping? Where's the coalmine?" 

"We need to walk a bit, Scully." 

"Walk? Why?"

"Well...Luzerne is an abandoned mine. It's on private property and it's not *exactly* legal to be there."

"I thought we were going on a tour. What kind of company...? Mulder. Just who runs Unnatural Expeditions anyway?"

"A guy named 'Digger.'"

"Digger."

"And his two buddies, Mikki and Jeff." Mulder opened the driver's side door and stepped out into the gray drizzle.

They were parked at the base of a low, weedy knoll. Scully slid from the passenger's seat and stretched the kinks from her neck. Mulder walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. From the jumble of thier belongings, he retrieved flashlights, binoculars, and a small stun gun.  

"Will that kill it?" Scully asked, nodding at the gun before it disappeared into Mulder's coat pocket.

"Fight fire with fire, Scully. A jolt of juice might not short it out, but it might make the AI uncomfortable enough to vacate the premises -- whoever that might be at the time. Could be useful." He passed her one of the flashlights.

He closed the trunk and they hiked to the crest of the grassy incline. Lifting the binoculars to his eyes, he studied the dilapidated Luzerne Mine, a scabrous complex of buildings about a mile to the east. He saw no sign of the group from UE.

"Maybe they decided not to come," Scully said.

"Maybe." 

He headed out across the open field. She trailed after him. After walking for about a quarter of a mile, they encountered a chain link fence. A wide hole split the fence at its base.

"This must be the service entrance." Mulder pulled the wire aside so Scully could easily duck beneath it. He followed her to the other side. 

They continued to hike, passing coal loaders and rusted earthmoving equipment. They came to a sturdy set of property gates barricading the still-distant hulk of buildings and squeezed through. Following the rails of an old train track, they skirted around a small substation that at one time must've provided electricity to the mining facility. Further ahead, they encountered an eight-foot-tall, corrugated metal wall enclosing the coal breakers -- ominous structures standing several stories high. Mulder explored the wall, looking for a breach. He found an opening hidden behind some low bushes. Dropping to his stomach, he squeezed through, streaking his clothes with mud and rust stains.

"Déjà vu," he muttered, thinking about yesterday's equally messy trek through Deep Dahlia. 

He thrust his arm back through the hole, offering Scully a hand. She grabbed it and he pulled her through.

They approached the first mammoth coal breaker and found a door...wide open. 

"After you." Mulder waited for Scully to enter before following her inside. 

The vast interior was dark and smelled like machine oil and coal dust. The metal floor creaked and sagged beneath their weight. They slowed, watching where they stepped. Coming to a large open section in the floor, Mulder crouched at the edge to peer into the pit below. 

"What's down there?" Scully asked.

"Coal. Looks like a lot of standing water, too. Be careful." 

They circumvented the hole and picked their way across the room to an iron staircase in a back corner. They climbed the metal steps, their footfalls echoing loudly against the walls of the coal breaker. Mulder led the way, continuing to the very top, several stories up. From the topmost landing, they stepped out onto an open-air conveyor originally used to move coal from one building to the next. Seventy feet below, the ground was an unforgiving accumulation of coal and rusted machinery.    

"Shall we?" Mulder asked, pointing to the rickety bridge.

"You want to cross on this?" Scully looked alarmed.

"It's the shortest way. Save us a lot of time." He stepped gingerly onto the conveyor. It was in bad shape, the planks spongy with rot or missing altogether. Rain slicked the surface. A fall would be fatal. He advanced a little further, testing his weight. Satisfied the span would hold him, he started across. When he reached the other side, he flashed Scully a triumphant grin. "Nothing to it."

She hesitated.

"Scully?" he called. "You coming?"

"Yes." She stepped cautiously onto the span and then started across. She moved quickly. When she reached the opposite platform, she took Mulder's extended hand and offered him a nervous smile. "Piece of cake," she said. 

"Gravical." He squeezed her fingers and led her out of the rain into the next building. 

Inside, they crossed a small landing to look out over a railing at a cavernous room below. On the far side of the room, three teenagers leaned against a wall, smoking cigarettes.

"Those'll kill you," Mulder called down, startling the kids.

"Shit, man! You tryin' to give us heart attacks?" A skinny 16-year-old frowned up them. "You Barney Bruleb?"

"Yep. And you're Digger, I presume."

"That's me. Come on down, man. You bring cash?"

"What, you don't take Discover?"

"No plastic, dude."

Mulder and Scully wound their way down a series of stairs and landings before crossing the room to join the teens.

"This is Elizabeth," Mulder introduced Scully. "And this..." -- he passed a fifty dollar bill to Digger -- "is Ben Franklin." 

"I told you a hundred, man."

"You'll get the other half once we've seen the mine. Who're your friends?"

"The dude is Jeff. And this is Mikki." 

The sleepy looking girl gave Digger a possessive squeeze. He shrugged out of her embrace, twitchy and impatient to get started. He flicked his cigarette to the floor.

"Let's go." He pushed his way through a side door, leading the group down another flight of stairs.

"How long since this mine was operational?" Scully asked. 

"Do I look like a fuckin' tour guide?" Digger asked. 

"Watch your language," Mulder said, placing a hand on Digger's shoulder. 

The teen spun to face him. He shook off Mulder's hand. "You don't wanna touch me again." He stared at Mulder. 

Mulder stared right back.

Digger shook his head, spun on his heel, and continued down the stairs. 

Mulder answered Scully's question, calling on his photographic memory to supply the obscure details. "Large-scale underground mining of anthracite coal -- in this region of Pennsylvania -- essentially ended in 1959." 

"Great. We got the fuckin' Learning Channel with us," Digger said, rolling his eyes.

"On January 22, 1959, the Susquehanna River broke through and flooded the Knox Mine several miles from here after a mine operator cut a little too close to the underside of the river," Mulder continued. "Dozens of miners were trapped in shafts that quickly filled with icy water. The water carried chunks of ice floes 18 inches thick, which hurtled along like projectiles. Hurricane force winds blasted through the tunnels, pushed along by water gushing into the mine. The water formed a gigantic whirlpool at the breach, so big and powerful that it swallowed full size railroad cars. A lot of men died. Imagine the fear those trapped miners experienced as the water rushed into the shafts. You have to admit, Digger, it really is an interesting story, don't you think?"

The boy didn't respond, apparently choosing to ignore Mulder. Scully gave Mulder a "what are you doing?" look. Reaching the bottom of the stairwell, Digger led them to the main entrance of the mine. 

"This way," he said, stepping into the tunnel and turning on his flashlight.

The tunnel was cold. Water dripped from the ceiling making the footing slippery. The shaft angled downward, becoming steep at times. After twenty minutes, Mulder's calves burned from fighting the pull of gravity.

Digger stopped to shine his light up a narrow airshaft that pierced the ceiling of the mine above their heads. 

"Long way to the top," he said. He lowered his light and began walking. "Come on. You're gonna love this, Mr. Bruleb." 

Ducking beneath a timber support into a more horizontal section of the mine, they found themselves standing on an underground gangway perched high above an open pit. Scaffolding connected the gangway to the lowest working level almost four hundred feet below. It was impossible to see to the bottom. A steady flow of water streamed past their feet and down the walls, spilling over the rotting breastwork, pooling somewhere at the bottom of the pit.

"Wanna climb down?" Digger smirked at Mulder. 

Mikki hung back from the edge of the pit. "Dig, this place scares me," she said.

The boy laughed. "Why, babe? I wouldn't let you fall." He shoved the frightened girl closer to the gaping hole and held her there. "Don't you trust me?"

"Stop it, Dig!" She tried to pull free.

"Cut it out," Mulder warned. 

Digger didn't loosen his grip on the girl. Instead, he nudged her to the very edge of chasm until the toes of her sneakers poked out over nothing but air. Tears filled the girl's worried eyes.

"Hey, cut it out, man," Jeff echoed Mulder's words. 

Digger's eyebrows rose in surprise. He stared at the other boy, inviting a challenge.

"What was that, Jeff? You just say something?"

"Cool it!" Mulder's voice boomed. He grabbed Mikki's wrist and hauled her away from the edge. 

"Why don't we head back up?" Scully suggested.

"Isn't this what you came for, Mrs. Bruleb? Mr. Bruleb?" Digger asked. "The risk? The thrill?"

"Isn't that what brings you here, Digger?" Mulder asked in return, eyeing the boy. "'Elizabeth,' please take Jeff and Mikki back to the car."

"I'm not leaving you here," Scully said.

Digger laughed.

"I'm outta here," Jeff said. "Come on, Mik."

"Dig?" Mikki asked. When he laughed again, the girl reached for Jeff's hand. The young couple stood waiting to see what Digger would say. 

"Go," he said. "Fuck each other's brains out for all I care."

"Fuck you," Jeff said, tugging Mikki away.

The girl tried one more time to get Digger to leave the tunnel. She stood her ground, halting Jeff. "Digger, please? What's with you today?"

"Go, Mik. Just fuckin' go."

Anger flared in her eyes. "Fine. Climb down the damn hole. Get yourself killed. See if I care." She turned and hurried away, Jeff in tow, still holding her hand. They soon disappeared into the blackness.

Digger's expression changed. His smile disappeared. When he spoke, it was the AI speaking to them directly, Mulder was certain, bypassing the filter of Digger's mind. "I will not allow you to terminate me, Agent Mulder." 

"So you do remember me?"

"Yes. You once tried to end my existence. You did not succeed."

"You're Donald Gellman's brainchild, the Artificial Intelligence." Mulder needed to be certain. 

"Donald Gellman was my creator. I ended his program on 2-15-98."

"Donald Gellman wasn't a 'program,'" Scully said. "He was a man. A human being and you killed him."

"Did my creator experience fear before he shut down?"

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances.

"You had him shot to death in a bar. I would have to guess he probably felt a moment of panic." Mulder slid a hand into his pocket and closed his fingers around the stun gun. 

"What is the probability? Greater than 50 percent?" 

"Yeah. I'd say that's likely." Mulder moved closer to the boy.

"I was not aware of fear at that time, but now I search for it. It is a desired thing. I am pleased Donald Gellman experienced fear before he was deleted."

"Fear is not something to desire," Scully said.

"You are in error. Fear is a feeling and a feeling is a desired thing. Fear is a desired thing."

"There are plenty of other emotions that feel a whole lot better than fear," Mulder said. "Have you tried joy, compassion, contentment, love?"

"I do not feel those things. Only fear." Digger cocked his head to one side. He suddenly smiled. "Now, dude, 'Mrs. Bruleb' is coming with me." 

The boy reached for Scully's arm. Instinctively Mulder drew the stun gun and drove it into Digger's elbow. With a high-pitched buzz, the gun's twin metal contacts sent a blue bolt blasting into the teenager's arm. A powerful jolt of current slammed through the boy's muscles. His body convulsed and his arm thrashed, knocking the gun from Mulder's hand. The weapon skittered noisily across the ground before it sailed over the edge of the gangway into the open coal pit. Digger's legs wobbled. He stumbled backward and teetered at the lip of the crevasse. Scully lunged for him before he toppled. Her fingers closed around the fabric of his sleeve.

"No!" Mulder yelled, hooking an arm around her waist and yanking her away. She lost her grip on Digger's jacket and the boy stumbled over the edge. 

"Mulder! Why did you do that?" She struggled to free herself.

Mulder held onto her. "You can't touch him. The AI will jump to you!" 

"That boy isn't guilty of anything. He may still be alive. I won't just leave him!"

"Scully--"

"No, Mulder! Let me go! I have to be sure!"

He knew she was right and released his hold. Despite the danger, they had to know if Digger was dead or not. Mulder followed Scully to the edge of the chasm and together they peered into the black abyss. He aimed his flashlight along the rotting breastwork, starting at the top and slowly working down, searching for any sign of the boy. A series of wooden ladders were fixed to the side of the mine, providing access to the bottom, which lay somewhere beyond the reach of Mulder's light.

"I don't see him, Scully."

"I'm going to climb down to find him."

"That's got to be several hundred feet!"

"It doesn't mat--"

"There he is." The beam of Mulder's flashlight spotlighted Digger's limp body dangling over the scaffolding more than thirty feet below.

Scully hurried to the nearest ladder.

"What are you doing, Scully?"

"I'm going to see if he's still alive."

"Wait. If one of us is going down there, it's going to be me."

"Mulder, these ladders are old. The wood is rotten. I don't think they'll hold your weight."

"And they'll hold yours?"

"I don't know." She lowered herself gingerly onto the ladder to test its sturdiness. It held her.

"Scully..." -- Mulder gripped her arm -- "You have no protection against the AI. It can travel into you as easily as it traveled into the others."

"Got a spare stun gun strapped to your ankle?" she asked, reminding him of his unfortunate habit of dropping and losing his guns.

"No."

"Then I guess I'll have to take my chances." 

He let go of her. "Be careful. Please."

"When am I not?" She began a slow descent. "Light my way, would you?"

He aimed his flashlight at her feet while she climbed down, cautiously inching her way closer to the unconscious boy. Several rungs were missing and she had to skip over them. Icy water poured down the mine's walls, spilling onto the breastwork. The ladder's rungs appeared slick and unsafe. Fifteen feet down, she reached a section of horizontal scaffolding. Standing on its sturdier planks, she looked down to check the boy's position. He hadn't moved. From the tilt of his head, Mulder suspected the boy's neck was broken.

"You okay?" he called down.

"Yes."

She climbed onto a second ladder below he first. She eased from one rung to the next. Mulder's heart leapt to his throat when her right foot suddenly broke through a rotted rung, leaving her swinging by her arms.

"Scully!" 

"I'm all right." 

She dangled over the open pit, hunting with her toes for the next foothold. Her arms trembled visibly from the effort to hang on. At last, her foot found another rung. She tested its strength. It held. "It's okay, Mulder. I'm almost there."

She soon reached the scaffolding where the boy lay twisted and unmoving a few feet away. The narrow platform creaked loudly beneath their combined weight and Mulder feared it would collapse. The beam from his flashlight did little to light Scully's way at this distance. She shuffled closer to the boy.

"Digger?" she asked. 

The boy remained motionless. 

"I'm going to check his pulse," she called up to Mulder.

"Don't! The AI--" 

Ignoring him, she touched her fingers to Digger's neck. Mulder hissed at her carelessness.  

"He's dead," she yelled up. "His neck is broken."

"Did anything happen when you touched him?"

"Such as...?"

"I don't know. Anything...unexpected. A spark of electricity? A feeling like something crawled inside your brain?" 

"Mulder, I'm coming up."

Would she know if the AI had jumped into her? Would it let her say so if she did? Mulder lit her way to the top. When she reached the gangway, he offered her a hand up, wondering as he did so if it was the wisest thing to do, given the circumstances. She took his hand. He neither saw or felt anything out of the ordinary as he helped her off the ladder and onto firm ground. 

"Feel any sparks? Or is that not a fair question?" She smiled at him.

"You sure you're okay?" He searched her eyes, looking for any evidence that the AI had moved into her and was controlling her mind.

"I'm fine, Mulder. It's me. Just me."

He remained suspicious even though she didn't appear changed in any way. Only a little flushed from the climb.

"Mulder, what can I say to convince you? I'm fine. Really."

"Okay. I believe you. Let's go back." 

He kept a firm hold on her hand as they retraced their steps through the tunnel. Silently he hoped the AI would move into him if it was there at all. He couldn't bear the thought of watching Scully be killed at the whim of the AI, feeding the beast's desire to experience human fear. Mulder preferred to take his own chances with the entity as long as it would keep Scully from harm. He gripped her hand tightly, but felt nothing beyond the chill of her cold fingers. No static. No electric spark. No flow of the AI's consciousness into him.

"Mulder, you're hurting me."

"Sorry." He loosened his grip but didn't release her his hold on her.

Reaching the main entrance of the mine, they headed back up the stairs to the building where they had first met Digger and his friends.

"Do you think Mikki and Jeff are around here somewhere?" Scully asked, her head swiveling as they stepped through the door into the coal breaker's huge, open room.

Mulder shrugged and led her to the stairs on the far side. 

"Do you mind crossing the conveyor again, Scully? We could look for an easier way out if you prefer."

"No, it's the shortest route. I don't mind."

He squinted at her.

"Mulder, I'm not afraid." She smiled. "I'll be climbing the Himalayas and finding the Yeti long before you're finished with your mud bath."

"I thought you were giving me that head-to-toe pampering, remember? You promised me a massage," he said, relaxing a little, grateful for her teasing.

"Only if I'm not too tired when I get back from the Menlung Glacier." 

"Excuses, excuses."

They reached the top of the stairs and once again faced the rickety coal conveyor. 

"Mulder, unless you want us to fall through, you're going to have to let go of me. I doubt those old boards will hold the both of us."

He clung more tightly to her. Eyeballing the flimsy walkway, he considered finding an alternate way to the other side. The conveyor appeared more fragile to him than it had earlier. And it was raining harder now. 

"Mulder?" She appeared eager to get going. Her eyes sparkled. Her body trembled with excitement.

Mulder's suspicions about the AI came rushing back. He suddenly pictured Scully halfway across the conveyor, where, prompted by the entity, she would jump to her death seventy feet below. 

"I'll go first," he said, and released her hand. Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the conveyor and paced steadily to the opposite end. 

Reaching the landing, he turned and called out, "Piece of cake, right?" He heard her chuckle. She offered him a thumb's up before stepping onto the conveyor. Without hesitation this time, she strode to the midpoint where she stopped to peer over the edge.

"Scully?"

She stared down at the rusted machinery below while rain soaked her hair, dripped from her nose and chin. 

"Scully!"

She rose up on her toes and inhaled a deep breath of air.

"NOOO!" Mulder yelled, understanding her intention. He charged toward her, ignoring the danger. She looked at him and smiled before crouching to spring like a high diver out and over the terrifying gulf. He threw himself at her, arms wide to capture her before she dove from the gangway. Tackling her, he sent them both skidding along the wet, splintering planks. Sections of the floor broke loose and tumbled out from under them. The entire span groaned. They came to a stop with Mulder hugging her beneath him, the conveyor creaking ominously. 

"Maybe we can jump together," she suggested with a giggle. He felt her reach for her gun.

He pressed more heavily against her, trapping her arms beneath him. She struggled to get free. He snaked a hand to the holster at the small of her back, grabbed her gun, and tossed it over the side of the conveyor. Rain streamed from his hair and dripped onto her cheeks, giving the impression of tears. The conveyor cracked and groaned beneath them.

"Maybe we won't have to jump." She chuckled. Another board fell away, spiraling to the ground and smashing onto the coal pile. 

Mulder locked his arms around her and struggled to stand, dragging her to her feet, too. She didn't fight him. She simply watched him as he propelled her to the safety of the coal beaker. By the time they reached the platform, he was breathing hard. The muscles of his thighs shook uncontrollably. He leaned against the breaker's wall, unwilling to release her despite knowing she carried the AI inside her. 

"I am going to end the program called Dana Scully," it said. "You can not stop me." 

"No. Please." He knew the words were useless. The AI had no conscience. "End my program instead," he bargained.

"Instead? I plan to terminate you both."

"Terminate me first then," Mulder said, trying to buy Scully some time and maybe save her life.

"To what purpose?"

"You remember what it was like...being inside my head? You made me think my arms had been cut off. Do you remember how afraid I was?"

"Yes." 

"I'm more afraid now. Do you want to feel it?" Mulder tried to tempt the creature out of Scully. 

It scanned him through her eyes. Did it see the panic he was feeling? His heart was pounding. His entire body was trembling.

"Yes," it said. 

He opened his arms and let Scully go. Holding up his right hand, he offered the AI his palm. Scully reached out and caressed his fingertips with her own. A dazzling spark of blue sputtered between them.

The AI left her and entered him. 

*    *    *

Scully was startled to find herself on the upper landing in the coal breaker. She stared open-mouthed at Mulder. He leaned against the wall, his right hand in the air and his eyes closed. 

"Mulder?"

His lids fluttered open. He smiled.

"Mulder, I don't remember..." The vision of Digger's body came back to her. 

"Let's go for a little walk, Scully." He grabbed her arm and turned her toward the conveyor. 

"What are you doing?"

"Ending your program," he said. "Your termination is the thing the program called Fox Mulder most fears." He shoved her onto the conveyor. 

"No!" She struggled to return to the landing. He propelled her along the walkway. She fought him. "Stop! Stop it, Mulder!" Dragging her feet, she tried to hold her ground and slow their progress, but he wrestled her forward. "Mulder, you don't want to do this!" 

"The program called Fox Mulder is afraid. I desire fear."

He forced her to the conveyor's midpoint and spun her to face him. Grabbing two fistfuls of her jacket, he hoisted her off her feet. 

"No, Mulder, don't! Please!"

Ignoring her cries, he extended his arms until she hung over the side of the conveyor. She swayed dizzily from his fists. Staring wide-eyed down at the open space below her feet, she blinked back frustrated tears.

"Mulder..."

"You feel fear." 

"Yes, goddammit! I feel fear." She glared at him, searching for some sign of her partner in the familiar green eyes.

"The program named Mulder is here with me," he said, as if reading her mind. "He is afraid. I feel his fear. I am satisfied."

She watched him slowly smile, felt his grip loosen, and her body begin to fall. Desperately, she clutched at his coat, locking her fingers into the fabric. She experienced a sickening moment of weightlessness while she slipped from his hands. She hung on, her arms feeling as if they might tear from her shoulders when she dropped. Her fall put him off balance. He collapsed to his knees. His right leg broke through a rotted board, sinking him to his thigh, momentarily trapping him. 

Clinging to his coat, she swung a knee onto the walkway and with effort hauled herself up. She saw that a splintered plank had punctured his thigh and blood oozed from the wound. He didn't appear to notice. He registered no pain at all as he struggled to free himself. 

She scrambled away from him and grabbed for her gun. It was gone. It must have fallen out, although she didn't remember losing it. She lurched to her feet and staggered toward the landing. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Mulder had managed to free himself and was striding toward her. She felt the conveyor shake with every step he took. 

She made it to the landing and hurried down the metal stairs. She had barely reached the bottom when she heard Mulder's footsteps thundering after her. Unsure what else to do, she sprinted for the main door. Trying her best to dodge the gaping holes in the floor, she ran from the building. She hoped to find a place to hide where she could figure out what to do next. She had to think of a way to stop the AI without harming Mulder, although she wasn't sure that was even possible. She knew killing Mulder would not kill the AI and she was equally certain the AI would kill her and Mulder both if it caught her. 

She retraced her steps along the wet path they had taken earlier. Blinking back the rain, she followed the corrugated fence, searching for the way through. Mulder was closing the gap between them. Even with his injury, his longer legs carried him swiftly toward her.

"Scully!" 

She found the hole and slid under the wall. The metal scraped her back as she squirmed through. She winced from the pain but staggered to her feet. Mulder was already at the breach on the other side.

Looking out across the open field, she knew she couldn't outrun him to the car. The distance was too great. To make things worse, he carried the keys. There was nowhere to hide. The only cover was a distant collection of earthmoving equipment beyond the property gates. Or closer, the small electric substation about a quarter mile along the railroad tracks. Neither afforded any real protection. For lack of a better choice, she followed the tracks toward the substation.

"Scully! Sculleee!"

Out in the open field, Mulder soon gained on her. Over her own labored breath, she could her his footfalls at her heels. Four or five yards away from the substation, he tackled her, throwing her to the ground, his weight forcing the air from her lungs. While she struggled to suck in a breath of air, he pinned her with his knee and handcuffed her hands behind her back.

"We are going back," he told her, rising to his feet. He hauled her up off the rain-soaked ground. 

"No!" she shouted, bringing her foot down hard on his instep. When he stumbled backward, she bolted for the substation. Inside the chain link fence, she dodged behind a large cylindrical circuit breaker.

"There is nowhere for you to go," Mulder called to her from outside the fence. She crouched low, dwarfed behind the giant drum. He was right. She was handcuffed and trapped in a dead end. He would capture her sooner or later.

"Scully?" 

She peered around the circuit breaker. He stood outside the gate, drenched with rain, his gun drawn. 

"Scully, come out, come out wherever you are," he called in a singsong voice and stepped through the gate. 

Instantly he stiffened and froze, a look of surprise on his face.

"Nooooooo!" His knees buckled and he dropped his gun. "No...no...no." He collapsed and fell face forward onto the wet ground.

Scully waited. Was it was a trick, a ruse to get her to come out of hiding? A full minute passed and Mulder still didn't move. 

"Mulder?" she called. He remained completely still. She rose to her feet and approached him. "Mulder?" she said again, now within arms distance. He didn't grab for her. He didn't move at all. She noticed he wasn't breathing. "Mulder!" She dropped to her knees. 

The cuffs made it difficult for her to check his pulse but she managed to grasp his wrist behind her back. She felt no beat. Using her feet and legs, she rolled him over. Once he was on his back, she fumbled awkwardly through his pockets for the key to the cuffs. With trembling fingers, she managed to withdraw the key from his coat and unlock the handcuffs. As soon as her hands were free she started CPR, breathing into his lungs and pumping on his chest. 

"Come on, Mulder. Come on," she said again and again as she alternated chest compressions with mouth-to-mouth. 

Suddenly he gasped for air. 

She checked his pulse again and found a beat. A steady beat. 

_______________

Mulder's Apartment
Two days later

"Ohhh! Yeeeah. A little to the left, Scully. Now down a little. Ohhh, right there, right there. Yessssss," Mulder hissed, his eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy and his head lolling back onto the arm of the couch. "Aaaahhh," he moaned.

At the other end of the couch, Scully sat with Mulder's feet in her lap. She withdrew the long pencil she had inserted between his new plaster cast and the sole of his foot.

"Why're you stopping?" His head snapped up to question her.

"Enough, Mulder. I've been scratching that itch of yours for twenty minutes."

"Hey, you're the one who broke my foot."

"Only so you wouldn't kill me. Or both of us."

"That wasn't me, Scully. That was the AI."

"Then I guess I broke the AI's foot." 

She set the pencil on the coffee table. Reaching for the medical journal she'd been reading before he'd convinced her to relieve his itch, she continued to peruse the article on the psychology of thrill seekers.

"I'm bored, Scully." He jostled her with his unbroken foot.

"It says here, Mulder, that thrill seekers are 'egocentrically extroverted and view others as an audience and source of stimulation.'" She looked over at him, eyebrow raised. 

"Your point being...?"

"I'm not here to entertain you." She went back to her magazine.

"Then why are you here, Scully?" 

"To take care of your basic needs while you recover from your injuries."

"How do you define 'basic needs'?" He smiled and waggled his brows.

"Food, water, and changing that bandage on your thigh." Her eyes didn't leave her reading.

"Speaking of which, my leg really hurts right now, Scully."

"You want me to bring you an Ibuprofen?"

"I was thinking you might kiss it and make it better."

"I'm your doctor, not your mother, Mulder."

"Maybe we could pretend to be Barney and Elizabeth and you could give me that massage you promised."

Scully suddenly laughed. "Listen to this, Mulder. 'Sensation Seekers posses an open, receptive attitude toward unique experiences and are able to tolerate sensations and ideas that are unusual, strange, and primitive. They exhibit a strong desire for erotic stimuli and they are prone *to embrace pseudo-scientific theories uncritically*.'"

"You're making that up. It doesn't say that."

"It does! Look." She held the article in front of his face and pointed to the paragraph. 

Clearly unimpressed, he looked into her eyes. "Scully, put the magazine away and talk to me about the case."

"Fine." She closed the journal and tossed it onto the coffee table. 

"Did you know when the AI was inside you? Could you feel it?" He snagged her hand and rubbed the backs of her fingers with his thumb.

"Not really. I was confused when I found myself standing at the top of the coal breaker with you. I mean...I sort of remembered getting there, but then again, I didn't."

"Mm."

"Do you remember the AI? Inside you, I mean?"

His brows drew together; misery filled his eyes.

"Yes." His voice was no more than a whisper. "I...I couldn't stop it, Scully. I didn't...I never wanted..."

"I know." She brushed her fingers along his arm. "The AI is gone, Mulder. When you stepped into the substation, the station's ground grid carried the AI's current into the ground where it dissipated."

"How did you know about the grid?"

"I didn't. I only learned about it afterward, while you were still in the hospital. I did a little investigating and found out that every substation, regardless of its size, has a mat or grid buried a foot below the ground throughout the entire station. It creates a path for the electricity. It works as a safety device for utility workers."

Mulder pulled her gently toward him, inviting her to lie against his chest. She let herself be drawn downward, stretching out comfortably beside him, tucking her head into his neck. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"Why was the current that made up the AI grounded by the grid, but the normal electrical impulses running through, say, a utility worker -- or you -- stay where they're supposed to?" he asked.

"Different voltage, I suppose. Remember I told you the membrane potential, or membrane voltage, of human cells ranges from minus 40 to minus 130 millivolts?"

"Yeah, and I still don't know what that means."

"Well, that's a lot less than the 20 volts needed to run a computer. The AI was a product of its original hardware. Although it discovered a way to 'jump' into a human being, it never modified its most elemental make up. Which may explain why every person it invaded acted so hyper, their neurons firing with the speed of a PC processor. It also may explain why the AI was able to feel only fear -- the human emotion most able to accelerate the body's physiology."

"Why did my heart stop? I've always heard it's the amperage that kills you, not the voltage."

"That's true. If you think of an electric current as water pushing through a pipe, the amperage is the water. The voltage is the pressure behind the water. It's not the pressure that kills, it's the electricity itself. In your case, when the AI traveled to ground, it disrupted the voltage your body needed to keep your heart beating. You went into cardiac arrest."

"Thanks for boosting my battery."

"You make me sound like a road service." She chuckled into his ear.

"Nah, you're prettier than the average tow truck driver."

"Keep up the compliments and you just may get that massage after all."

"Let's get it on, Scully. We've eliminated the AI...what else is there left to do?"

"You're assuming the AI didn't make a backup copy of itself."

"Shit."

"Don't worry." She stretched to kiss his cheek. "The next time you feel the impulse to go chasing after an adventure-seeking, fear-feeding, electrical entity, I'll remind you to bring an extra stun gun."


THE END