From: mrkeller829@gmail.com   
      
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   "Chermera" by Mary Ruth Keller Part 41  of 45   
   E-mail: mrkeller@eclipse.net, mrkeller829@gmail.com   
   PG-13   X-File: Myth-arc   Disclaimed in Part I   
   Already sent to Gossamer   
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   Royal Victoria Infirmary   
   Great North Trauma and Emergency Center   
   Newcastle-on-Tyne, UK   
   Tuesday, July 21, 1998   
   10:24 am   
      
   Dana Scully leaned back against the pillows. {Good thing this hospital has   
   Internet connectivity.} She brought up the official brochure for tourists to   
   the residence where she was first held. How had Mulder pronounced it, as they   
   had compared mental    
   notes on the past few days, while she had been tied down by the tubes, unable   
   to move, and he too exhausted, even to sleep? {Fenleyding.} She opened the   
   pdf, zooming in to the gardens. There. She had read the description several   
   times, letting the words    
   play in her mind. {Fenleyding, Fenrir's binding.} A long row of wormwood   
   tracked the north side of a sinuous path, variety Fenleyding. Someone in the   
   Suebi's past must have been an herbalist, to have created their own cultivar   
   of artemesia, setting him    
   on his life's profession.   
      
   At the end of the lane was a crossed-off circle, labeled, 'Abandoned mine, do   
   not enter.' That made sense. There were coal lenses throughout the region, so   
   for an estate to have had its own fuel source would, at one time, have been   
   exceedingly useful.    
   But the acrid tang of the wormword hung in her olfactory senses, pulling other   
   remembrances along with it. {Smells have the strongest associations with   
   memory.} Words floated back into her mind, distorted, distant. 'Good thing she   
   never thought of going    
   in there. We would never have been able to get her out.' She let out a long   
   breath. {What if that had been the only refuge the Suebi could find, as the   
   house had been broken into, before the fire began raging?} She needed to   
   discuss this with her partner.   
    Cradling the hand unit with her left shoulder, she tapped in his number.   
   "Mulder?"   
      
   "Yeah, Scully, you okay?"   
      
   She took a breath to explain her theory, but stopped. She could see the tips   
   of two black shoes just protruding past the opening. She dropped the phone to   
   grab the revolver, leveling it at the entrance as she flipped off the safety   
   with her thumb. "I    
   have a weapon. I want you to step into the light very slowly, hands in the   
   air."   
      
   "Scully!" The roar was audible, even with the hand unit dangling close to the   
   floor.   
      
   The short figure of the 'Professor' appeared. "Don't shoot me. I was just   
   hired to play a part."   
      
   Her eyes flared. "Fine. Then who hired you? What did he look like? Stay   
   there!" The man was shifting as far away from the doorway as he could. "Don't   
   move!"   
      
   "Get down, Scully!" Her partner was pounding down the hallway. "She has a   
   weapon!"   
      
   The diminutive agent threw herself onto the tiles, just as two shots sent   
   drywall shards flying. She scrambled to aim at the opening, where the   
   'Teacher' had been standing. "I have a weapon! Show yourself! Now!" She found   
   herself coughing from the dust,    
   red flecks spattering the tile. "Mulder! There's one here, inside the doorway!"   
      
   "I have her, Scully! You! On the ground, now!"   
      
   The tall woman complied.   
      
   "Stay there!" The dark-haired agent kicked the weapon away from her fingers to   
   the far side of the hall. "Scully? You okay?"   
      
   She rolled to her knees to aim the revolver at the short man. "I'm good,   
   Mulder. Is she cuffed?"   
      
   The tall agent had his SIG in the 'Teacher''s back, one cuff on her left   
   wrist, the other on the support for the handrail running at waist height along   
   the wall. "She's secured." He stepped into Scully's room.   
      
   "Don't shoot me, please." The little man was shaking. "She hired me. She never   
   told me anything."   
      
   Heedless of the loose, open-backed, too-short hospital gown, the diminutive   
   agent was walking slowly toward him, the revolver level in her left-handed   
   grip with the grey mustache, her bare feet moving in an uneven tread. "If you   
   were just playing a role    
   you were assigned, then why did you enjoy hitting me with that cane so much?"   
      
   Mulder stared at her for a moment. We'll talk about this sooner than later,   
   Scully. A feint by the 'Professor' in his partner's direction focused him.   
   "Don't move!" He placed the muzzle of his SIG on the man's neck. "Get back   
   down. Hands over your head,    
   where we can see them. Legs spread." He looked over at his partner. "It's   
   okay, Scully, just call for the orderlies, then Nichols. These two have a lot   
   of questions to answer."   
      
   She returned to the bed to reach for the assistance button, but, the green   
   light was dark. Her legs were shaking, now, so she folded onto the mattress.   
   "Mulder, I'm trying Nichols." She held the hand unit to her ear. "It's dead.   
   Toss me your cell phone."    
   She pushed herself up on her feet.   
      
   "Hah!" The 'Professor' was snarling as the tall agent's fingers went still by   
   his pocket. "You're not the only two who are good with technology." He pointed   
   at the toggle in Scully's hand. "We disabled the intercoms on this floor."   
      
   "And, we can unlock Bureau cuffs." The 'Teacher' was standing in the doorway,   
   her handgun leveled at Mulder's head. "Put down your weapons, Agent Scully,   
   Agent Mulder."   
      
   The tall man set his SIG on the floor.   
      
   The diminutive pathologist held the revolver up, then set it on the rolling   
   table, before her clinician's anger took over. "Someone could die, thanks to   
   you."   
      
   The little actor pulled out his own SIG. "That's the general idea. Too bad the   
   old man's service revolver was left in its case for so long. Alex could have   
   put it to some good use if you hadn't wrestled it away from him, Scully. And,   
   yes, I enjoyed    
   caning you. Women like you, who don't know their place, you deserve it, and   
   more."   
      
   Mulder, his jaw jutted, had his hands in the air. "So, how does this end,   
   people?"   
      
   The 'Teacher' advanced on him. "With you two dying in each other's arms, of   
   course." She wagged the tip of the Remington, forcing Mulder to back up beside   
   his partner. "Like Franz Ferdinand and Sophia. How tragic." Her voice switched   
   to a nasal sing-song.   
    "When was that, wicked little girl?"   
      
   The pathologist shook her head. "We're not playing a game here anymore."   
      
   Mulder looked over his shoulder at Scully, who canted her eyes toward the   
   weapon on the rolling tray. He sent her a fraction of a dip of his head.   
      
   The 'Professor' stood, shoulder to shoulder with the 'Teacher.' "No, we're   
   not."   
      
   "Now, Scully," Mulder hissed through clenched teeth.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)