The X-Files

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I came in search of something I did not believe existed.

I've stayed on now, in spite of myself.

In spite of everything I've ever held to be true.

I will continue here as long as I can. As long as you're beset by the haunting illness

which I saw consume your beautiful mind.

What is this discovery I've made? How can I reconcile what I see with what I know?

I feel this was meant not for me to find, but for you to make sense of,

make the connections which can't be ignored.

Connections which, for me, deny all logic and reason.

What is this source of power I hold in my hand, this rubbing?

This simple impression taken from the surface of the craft.

I watched this rubbing take its undeniable hold on you,

saw you succumb to its spiralling effect.

Now I must work to uncover what your illness prevents you from finding.

In the source of every illness lies its cure.

Who's there?

Who's there?!

He's been quiet for the last 36 hours, but he doesn't sleep.

There's activity in the temporal lobe we've just never seen.

It won't allow his brain to rest or shut down,

manifesting in episodes of aggression, sometimes against himself.

You can't sedate him?

Yes. We slow him down for short periods and put him in the neuro ward.

It's the only way we're able to run tests.

But over time...

his brain is going to just die.

Agent Mulder?

Agent Mulder, can you hear me?

Do you know who I am?

It's Skinner. Walter Skinner.

Can we get him outta here and get him some fresh air at least?

Let him go! He can't breathe!

Let go, Mulder. I don't want to hurt you.

Come on, let him go.

Stay there, Mr Skinner.

No, it's all right. Just let me get up.

5mg of haloperidol, IM!

- I want him in five-point restraints! - Yes, sir.

My God.

What happened here?

They said you speak English.

- What do you want? - I'm sorry. You must wonder who I am.

I am Amina Ngebe. I've come to see your discovery.

I asked that no one be told about it. Nor that I'm here.

Yes. Well, it is still a secret, but a well-known one, I'm afraid.

Dr Merkmallen called it the African Internet, God rest him.

You knew Dr Merkmallen?

I too am a professor of biology at the university.

But hardly one qualified to say what must have gone on here.

Well...

I was working late last night by I am plight and, uh, I saw a man who vanished...

and then they just swarmed.

You must not let the men know what happened to you last night -

the vanishing man, none of it.

Why?

They are animists, believing nature is vengeful.

They'll take this as a sign to leave what you have found alone, a bad omen.

- Caused by the ship out there? - Caused by God...

who will be much less helpful than those men if we are to continue this work.

The truck! He's gotta get to a hospital!

Hospital!

OK?

You see? Another warning.

Agent Mulder.

I wanna help you.

I don't know what to do. I don't have much time.

Can you write?

I feel you slipping away from me with every minute I fail here.

What are the elusive meanings I cannot see that are hidden here?

If I could understand it, know how it affected you,

I earn how to use its power to save you.

What is it?

Look, I'm sorry, I don't speak your language.

- Perhaps you need an interpreter. - Stay away from me!

Are you gonna hack me up in front of my driver? You're under suspicion already.

- You're the murderer here. - Murderer of who?

- Dr Merkmallen ! - I murdered no one.

But I won't be sent away from here. I know what we've got.

This craft that's come ashore? Its extraterrestrial origins?

- You don't even believe in that. - Nor do you. But here we are.

I'm here only to help my partner.

Then let me help you.

To read it.

I've spent my life looking for what's out there,

the answer to what theologians have pondered for millennia.

The key to everything. To life itself.

I've already been threatened by men in Washington about what I know.

How long would your secret keep if you were to send me away?

What is it?

It is a sea of blood.

- Michael Kritschgau. - It's six o'clock in the morning.

I don't know if you remember me. My name's Skinner.

- I'm here to talk to you about Fox Mulder. - I'm listening.

He's in a serious condition, Mr Kritschgau. He has to talk to you.

I got nothing to say to the man.

You know, I had a job... with a government pension coming.

And two years ago, Fox Mulder asked me to do him a favour -

blow the whistle on Uncle Sam's UFO propaganda mill.

And all it got me was this swanky address.

Look, he doesn't have much time.

Hey, I'm not a doctor. What is it you think I can do for him?

All I know is that he asked for you.

Can he even recognise me?

To be honest, I don't know.

Agent Mulder?

His brain is on red line. He's on haloperidol just to stay on the monitors.

- Haloperidol? - He becomes violently agitated.

He won't speak or sleep even when he's medicated.

There's activity in part of his brain they've never seen before.

Was his...?

Was his what?

I started to ask you a question about his prior mental state, but he anticipated it.

Second time.

Agent Mulder?

He claimed to be hearing voices.

I might know why Agent Mulder asked for me.

- Doesn't mean I can do anything for him. - What just happened?

I think he responded to a question that... I didn't ask.

I don't know how long we can keep him. We could be held responsible.

You asked me to come down here.

You better be prepared to accept the responsibility, Mr Skinner.

- You're going to inject him? - No. You are.

With a thousand milligrams of phenytoin.

I'm not injecting him with anything, not till after I talk to his doctor.

- He's being given the wrong treatment. - You're not a doctor.

But I've seen his condition.

Who do you wanna trust?

Seen it where?

In a study.

There's something like ESP called "remote viewing".

- Whose study? - The company's. The CIA, Mr Skinner.

Extreme subjects went into arrest,

their minds working harder than their bodies could sustain. They became all brain.

Phenytoin was the only thing that could slow the electrical impulses to a normal rate.

Agent Mulder knew about this.

That's why he asked for you.

They're coming.

- Who last saw him? - I'm looking.

- I find a patient missing, and nobody knew? - I just came on. Sorry.

Fox Mulder? He's restrained. He's not in his bed?

No. How many times can I say it?

He's right here.

- He wasn't here when I came in. - No, I just found him down the hall.

- I just got him back into bed. - Who are you?

I'm his boss. And hers.

I don't know how he could get up or pull all this stuff out.

Well, I hope someone's calling a doctor and making a report on this.

- He has got to remain in this bed. - I'll stay with him.

Agent Fowley, why don't you see if you can help her?

That's an order, Agent Fowley.

She knows.

- You can read her mind? - Yeah.

- We gotta act fast. - The doctor's on his way.

- No doctors. Get me Scully. - I don't know where she is.

Look, I know you've been compromised. I know Krycek is threatening your life.

Blackmailing you.

You don't think I can trust you, but it's not you that I need.

- Then who? - Him.

Kritschgau. Ask him to prove it.

- Prove what? - What's causing this.

It's a brain abnormality. It's how you're able to read minds.

What's causing this is alien. That's why my doctors can't help me.

I don't believe in aliens. I think you know that.

I do.

That's why I need you.

The work here is painstaking - a slow and tedious piecing together.

It appears to be a craft, its skin covered in the intricate symbols you and I both saw,

but which I now understand are part of a complex communication.

Dr Barnes has broken some of the symbols into letters using an ancient Navaho alphabet,

and though it has helped to uncover some of what's here,

it has also made for greater confusion.

On the top surface of the craft, I'm finding words describing human genetics.

Efforts to read the bottom of the craft have been harder.

Our workers were scared away by phenomena I admit I can't explain -

a sea of blood, a swarm of insects.

But what little we have found has been staggering -

passages from the Christian Bible, from pagan religions, from Ancient Sumeria.

Science and mysticism conjoined.

But more than words, they are somehow imbued with power.

I've ignored warnings to quit this work, remaining committed to finding answers,

afraid only that our secret here won't last, and that I might be too late.