From: Elizabeth Mackenzie Tobey <etobey@wam.umd.edu>
Date: Wed, 16 Jun 1999 17:25:02 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: "Southern Cross"

Title: "Southern Cross"
Author: Elizabeth Tobey
E-mail: etobey@wam.umd.edu
Rating: PG
Category: MSR, S
Spoilers: "X-Files:Fight the Future"
Summary: Written from Scully's point of view, this story attempts
to explain how she and Mulder got back from Antarctica.

 "Southern Cross"
                                 by, Liz Tobey

"When you see the Southern Cross for the first time
You understand now why you came this way
'Cause the truth you might be running from is so small
But it's as big as the promise, the promise of a comin' day."





                   - from the song "Southern Cross," by
Stephen Stills, Richard Curtis, and Michael Curtis; Gold Hill
Music, Inc. on Crosby, Stills, & Nash's "Daylight Again,"
1982, Atlantic Recording Company





      I am clinging to the very edge of the world.
      Cold.  It's so cold. Just leave me alone, Mulder.  Let
me rest here.  Just let me close my eyes for one moment.  I 
am so tired.  I can't move my limbs.  The thought is there, but my 
muscles just will not move.  It's as in a nightmare, where I lay in 
the path of something moving at me very fast, and it takes all
my strength just to roll out of the way.  
      I am so tired, Mulder.  Just let me be.
      I am drifting off now. I want to sleep.  I almost don't care
right now that I'm in the middle of nowhere.
      We're in the middle of nowhere.
      I open my eyes, turning my head slowly to the left.  Your
clothes are soaked, Mulder.  Your hair is beginning to freeze
into little spikes.  There's a stain on your left forehead. 
Someone has hurt you.
      You came all this way for me.
      You close your eyes and collapse on the snow.
      Energy comes from nowhere.  I reach out to you with
my whole body.  I drag myself close to you, fit myself around
you.  I'm suddenly on top of you, and I start to pull you over.
You're resting against my chest.  I nuzzle your wet, icy hair.
I kiss your head again and again.  It's almost as if I want
to reassure myself.  That you're still here with me.
      The ice begins to melt on my face, then evaporates in 
the freezing air.
      You press close to me, receiving my embrace. I know that
alone, we will freeze.  But together, there is heat. We will
survive.

   *     *     *      *      *       *       *      *         *

     I wanted to just stay there huddled with you, with no thought
of moving.  But as we lay there on that ice, Mulder, I realized 
that though we had already survived one ordeal, there was another
upon which our survival depended.  How to get home.
     It was you who finally spoke.
     "Did you see it, Scully?"
     "See what?" I answered, wondering if you were hallucinating.
     "The spaceship," you exclaimed. "It flew right out of the ice 
and over our heads. I saw it moving towards the horizon.  It 
*was* like a giant flying saucer.  Riding off into the sunset."
      This was not the time to argue with you about spaceships.  
"Speaking of sunsets, Mulder, do you know exactly where we
are?" I asked.
      "Near the bellybutton of the Earth," you laughed.  "To 
be exact, we're at 83 degrees south latitude, 63 degrees east
longitude.  Smack in the heart of Wilke's Land, Antarctica.  And
what a metropolis it is!"
      "And what time of year is it?" I tried to jog your memory.
      "Summer?"
      "We're in the Southern Hemisphere, Mulder.  Where the 
seasons are exactly opposite what they are in the Northern 
Hemisphere.  It's late summer in Washington, but here, we're
at the very end of winter.
      "Which means...?"
      "Which means we have very little daylight left before the
sun sets.  We need to find shelter, Mulder, before night comes,
or we will freeze to death."
      You looked at me with a smirk as if you were going to 
respond with a wisecrack, but instead, you were silent.  I could 
tell you were afraid.
      "Mulder, do you have a compass?"
      "I dropped my GPS monitor when I was trying to rescue you."
You paused. "Want to help me find where I parked my car?"
      I was curious.  "How exactly did you get here, Mulder?"
      "I borrowed a glorified snowplow from some geologists doing
research near here.  Do you want the long or the short story, Scully?"
      I looked at the streaks of pink beginning to bleed 
across the snow. "Explain it to me later," I answered.
      
      I stood up, feeling a sudden rush to my head and faintness
in my limbs.  My throat still ached from the tubes that had been
inserted in my esophagus and trachea during my captivity.  
      I looked over at you.  Your head was uncovered and unprotected
by your down vest and your layers of thermal clothing.
      When you had rescued me earlier that day and given me the
vaccine against the virus I carried, you had shed the outer layer
of your protective winter clothing.  You had extracted my naked and
shivering body from the gelatinous green liquid within the frozen
pod of ice, and had cIothed me in your snowsuit with the fur-lined
hood and put a dry pair of socks on my feet.    
      Heat will escape rapidly from an uncovered head.  I reached back
to find the snow hood covering my head.  Working blindly, I carefully
ripped the fur lining from the inside of the hood.  I then gathered 
the shell of the hood around my face as tightly as I could, leaving
as little of my face exposed to the cold as possible.  As you got up,
I took the fur lining and placed it on your head, fastening it with 
the snap under your chin.
      "Put on your gloves, Mulder," I ordered, pointed to your vest
pocket.  You fished out your gloves and shoved your hands into them.
      "I feel like a little kid," you said, grimacing.  "Scully,
you're not wearing any shoes.  Let me carry you."
      "Uh-uh, Mulder, no," I answered.  "I'll be fine." 
      You crouched down in front of me on your hands and knees.
      "C'mon, Scully, hop on!"
      "But Mulder," I protested, worrying you were too weak to
carry me any distance.
      "The Pony Express is leaving, Scully. C'mon."
      I sighed and gave in to you.  I placed each foot on 
either side of your kneeling back.  I wrapped my arms around
your shoulders and folded them around your chest. You lurched
upwards.  I suddenly remembered being given a ride on
a camel at an animal park when I was a child, and how the 
camel's sudden standing up from a sitting position had caused 
me almost to tumble off its hump.  I'm afraid to say, you weren't
much more comfortable.  
     You grabbed my ankles and anchored them around your waist for
balance.  You staggered forward in a choppy slow jog.
     I tried to retract my hands into the sleeves of the jacket,
for my fingers were rapidly becoming numb and white.
     "How's the view from up there, Scully?" you yelled from
below me.
     I could see that we were running past the edge of a 
gigantic crater in the ice.  The floor of the crater appeared
to be rough and made of rock.  Smoke and water vapor rose in
white plumes from the crater, like smoke from a smoldering
volcano.  "My God, Mulder, what happened there?"
     "That spaceship I just saw flying towards the horizon
was buried underground, Scully.  They were holding you and 
the bodies of the others in cold storage in the interior 
of the ship.  If I hadn't come in time, you might have 
made an unscheduled trip to the Milky Way."
      I wondered whether the cold had really gotten to your
head.  "Even if it were a spaceship, Mulder, why would they
hide it here where the weather is so inhospitable. I can 
think of many areas on the planet more temperate than this
one which would be more ideal for such a structure.  The 
Conspiracy can kidnap people and bury them underground in let's say,
Montana, and the hiding place could be just as easily undetected
there."
      "Refrigeration," you answered.  "They had to keep 
you and the other infected abductees at cool temperatures,
to slow down the gestation of the aliens within your
bodies."
      "That makes no sense, Mulder."  I may have been
infected with a bioengineered virus, but I certainly
had not been carrying some alien fetus.  "Why do you 
always have to make an already unreal situation even 
more bizarre?"
      You turned your head slightly back to look me in the
eye.  "Scully, the aliens plan to use the human race as
incubators for making baby aliens.
You and the others were just lunch meat for feeding
embryonic little ET's.  You may not remember it well, 
Scully, but when we were climbing out of the vent
today to get up from underground, the newborn aliens
were breaking out of the bodies in those ice pods.  
I know, because one of those babies grabbed
my ankle as we were trying to climb out of the vent."
You clawed at my ankle with your fingers, and I nearly
jumped off your shoulders.  
      "Stop it, Mulder!"
      "Of course, you don't believe me."
      We were heading across the snow towards a small ridge.
Behind the ridge, the sky was glowing a jewel-like orange
and pink.  
      "Where are we going, Mulder?" I asked, feeling 
totally lost.
      "That's where I left the snowmobile.  I remember
now, it's behind that ridge. What do you think, Scully?
Think we can make it before dark?"
      "We have to," I answered, trying not to betray the
fear in my voice.
       You were silent.
       As I clung to your back, I could hear you start
to wheeze with effort as you ran.  The dry snow beneath
your feet squeaked.  We were chasing the sun, but the 
sun was always a step ahead of us.  The orange-pink glow
was lowering like a curtain on the land, which was
deepening from snow white to aqua blue.  Even your form
beneath me began to lose all color, as dusk set in.
       We finally reached the ridge.  As you began to
climb the rocky slope, you started to stumble. I leaped
off your back.
       You fell back onto a rock, your face doubled up 
in pain.  You held your left ankle in your hands. 
       "Let me look at that, Mulder," I said, kneeling
down beside you.
       "I'll be all right, Scully," you said, trying to
ignore the pain.
       With my cold fingers,I felt your ankle through 
your socks.  I could not feel any break, but from the
look of pain on your face, I could see that it was 
probably a sprain. I slid my arm under yours and grabbed
your shoulder to steady you.  
   "Lean on me, Mulder," I ordered as I helped you get to 
your feet.  You leaned your weight into my side.
You limped while I pushed upwards, trying to limit the 
duration of contact between my unshod feet and the cold
rock.  My socks provided little insulation.   The cold 
was so intense on the soles of my feet that I might as
well have been walking across the hot surface of a stove.  
Somehow, we dragged ourselves upthat ridge, and found 
ourselves at the summit, staring down at the plain below.
       Below, barely silhouetted in the shadowed plain,
I spotted the abandoned snowmobile.

*      *       *      *       *       *       *        *

      "You left the keys in the ignition!" I yelled.
      "Who's going to steal a snowmobile out here?
This isn't downtown DC!"
       I pulled on the door, which had frozen shut.
"Come help me with this, Mulder." I gripped the handle
with one hand, the edge of the door with the other.
You placed your gloved hands on the edges.  We both 
pulled.  The door popped open.  I lost my balance and
fell backwards onto the snow.
      "You OK, Scully?" you asked.
      "Fine," I answered, brushing the snow off me.
      You had already dragged yourself into the
snowmobile's cabin.  I hoisted myself up after you.
Dusk had already almost dissolved into night.  There
was a line of fire on the horizon where the sun had just
set.  You fumbled for your flashlight.  Switching it on,
you staggered into the back of the snowmobile.
      "What are you looking for, Mulder?" I asked, eager
to depart.
       "Extra gas. The tank is empty."
      You emerged from the back a moment later with a red
plastic gas container in your hand.  "Lucky for us, it's
almost full," you said, jiggling it in your hand.
      "Here, Mulder, let me do this," I said, grabbing
the container from you. "Give me your gloves." You handed
them to me. I knew in this cold, one drop of spilled 
gasoline on bare skin could cause my whole hand to freeze
rapidly.  Putting on the gloves, I climbed out and down
from the vehicle with the container, sought the gas cap
in the back, unscrewed it carefully, and poured the 
precious fuel in the tank.
       When I returned to the driver's side door, you 
were already perched in the driver's seat.  "Uh-uh, buddy,"
I scolded.  "You're not driving this time. Not with a
sprained ankle." You groaned and reluctantly ceded the 
driver's seat, which you were so accustomed to taking
on our numerous assignments.  I climbed into the seat and
shut the door.  I had never driven anything larger
than a sports-utility vehicle, and felt dwarfed by the
extra-large dimensions of the seat.  Luckily, with my legs
stretched out, I could reach the pedals.  I turned the key
in the ignition.  The engine sputtered a few times, then
roared into life. I depressed the stiff clutch pedal and,
letting it out slowly, applied my right foot to the 
accelerator.  You reached out and pulled on the switch
for the headlights, which came flashing on.  The snowmobile
lurched forward and began crawling across the snow on its
tractor bands.  
       "We're in business, Mulder," I said excitedly.
       "The Beltway's just around the bend," you laughed.
"Just kidding.  You need to keep it going straight ahead, 
towards that notch in the hills."
       "Where, exactly are we headed, Mulder?"
       "I borrowed this baby from a group of American
geologists camped about forty miles from here.  They're
monitoring seismic instruments.  They've got to pick up
the noise from the spaceship's launch."
       "Did you tell them when you'd be returning?"
       "I told them I'd have it back by tomorrow 
morning," you answered.  "Otherwise, we have to pay for
another day."
       "Right, Mulder.  And I'm sure Budget was cheaper..."
        I heard the tractor bands crunch the snow beneath us as
we moved steadily into the Antarctic night.  For a few sublime
moments, I forgot how close we had come to freezing.  Gone for
a time were fears of dangers, dangers of travelling alone 
on the bottom of the world.  I still could not remember exactly
what had happened to me that day, or how I came to be 
transported against my will to this frozen place, nor exactly
how you had saved me. Only that you had.
       "Mulder, how did you ever find me here?" I asked.
       There was no answer. I looked over at the passenger's
seat. You had fallen sound asleep, a tired smile spread
across your face.

*        *          *        *          *        *         *
"Now!"
      I tried the ignition again. The motor sputtered and 
idled roughly. I could here the grating of pistons.
Then it died.
      "Try again," you ordered.
      I tried once more, but the engine stalled yet again.
I could smell a strong burning odor.
      "It's no use, Mulder," I said.  "The temperature's 
dropped, and the engine oil has congealed. It's not 
lubricating the engine.  Until it warms up, we're stuck.
How many miles do you think we are from the camp?"
      You squinted at the odometer. "I'd say seven or eight."
      "And how long until the sun rises?"
      "Scully, how should I know?  I don't have my watch
on me."
      I tried to figure it out in my head.  We had been 
driving for an hour and a half, maybe two hours at the most.
From what I had been taught in high school about the snowy
continent, at the South Pole itself, the sun shines in summer
continuously for half a year, and then, disappears for a
six month winter.  It was now August, which was late summer
back in Washington, but here in the southern hemisphere, the
season was equivalent to late February.  Since we were not as far
south as the Pole, we could expect, as we had already 
experienced, at least some daylight.  But my guess was that it 
could not be more than a couple hours.  Which meant that we
were in for the longest night of our lives.  I stared ahead
at the headlights illuminating the snow.
      "I hate to tell you this, Scully, but we have to turn
those off to save the battery." You shut off the knob.
Suddenly, we were surrounded by darkness.  It was only in
the ensuing minutes, as my eyes adjusted, that I could see
that the snow was not really dark, but reflected the stars.
And the heavens were filled with them. I looked for Orion,
I looked for the Big Dipper.  But they were nowhere to be
found.   Then I remembered that we were under a whole 
different celestial pattern.
      "See anything you recognize?" you asked.
      I slid down into the seat so that I was staring up
at the very top part of the windshield.  Sure enough, I 
saw the one Southern constellation I recognized from junior year
astronomy class. Two bright stars aligned on a long axis,
while two other bright stars traversed it in an arm.  A
smaller star twinkled under the right arm.  They formed 
the shape of a cross.
      "Look, Mulder, it's the Southern Cross!  I've never
seen it before."
      From the passenger's seat, I heard your voice break
out into grating, almost adolescent singing:

"When you see the Southern Cross for the first time
You understand now why you came this way..."

      "Mulder!!!"
      You just kept on singing.

"...Spirits are using me, larger voices calling,
What heaven brought you and me cannot be forgotten..."

      "Mulder, stop it!" I said, putting my hands over
my ears.
      "Don't you like Crosby, Stills, and Nash?" you
laughed.
      "Not when you're singing it, Mulder."
      "Hey, Scully, it fits the mood right about now.
And besides, we're not waking the neighbors!"

"I have been arouunnnnddd the world
Looking for that woman-girl,
Who knows love can endure...
And you know it will...
           And you know it will......"
   
      "Mulder, enough!!!" I shushed.  "Besides, you
shouldn't be wasting your time serenading me.  We've
got to figure out how to stay warm."

      "That's not too hard to figure out, Scully."
You raised your eyebrows.

      "Seriously, Mulder.  Did they give you any 
equipment?"

      "I'll check in the back." You ambled towards the
back part of the snowmobile. "The guys at the research
camp told me of a standard fifty-five pound survival
bag that they take on all their trips away from the
permanent research stations.  They told me that some
friends of theirs survived once for thirty days on one
bag once when they got stranded.  It should contain a
tent, a small stove, freeze-dried food, a first-aid kit, some
flares... and...if we get lucky, a couple of sleeping
bags. "
      "If we get lucky..?" I teased.
      "I said a *couple* sleeping bags, Scully.  Unless
they're trying to tell me something."
       I could see you tugging something from underneath
a box.  "We're in luck, Scully." You began to open a canvas
sack.  I saw the two sleeping bags, made of space-aged 
foil thread.  They looked like silver cocoons.  You then
pulled out a tiny stove, some matches, flares, and a bag
full of what I guessed was food.
       "Scully, you go set one of these off outside,"
you said, handing me a flare.  "Just leave dinner to me.
You are in for a treat."

*       *        *         *         *          *        *

       "There's nothing like a tin of freeze-dried Spam
on a beautiful winter's night," you exclaimed, raising the
fork of your opened Swiss-army knife.
       "Heavenly," I answered, the salty taste of the freeze-
dried meat still on my lips.   We had not dare light the 
stove inside the snowmobile, and the wind had picked up
considerably outside.  This was no night for a campfire.
       "Brandy?" you offered, holding out a flask after
taking a swig.
       "Mulder, you know that alcohol is the worst thing
you could possibly drink when it's cold outside! And you
have a head injury!"
       "If the Saint Bernards carry it, it works for
me," you said, taking another swig before hiding the flask
in your vest pocket.
       After finishing our meal, I felt incredibly chilled.
The snow had encrusted my socks during our walk over the
ridge.  I reclined in the back seat with my feet tucked
under me to warm them.
       "Mulder."
       "Yes, Scully,"
       "I'm cold."
       "I can take care of that."  You put down your meal,
and reached out for one of the sleeping bags.  "Stretch out
your legs, Scully."
       I painfully extended my legs.  My feet felt almost
completely numb, and very heavy, as if they had fallen
asleep.  You skillfully pulled the end of the sleeping 
bag around my feet and my legs, until I was able to grab
the edge and pull it around my chest.
       "Now, it's my turn." You grabbed the other bag
and stepped into it.  "Red rover, red rover, Agent Scully,
roll over!" you ordered, as I rolled towards the seatback to
make room for you. You stretched out in your sleeping bag
beside me.  
       "Comfy," you asked, raising an eyebrow.
       "Never been better," I muttered.   I was facing
you.  I could see your breath escaping from your mouth,
turning into white vapor against the backdrop of the 
Antarctic constellations.   Though you seemed exhausted,
your eyes glimmered.
       I could feel small traces of warmth growing to fill
the space between us.  I reached my hands out of my bag to 
pull you closer to me.  I let my hands remain in the top
of your sleeping bag, resting underneath the down of your
vest.  I wondered whether, if given the choice, I would
let myself get this close to you.  But now, it was a matter
of necessity.  That's what I told myself.
       You cradled my head beneath your chin.  "I'm not
much for pillow talk, Scully."
       "Doesn't matter, Mulder," I answered.  "But you
could explain to me how we got here...."
       "Long or short version, Scully?"
       "We've got all night, so go ahead."
       "Okay, here's the whole truth," you said,
turning your face to look at me.  "We were in my hallway when 
the bee stung you, and you went into shock..."
       "Mulder, I remember that part." I smiled at you.  That part 
was hard not to remember.  Before that bee interrupted us, in a moment of 
high emotion, we had almost kissed.  On the lips.
       You looked at me sheepishly.  "I'd better
leave that part out.  I called 911, an ambulance team came,
but when I went to ask the driver what hospital they were 
taking you to, he shot me in the forehead.  I woke up in the
hospital with Langley, Byers, Frohike, and Skinner by my 
bedside."
       "And I suppose Skinner told you to stay put?!" I mused.
Our supervisor was always trying to keep you in line, but you
were always breaking his rules.       
       "Of course,"  you exclaimed.  "But I didn't listen.
I snuck out of the hospital wearing Byers' suit, and I went
to find Kurtzweil in that bar downtown.  I thought he might
know where they might have taken you."
        I remembered you told me about the gray-haired informant.
He had led us to discover the Conspiracy's plot to take over
the planet using a powerful bioengineered virus.
that would be released on a vast scale. "And did you find him?"
       "When I got there, that old British guy from the 
Conspiracy, the same one who once warned you that your life
was in danger, was shutting the trunk of his limo. I have a 
feeling that Kurtzweil was in that trunk."
       "And did you get *into* that limo, Mulder?"
       "He offered the chance to find you... so I had no 
choice. That virus that you contracted, Scully, it's actually the
aliens' means of reproduction."
       "Oh, brother." This was too much for me to handle.
       "Listen, Scully.  The aliens are plotting to colonize
the planet.  That virus infects the human body, causing the
alien fetus to grow inside, digesting human tissue as the
fetus gestates.  When the fetus emerges, it kills the human
host.  Now the Conspiracy doctors had developed a vaccine
to protect themselves from the virus.  They felt that by
collaborating with the aliens in their takeover of the 
planet, they could save themselves. But that British gent
realized what the aliens were up to, and that the 
conspiracy was being led down a path of betrayal by their
alien collaborators.  I could sense that he wanted out."
       "Mulder, he could have killed you!!!" I was shocked
by your audacity.
       "He told me that the Conspiracy had ordered him to shoot me.
But instead, he shot the driver.  He gave me a vaccine that 
his group has developed. And he gave me the coordinates of 
where to find you.  He said I must find you and inject you with
the vaccine in order to save your life."
       I was confused.  "What ever possessed him to help
you, Mulder?"
       "Maybe for the same reason that he warned you, 
Scully.  The Conspiracy is the worst kind of evil.  But
I think our friend realized their insanity.  Maybe he
was afraid for his own children and grandchildren,
knowing that they would not have a future if the aliens
succeeded in their colonization plans. That he could no
longer collaborate with them.  And that the vaccine was the
planet's only hope."
       "At least we know we have one of them on our side."
       "He's gone, Scully.  The limo blew up the moment I
got out and slammed the door.  I think they meant to kill
him as well as me."
       "So how did you ever find me here?"
       "I figured from the latitude and longitude that you were 
somewhere in Antarctica. I called Senator Matheson and told
him that I needed to get down here to investigate an
unknown biohazard.  He got me on a flight to South America,
where I was able to hook up with an Argentinian medical
team which was making an emergency flight to the continent.
Usually, they try to avoid flying to Antarctica during the
winter months, but the medical team had received a call from
one of their research stations.  One of their geologists
had developed liver problems while on winter duty at an
American research camp in Wilke's Land, and he needed to be
evacuated to a hospital.  So I begged them to let me join
their flight.  When I landed in Wilke's Land, I explained
to the researchers that I had to locate a stranded friend who
was observing southern constellations for the Center 
for Astrophysical Research in Antarctica...."
       "Dammit, I'm a doctor, not an astronomer, Mulder!" I 
reminded you.
       "I had to make up a story," you protested.  "They
bought it, so they lent me one of their snowmobiles on 
condition that I brought it back to them this evening."
       "I think you missed your deadline, Mulder.  I
don't think they are going to want to take a midnight
ride to find us."
        "Well, then, Scully, I suggest we get some sleep."
       "You sleep, Mulder, I'm going to stay awake."  I 
feared that if I fell asleep, I might never wake up.
       "Have it your way, Scully."  You lay your head 
back on the seat and closed your eyes.  My head rested
on your chest.  Through the padding of the sleeping bag and
your jacket, I could hear faintly that mysterious stirring.
It was steady, like footsteps in the snow.

    *        *         *         *         *              *

       I knock urgently on your door.  There is no
answer.  I try again. No response.  You are supposed
to answer, Mulder.   I grow impatient, then frantic,
as I hear a struggle coming from your apartment, and
I hear you cry for help.  I swing my foot forward and
 begin to kick the door.  "Mulder," I yell,"Mulder,
are you all right?"  I hear you screaming out for help.
The door is jamming.  My foot is hitting so hard
it starts to bleed.  I finally kick the door open...

      "Jesus, Scully," you moaned, shaking me awake.
You reached out your hand to stop my knee from 
pummeling you again in the thigh.  "When did you earn
your black belt in karate?!"

      "Oh, Mulder, I'm sorry." I could feel pain shoot
up from my feet.  I realized that my feet had received
partial frostbite.  Through the heat of the sleeping
bags, they had begun to thaw.  And it was painful.  I
moaned. 
   
      "What's wrong, Scully?"

      "My feet." I had horrid visions of the flesh of
my feet turning black and falling off, leaving me only
bony stubs to walk on.  I tried to erase the grisly 
image from my mind.

      "Shhh,Scully," you said, stroking my hair, which
had become frosted with ice.  I searched for the stars 
through the snowmobile's window, but could not see them.
Hours of our breath had frosted them so that they were
opaque like isinglass.

       "Scully, it's going to be okay.  We're going to
get out of this." Your hands were cold but gentle on my
face.  I remembered what they say about cold hands...

       I bit my lip to try to anchor the pain.  "Mulder..."
I cried out.

       "Scully, hang in there." You reached into your sleeping
bag and pulled something out of your vest pocket.  " I have
something for you." You held up something shiny and light.
I could barely make out what it was.  I reached out to finger
it.
        It was my cross.  Once again, you had brought it back
to me.  I kissed your chin gratefully.
       "Scully?"
       "Yes?"
       "Are you familiar with the nature of thoughts?"
       "Thoughts," I questioned, trying to push aside the
fog in my brain.
       "Are they physical or ephemeral, you tell me?"
       "Well, Mulder, if you want to get technical, thoughts
are actually physical charges in the brain."
       "Scully?"
       "Yes?"
       "Is love a thought or a feeling?"
       Damn my feet.  "Depends on how you see it, Mulder.
But I guess that feelings don't just come from nowhere. The
brain has to process them somehow.  As conscious, or 
unconscious, for that matter, thoughts."
       "So," you continued.  "If thoughts are physical, and
love is a thought, does that mean that all love is physical?"
       "You tell me, Mulder, " I said, trying hard to smile.
I hugged you close and cradled you in my arms.   
       We held each other like that for a long time, before I got up
the courage to speak.
       "Mulder?"
       "Yes, Scully?"
       "I think I remember your telling me in the hallway,
before all this happened, that I had somehow saved you."
       "You have, Scully," you answered.  "Believe me."
       The words tried to swim to the surface of my brain.
They hovered right below.  I was just trying to coax them.
       "Mulder," I started.  "...There have been so many
times in my life when I've been on the verge of just letting
go.  It happened following my abduction years ago, when I was
in a coma.  It happened last year when I was dying of cancer.
It even happened today out on the ice.  I'm still very 
confused about what has happened to me in the past few days,
from the moment that the bee stung me in your hallway to 
when you rescued me today.  I don't even remember how they
brought me down here.  Today, I almost faded away.  But I 
couldn't let go with you near, Mulder.  You saved me,
Mulder.  Somehow I knew you were thinking of me."
       "Scully," you answered, "there's nothing ephemeral
about my feelings for you." You smiled, and kissed my 
cheek.
       "Mulder," I turned my head to look you directly in
the face. "Are you *really* sorry about what happened 
between us in your hallway?"
       "Are you, Scully?" You looked scared for a moment.
       "Not one bit, Mulder."  
       Maybe the cold was getting to me and clouded my
judgment, for it was not the time and place for romantic
longings, only for survival.  But it had been a long time
since I had done what I had decided I was about to do.  I
pursed my lips and drew closer to you, touching them to 
your lips so softly trembling.
       Then a bright swath of light cut across our faces.
I squinted to block out its brightness. Our faces drew
abruptly apart.
       "Anyone home?" a voice boomed in a thick Southern
drawl from outside the snowmobile window. There was some
noise, and then the door flew open.
       Three men stood huddled in the vehicle's doorframe.
The center man held a bright flashlight.
       "Excuse us, Agent Mulder, I hope we're not 
interrupting something."
       "She's your astronomer?  Well I'll be..." said the
man to his left.
       "I'm a doctor. Dr. Dana Scully." I said, trying to
sit up. I winced when I felt my feet.
	You interjected, "She has frostbite on both of her
feet.  She needs treatment right away!"
        "Easy, doctor, we're going to take good care of you."
The center man yelled back over his shoulder.
"This woman needs medical attention.  Radio McMurdo 
immediately to send the LC-130 in!"  I heard a motor of
a snowmobile running outside.  They had come to rescue us.
        "We've got to get her some help, Agent Mulder," said
the center man.  "Get the stretcher," he ordered the other two.
They came back carrying a plastic plank.  I felt them carefully
slide me onto it and strap me securely.  You hovered over
me, your face pale and worried.
       "Don't worry, Scully, I'll stay with you. "  I felt 
myself being lifted out into the cold air, which came as
a complete shock.  My breathing came in sharp bursts.  I was
staring straight up at the sky at that Southern Cross.  I lay face
to face with that great constellation, and I felt humbled.
It seemed fainter and further away than it had appeared 
earlier that evening.
       Then I turned my head towards the horizon as they 
lifted me towards the awaiting snowmobile.  A thin orange
line streaked on the horizon.
       Daylight had finally come.

*           *             *             *            *

I sat, leaning against your chest, with my knees bent,
my feet submersed in two plastic buckets of tepid water.  You
had not left me during the entire thawing process.  You 
held a blanket wrapped around me.  I looked up at the strange
plastic dome that we sat within.  The interior was crowded
with sleeping bags and blankets, canned and boxed supplies,
and what seemed to be sensitive portable measuring devices.

     "How's Doctor Scully doing?"  I recognized Dr. Curry, the
head geologist and leader of the team that had rescued us.
He was a big, burly man with wiry black hair and  beard.  
"We were real worried about you, but I think you'll be fine. 
You got a touch of frostbite on your feet.  The doctor at
McMurdo can take a look at it, but it seems pretty mild. I've
seen a lot worse."

     He knelt down next to us.  "I apologize to you all
for this mess in my lab.  Last night before sundown, I was
taking my measurements and my equipment registered this
seismic blast that was different from anything I have ever 
recorded. I almost thought it was volcanic, but it didn't 
behave like any volcano I've ever seen."

     "I'm sure Dr. Scully can concur with me that what
you registered was not of this earth," you said. "Right,
Scully, " you winked at me.

     I was not sure what to say to them.  " I couldn't say
for certain what your equipment registered."

     "Say, how long have you been with C.A.R.A.?" Dr. Curry
asked.

     "What?" I asked, puzzled.

     "She's one of the founding members," you piped up.  I
begged you'd change the subject, diverting attention from
your fabricated story.  "So, how do we get out of here?"
you asked our host.

      "I radioed to McMurdo Research Station on the coast
to fly in their LC-130 plane. They usually don't fly in
this time of year, but because this is an emergency, they'll
attempt to land tomorrow right around dawn.  They'll
take you back to Williams Field near McMurdo Research Station.
We have two hundred-fifty people wintering over at the station,
and there's a damn good doctor their who can look you over
before you head for home.  When you're recovered enough, they'll
fly you to Christchurch in New Zealand, and from there, you 
can catch a flight to the captital and then back to the States."

      I sipped the warm tea that the geologists had prepared 
for me.

     "Thank you for saving us."

     "It's nothing, ma'am. It's nothing at all."

*           *             *             *             *
I stood arm in arm with you outside of the domed tent,
as we watched the LC-130 coming in for landing.  For a 
winter's day in Antarctica, it was almost balmy.  I almost
wondered how I would adjust to Washington's brutal heat.

      The plane skimmed close to the ground, bounced upon 
the snow and back into the air, then touched the ground 
again. I saw that its landing gear consisted of a pair of skis,
rather than wheels.  The skis kept their contact, and the
plane glided to a stop not far from where we stood.

     I strode forward in the fur-lined men's boots that
the geologists had presented to me.  It was the smallest
pair they could find, but they still engulfed my feet.
One of the scientists had sewn a logo, with the Southern
Cross upon it, onto my boot. They had told me proudly it
was the C.A.R.A. logo.  Oh well, I thought, let them 
believe at least one myth about me.

    You walked beside me, Mulder, letting me lean into
you. Your forehead was bandaged and no longer so  
alarming a sight.  Your ankle was wrapped in an ace bandage.  
I could not fathom how you could still stand up, though, 
for you had not slept since the night we spent in the
snowmobile.  You were very quiet.

     Suddenly, the whirring of the plane's engines slowed and 
stopped.

      "That's strange," said Dr. Curry, wondering aloud.
"I was told that you would be taking off immediately.  Why 
isn't he just letting it idle?"


     Dr. Curry motioned to us to follow him towards the
plane.  We followed behind him, ready to board the 
aircraft.  The pilot opened the forward door of the
plane and let down the ladder.  I grabbed its railing, and
we prepared to ascend its steps.

     The pilot, a wiry blond man with a windburnt face,
bounded down the steps of the ramp.  Confused, we stepped 
aside. His face bore an expression of wonderment.  We followed
him as he walked towards Dr. Curry.

     He addressed Dr. Curry with a vaguely Australian 
accent.  "Curry!  You won't believe what I saw!  It's 
bloody amazing."

     "What is it, Sam?" Dr. Curry asked urgently.

     "A great big hole in the earth! About forty miles
from here.  Not too far from that rocky ridge on the 
edge of the valley.  And it wasn't here the last time I flew 
in here."

      "Funny," said Dr. Curry,"My guests here say they
were travelling in that area the other day.  Agent Mulder,
didn't you tell me that you came across some sort of 
crater?"

      "We encountered a crater several hundred yards in 
diameter not far from where Dr. Scully was making her 
observations,"  you said.  "It appeared to have been
recently created, since smoke and vapor was still 
emerging from its interior.  I'm inclined to believe that
what caused this crater was not of this earth.  That it
may have come from outer space..."

      I feared you were coming dangerously close to 
revealing your theory that an alien spaceship had been
embedded in the ice and had subsequently taken off.  As 
kind as these scientists appeared to be, I worried that
your theories might prove too much for even them, and 
might cause them to consider us insane.  I grabbed your
hand to get your attention.  In mid-sentence, you turned
to look at me.  I shot you a warning glance, and as 
inobtrusively as I could, raised a gloved finger towards
my lips to quiet you.

     Luckily, in all the years we have worked together,
Mulder, we've managed to master each other's body 
language, often communicating whole sentences in gestures,
nudges, and glances.  You knew immediately not to mention
the spaceship.  I saw your eyes searching for a way out
of your explanation.  

     "...In fact," you said, after a short pause that 
seemed more reflective than tentative, "...I think the
crater could have been caused by a meteorite's impact."

      "My god!, " said the pilot.  "Curry, what can you
tell us about meteorites?"

      "We're in luck, Sam.  Dr. Scully here is one of the
world's premier astronomers. She's a founding member of 
C.A.R.A.   What's your opinion, Dr. Scully,"

      I felt my already sore throat become tight with 
panic.  Whatever I had learned about meteorites came 
from a basic astronomy course that I had taken during my
junior year in high school.  Panicked, I gave you another
look, this time begging you to say something clever.

      "She was up all last night talking to me about
meteorites," you said, a wide grin spreading across your
face.  "This continent actually has a history of 
meteorite impacts.  The meteorite ALHA 81005 which landed
in Antarctica had a composition similar to moon rocks.
Scientists think that it may have actually been a small
piece of the moon that fell to earth, a crumb of green
cheese, you might say.  Perhaps a meteorite could have
caused a crater of that size..."

      Dr. Curry interrupted.  "Earlier in the evening of 
the night I rescued Agent Mulder and Dr. Scully, I 
recorded startling data from that region on my geological 
monitoring equipment.  The data indicated that something
must have emerged from the earth at an incredible speed,
rather than impacting it at high speed..."

     "...As I was saying, " you continued, "...although
a meteorite could have caused a crater of that size, it 
seems that Dr. Curry is correct that something did come
out of the earth."

     I felt like I needed to contribute something to 
this dialogue.  "Could it have been some sort of dormant
volcano, Dr. Curry?"

     "Impossible, " he answered.  "If a volcano had 
exploded anytime recently, we'd be sweeping the ash 
with brooms.  Besides, that part of the valley is 
flat, and there are no volcanoes in that area to my
knowledge.  Without seeing the crater, I can't make
a final judgment about it, but from what you've all
told me, it's unlike anything in the natural world.
In fact, as you said earlier, Agent Mulder, it's almost
otherworldly..."

      I wanted to nip this in the bud.  "How long will
it take us to travel to McMurdo?"

      The pilot smiled at me. "Eager to leave, eh?  It's
about two and a half, three hours."  He looked at his
watch. "I guess the sooner we leave, the better, with
daylight in short supply. Curry, I have some supplies
for you that the boys at McMurdo wanted you to have.
Why don't I get those from the cargo palette so we can 
get under way."

      Curry and Sam headed back towards the plane to 
retrieve the supplies.  I exhaled a breath of relief
and fell back against your chest.

     "Saved you, didn't I?" you said, gloating.

     "Mulder," I said emphatically. "How the hell
did you know the name of that meteorite?"

     "I'm an F.B.I. agent, not an astronomer," you
answered, pulling a book out of the zippered 
duffel bag you were carrying.  I bent over to read
the title, one I hadn't seen in years.  It was a 
dog-eared copy of "Discovering Astronomy."

     "Curry gave it to me to read," you chuckled.
"You should take a look at it sometime, Scully.
Makes good bedtime reading."  You winked at me
invitingly.

      Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Curry and 
the pilot coming toward us. "Mulder," I spoke to 
get your attention.  We both turned to face the 
approaching men.  Curry dragged a large canvas
sack filled with supplies.  The pilot carried a 
wooden crate that appeared to be filled with bottles
of beer.

      The pilot nodded at us.  "As they say in 
America, it's Miller Time!"

      We quickly gathered our things, including a 
bag full of charts and data that Curry had asked
us to give to a geologist at the base.  The pilot
and Curry emerged from the domes, Curry with an
opened bottle of beer in his gloved hand.  He held
it aloft as we joined him in the walk towards the
plane's ramp.

      "To our guests, Agent Mulder and Dr. Scully,"
he toasted.  "May your stars shine brightly. And Dr. Scully,
please send my regards to my C.A.R.A. friends at 
McMurdo!!"

     "I will." The pilot climbed up the ramp and 
headed into the cockpit. You began to follow him,
and I followed right on your tail.

     Dr. Curry hollered after us.  "It's not
first class, but I'm sure you'll be comfortable.
And no funny business back there, do you hear?"

     You turned to me and whispered in my ear, "My 
lips are sealed."



                 - THE END-