Fallen Angel
Out of favour
Chorus:
Here in exile
But it wasn't always this way
In the communications tower, the young lieutenant was staring at the radar
screen suspiciously. He knew exactly what the oddly-behaving object he'd
been tracking was. He looked up as the general leaned over his shoulder.
"Sir? What do you want me to do?"
"Do? Nothing, for now. Just keep an eye on it."
"This is the fifth one in the last two days. What shall I put in the
report?"
The general grimaced. "You aren't going to be making any report on this
one. I shouldn't have to tell you that."
The lieutenant swallowed. "Sir, it's accelerating rapidly..." His voice
trailed away as they both watched it increase to over 350kph and then
abruptly hang. It was almost as if the object appeared stuck on the screen.
"What the hell?" the lieutenant breathed. It looked as if the object was
suspended in mid-air, stationary even as it retained its altitude.
Suddenly, two fighter jets appeared, designated US Air Force, and before
their very eyes, the object disappeared. It reappeared, and then the screen
blipped, as if they had lost power or experienced an electrical surge. It
looked as though the jets were trying to intercept. Neither man knew how to
work out what had just happened.
Although the lieutenant tried to raise the pilots, there was no response and
the jets tracked off the screen without further action. But it had appeared
as though they might have fired upon the object.
He raised his eyes to the general's, who met his gaze squarely. An unspoken
understanding passed between them. He cleared his throat. "N-Nothing to
report, sir."
"Good." The general straightened and sighed. He turned to go but said over
his shoulder, "Somebody's ass is in a sling, that's for sure. I'm going to
make sure it isn't ours."
General John Linden made his way to the empty office and sat down heavily
before picking up the red phone. "Hello? Put me through to line five." He
waited. "Steve? It's John. Hey, how you doin'? It's been a while. Listen,
we've got ourselves a bit of a situation here at the dig. As of this
moment, it looks like Operation Fallen Angel is officially re-opened.
Someone just shot one down right over us. Yeah, right over our goddamned
heads. Yeah, I know. I don't know who the hell ordered it—it certainly
didn't go by me. It's gonna be a real shit-storm unless we get this
contained, fast. We're going to need cover. Thanks. Yeah. Thanks, Steve,
I appreciate that."
Mulder looked up at Scully who was frowning down at him. "We have to go to
Wyoming." He shoved the file Krycek had given him across to her.
She turned her frown to the file as she scanned its contents. She sighed.
"Mulder, please don't tell me you want us to go hunting dwarves in the
mountains."
"Scully, you don't understand. This is hot. The guys just called me;
Langley said two Air Force jets shot down an unidentified craft right over
this same archeological site last night. They intercepted a military
communication to someone here in D.C.," he carefully ignored her skeptically
raised brow, as he continued, "and it gets weirder. I had the information
verified; there really is an anthropological team that was digging around in
the foothills of the Beartooth Range—only their findings have been
suppressed and their research shut down. Something to do with mining rights
and environmental pressure from The Nature Conservancy, a group that have
been trying to cite the Endangered Species Act on unnecessary drilling and
scientific surveys in the wild. It's obviously a cover."
"Mulder, this isn't an X-File, it isn't even a case. And—and even if it's
scientific or military, it's none of our business." Scully had her
long-suffering tone, trying to reason with him.
"Aren't you even curious?" Mulder looked up at her, feeling a bit squashed
by her complete lack of enthusiasm. He should be used to her lukewarm
responses by now. Still, it always stung a little when she pulled her
skeptic's hood over her head and pretended that there was nothing there. He
knew that something was up. And for Krycek to risk approaching him on the
flight last week to give him this information... It was certainly tugging at
his instincts. "Scully, something incredible is going on and I intend to
find out what it is. I'm going out there, whether in an official capacity
or not."
She sighed. "Another wild chase across the country after lights in the sky?
And little dwarf bodies? Mulder, how do you know that these aren't hoaxes?
Many—" she paused, trying to gather her wits and momentum, "There are many
cases of so-called ancient skulls and bodies that have been proven to be
merely well-executed fakes devised by people desperate to make a name for
themselves in the archaeological community—"
Mulder stood up suddenly, interrupting her. "I know, I know. It's probably
nothing. But I already booked us two seats to Billings, Montana and a
charter flight to Cody, Wyoming. I have to check this out. If you don't
want to come, I guess I'll be doing this one alone."
Scully stared at him, refusing to be cowed by his usual display of stubborn
insistence. "Fine. I hope you find something, I really do. I'd hate for
you to be disappointed and end up with nothing, yet again. Mulder, I admire
your persistence. You know I do. But chasing after every shadow, after
every wild story—it just... Mulder, I can't understand why you're going off
like this based only on some pretty pictures and inconclusive rumors of
military activity. It just seems like a lot of expense and energy for
nothing."
Mulder suppressed the urge to raise his voice and patiently said, "In 1932,
gold prospectors blasting in a gully in the Pedro Mountains of Wyoming, 60
miles from Casper, found a fourteen-inch high mummy. Scientists who studied
it said it was a pygmy, maybe of some obscure, ancient Indian race, perhaps
a forerunning ancestor. It was in a ceremonial burial ground. It was
displayed in sideshows for years and then disappeared but its authenticity
was attested to by every single expert who studied it." He picked up a file
from under a pile of others and opened it. A stark black and white photo
showed the Pedro Pygmy Mummy. It resembled a wizened, little old man.
"They reckoned he was about 65 when he died."
Scully pursed her lips, scowling slightly. "Interesting. But what does
this have to do with military jets over another site?"
Mulder was getting excited. "Can't you see? They keep finding mummified
little bodies of some ancient pygmy race. The Indians of the area have
numerous legends, about cradle-snatchers, evil dwarves and ugly little men
who terrified them. All in mountainous regions in Wyoming." He turned and
picked up another file, slapping it down in front of her, ignominiously.
"Another case, this time in Coffee County, Tennessee. An ancient graveyard,
containing over 75,000 pygmy skeletons, all buried in a sitting or standing
position."
Scully looked back up at him, with a slight smile. "I know what you're
going to say. That maybe the sightings of small 'alien' beings and little
people that have been reported for hundreds of years can be attributed to a
race of underground pygmies. That they've been dwelling under our very
noses all this time, hidden out of sight."
"Exactly! This might be what we've been waiting for. Proof, Scully! Proof
of these beings—only the military doesn't want the public to panic,
thinking that we've got dwarves living amongst us. Some of the Indian
legends of these pygmies are frightening."
"Well, it's Friday. I guess if you really want to go off chasing little
people, you have the time to do it. I said I'd go visit my mother this
weekend. I'll have my cellphone if you want to reach me on that number."
Mulder ignored her flippant answer and grinned at her. "Cover for me, for
the rest of today?"
"Sure. I won't tell Skinner what you're doing, though. He'd skin me, in
your absence. I'll say you've gone off on a hiking trek in the wilds.
You'll need hiking boots, you know."
"Yeah, I know. I'm already packed."
Scully heaved another sigh. "Good luck, Mulder. Have fun."
As the tapping of her heeled feet echoed away out of the basement office and
down the corridor, Mulder realized there was nothing keeping him from
leaving immediately. He purposefully gathered up all the files and left the
office, himself.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, Mulder moved from being a contemplated
daydream in the back of my mind to a wish, a high-flying dream that sang
with the poignantly sweet call of something 'better', something I could feel
prodding insistently in the night, or when I was alone. Then he became a
need, a desire. A necessity in my life that nothing could assuage.
Finally, he became a dangerous distraction. Entirely too dangerous. I
can't afford it. And it was so stupid to give in to the impulse of the
moment, on that plane. Unutterably stupid. Never mind that it provided me
with endless dreams that are vividly more satisfying and hours of fantasy
fuel. Still, I never intended to give away so much. I can only hope that he
didn't see how much I really wanted it, given to his propensity for denial
and his absolute imperative in insisting that I'm merely a cold-blooded
manipulative liar.
I'm starting to regret giving him that information. It was sensitive, and
the people I stole it from were mightily pissed. I had hoped that he would
call enough public attention to the site to get them to close it down.
Turns out we didn't have to do anything. Some fat fool, in an ambitious
gesture no doubt merely aimed at sending a message to his opposition,
decided to take out one of the grays' craft—right over the site. It got
it the situation the attention we wanted but entirely the wrong kind. Now
I'm up to my neck in extra-terrestrial politics and attempts to instigate
reparative compensation. 'Just because'. I happen to be the only guy
around with enough experience to negotiate multi-racial talks between our
government, their government, our factions, their factions, the individuals
responsible for the snafu, the individuals covering our ass, the people
covering their own asses... It's a fucking circus.
And there isn't anyone else. No one else has the same level of experience
and accumulated knowledge of the situation. No one else who actually knew
what the Consortium had been up to. No one else who could represent
anything beyond a mirror of the previous Syndicate agenda. Which means it's
up to me. Again. I wonder how many times I'm going to have to clean up
other people's messes. I wonder how many more times I'll have to shoulder
the responsibility. I wonder how much convincing it would take to get Mulder
to trade jobs with me... I wonder how I could convince him to work with me. I
could do with the help. Yeah, and pigs might fly.
Driving the rental car along the dusty dirt road into the hills that lay at
the foot of the impressive dark-blue mountains of the Beartooth Range,
Mulder was beginning to wonder at the lack of military presence. Indeed,
any presence. The entire community of Clark seemed sparse and composed
merely of lone houses and mobile homes scattered along the edge of dirt
roads like the one he was on, a good several miles between each residence.
The long drive from Cody, around the peak of Heart Mountain that now lay on
the southern horizon on the distance, had left him travel-weary.
Particularly after the flight he'd just made. The landscape was dry and the
scrub and sagebrush hid clumps of prolific pear cactus with red-tipped
needles. The occasional dust devil or whirlwind could be seen traveling
along the same dirt roads that he was exploring, miniature tornados blowing
tumbleweeds before them.
As he coasted along the dirt road, the loud ratcheting noise of hovering
grasshoppers reminded him of rattlesnakes shaking their rattlers. It was
rather disconcerting. But the smell of the sagebrush everywhere was pungent
in the heat.
He saw a man fixing a barbed wire fence, working away under the afternoon
sun. Stopping the car, he got out and approached him. "Hi. I'm looking
for the Leroy Ranch. Could you tell me if I'm on the right track?"
The man stopped and took off his cowboy hat, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Hi, there. It's right up that way," he turned and pointed north, along
the same road Mulder was on. "You're right near Sugarloaf, here." He
indicated the flat-top mesa hill that rose up pale against the prairie to
their left. "Just keep on this road. It gets kinda steep and rough, the
road does. You one of those surveyors?"
Mulder stopped. "No, I'm here about the archeology site. Do you know
anything about that?"
The man started chuckling. "Oh, boy. You're gonna get more than you
bargained for. The government came in and shut them down. Word gets around
fast here; people are complaining that it ain't fair to put up No
Trespassing signs on private property. Dan Leroy was really pissed when he
found out the government was sealing off whole chunks of his own acreage."
Mulder made a sympathetic expression, nodding. "I'll bet. I'm here to get
the scoop on what's happening. I heard they discovered some kind of old
Indian burial ground."
"Naw, it was bodies. Little, funny-looking bodies. I'm not kidding; you
ask anyone else around. It was creepy."
Mulder realized he had one of the local gossips and decided to try to milk
this opportunity for what it was worth. "Well, tell me something, did you
happen to see or hear anything funny yourself? How about recently?"
The man gave him a grin. "Two jets yesterday evening, shot down another
plane back up there in the mountains. Phyllis Smith said she saw them do
it, too. The plane they shot down was also kind funny—looking. She said
it kinda glowed. But hell, things like that have been seen around here
before."
Mulder grinned back at him. "UFOs? Have you seen any yourself, around
here?"
"Not lately. But there was a sighting at the Twin Hills, back down along
the highway, about fifteen years ago. And then there was that 1976 sighting
over Heart Mountain," the man lifted his chin in the direction of the peak,
back towards Cody. "Yeah, it was just like out of that Close Encounters
movie. Lots of lights and stuff, right around Christmas. Some people were
talking about Santa Claus, making jokes. But it was kinda scary." He gave
Mulder a look, askance, tilting his head. "Ah, you really thinking of going
up to Leroy's?"
"Yeah, why?" Mulder had the feeling of imminent revelations, the way the
man was looking at him all of a sudden.
"'Cause there are stories about that place up there. See, the oil drilling
company came in, surveying, years ago. Started a well and pump up there,
past the ranch, in the mountains. Dan told me when he was drunk one time
that one night the king of the dwarves appeared in his bedroom and asked for
his help to get rid of the oil well. Said the little guy told him that it
was disturbing his people who lived up there."
"No kidding," Mulder said, a little astonished. "What did he say?"
"Well, he said he'd see what he could do. He tried talking to some EPA
folks about getting them to move out. But nothing happened. Then, they
started losing tools and equipment. Strange stuff; things going missing.
They had to close it down. It's abandoned, now. And then these here
scientists come up, digging up stuff, and they find all those little bodies.
It's kinda scary, you know?" He shook his head. "Ya gotta wonder."
"I'll say. Well, you've been a real help. Thanks. You know I really do
have to go up there and check it out for myself now, after what you've told
me?" Mulder grinned widely at him.
"Yeah, well you look out for yourself, sir. There is some weird stuff going
on up there." He shook his head again. "I won't go up there after dark, to
tell you the truth."
"I'll try to be back before the sun goes down. Well, thanks a lot. I
appreciate it." Mulder reached out a hand.
The man shook it. "Bill Cramer. Pleased to meet you, mister, ah..."
"Mulder. The name's Mulder."
"So, you working on a story? What, are you a reporter?"
"Actually, no. I was just in the area and I heard about what happened.
Wanted to get the story for myself, you know?"
"Well, Mr. Molder, I hope you manage to see something. I bet they've sealed
it off pretty good, by now. They probably already took away all the bodies
and things."
"That's okay. I just want to have a look at the place."
"Well, good luck to you."
"Thanks."
Mulder got in and drove off in a flurry of dust. He could barely suppress
the tense glee that had seized him as he'd listened to what Cramer had told
him. It still had him in its grip, and his body was laced with adrenaline
and excitement. He felt like he was on the trail of buried treasure. In a
way, he was. Proof. Vindication. Actual bodies. And UFO sightings, no
less.
Frowning to himself, he reversed along the road and carefully made his way
back to the fork. This time, he took the one on the right and it led even
deeper into the mountains. The road carried on past a turnoff where the
abandoned drilling facility sat, a misshapen collection of buildings and
equipment, looking very out of place in the pristine wilderness.
Taking the turnoff, he drove right up to the facility. Getting out of the
car, he stretched and took a deep breath. The sides of the steep valley
rose up all around him, the large hills barely obscuring the mountains
towering just behind them. Cramer was right. He wouldn't want to be here
after dark. For the threat of bears or cougars, or even stranger creatures.
Still, the wild beauty of the place was undeniable. He was getting a
little worried though about the lack of other people. He would have thought
that the military would be crawling all over this area. It didn't make
sense that this place would be so deserted. But the downed, glowing 'plane'
of the night before had gone down somewhere farther north so he reasoned
that they must be concentrating their efforts up there.
Walking around the outside of the facility revealed nothing out of the
ordinary, until he saw the lock had been forced on the door on the left side
of the building. Curious, he opened the door and entered the building.
Taking out his flashlight, he began to explore the interior of the abandoned
complex.
He felt a strange sensation in his head, like a whisper brushing across his
mind. Mulder drew his weapon. He didn't want to be unprepared and he could
definitely feel the presence of someone else in the vicinity. He was not
alone.
The unusual sensation increased, almost like a physical sense of someone
touching the insides of his skull. And then he heard it. Well, not in his
ears. It was like the memory of a voice inside of his head, only he was
hearing it in the moment. It was like an odd displacement, a thought that
wasn't his, and not unpleasant, although it was unsettling at first.
//I am alone. We are alone. //
He didn't get the feeling that his gun was needed, so he put it away.
Keeping the flashlight before him and venturing further into the dark depths
of the rooms, he followed the direction of where he could feel the voice was
coming from. Right at the back, secreted behind the door of an empty
storage closet in an old office.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" he called out, his voice echoing in a weird
muffled sound in the dusty place.
The mental mind-touch returned, this time laced with a little ironic humor
and curiosity, although there was the strong sense of a background fear and
vulnerability. //We are the only ones here. You are a strange one. You
are not like the others. //
"I'm not," he mumbled, feeling a bit foolish to be talking aloud almost to
himself. "I'm just... looking. Looking around. I'm looking for answers."
A mental chuckle followed his reply. //Perhaps we can help each other. I
am looking for an answer, too. //
He licked his lips, wondering why he still felt a pang of fear and
trepidation in the pit of his stomach, despite the calm and reasonably
friendly feel of the silent voice. He was standing in front of the closet
now. "Can—can I open the door? I mean, do you want me to?"
The background fear and vulnerability intensified briefly. //Very well.
But please don't panic-fear-scream-yell-afraid—// The sudden jumble of
words burst over him along with a larger dose of fear and he felt himself
feeling stronger, more in control. "Don't worry, I won't. I won't do any
of those things." And drawing a breath, he slowly opened the door, holding
the light to shine down on the floor.
Slowly, Mulder raised the light to look into the corner of the closet and
saw a small, pale-skinned creature crouched there. It had burning eyes,
large wrap-around eyes with huge black pupils surrounded by blue irises. It
had no hair on its overly large head and it was wearing a soft, silvery-gray
suit of some kind, with an insignia of a small triangle on the front, on it
s left breast.
Mulder couldn't even speak. His mouth was too dry and he was in a hazy kind
of shock. Even after waiting all his life to meet an actual, living,
intelligent alien being like this, he was far from prepared for the reality.
All he could do was think: what—who—are you?
//I was only conducting a routine observation, looking for the small ones
who dwell in this place. But the jets came. They found my ship, and I
crashed last night. I couldn't fix the damage; it was irreparable. I had
to leave. They were looking for me. I came here. //
Mulder gulped, feeling a surge of sympathy as well as doubt. 'They' would
undoubtedly kill this being if they found it.
//I can disguise myself from their eyes, but I cannot stay here. You are
looking for answers. I can help you find them, if you will help me. // The
hope and good intentions of the being were broadcast simultaneously and in
that instant, Mulder realized that he would aide this creature in whatever
way he could.
The being's voice was enough to assure him of its intentions, although he
was sure that anyone else who saw it would undoubtedly go through the
panic-fear cycle it had described to him. "Let's get out of here," he
suggested. "They know I'm here. They must have seen my car on the road,
earlier, when I reached the fence."
It understood him as he spoke, seeing the mental images as he replayed them
along with his words. //Agreed. // The being stood up slowly, unfolding
tense limbs and visibly relaxing in his presence. It stood just over four
and a half feet tall. It waited for Mulder to turn and leave, following
quietly behind him.
As they made their way out of the building, Mulder asked, "How is that I can
hear your voice in these words?"
There was an indulgent smile. //Telepathy is so convenient. You filter what
I send you and make what sense of it you can. All the rest is energy,
vibrations. But you already know this. //
It added, with a measure of its own curiosity, //You have the potential for
this ability, and more. Why do you not develop it? //
"There hasn't really been a need, up until now," Mulder said, dryly.
"Besides, you might already know this, but people like me are considered,
uh, generally 'spooky'."
A silent grin and understanding was directed at him, as the being
comprehended the humorous reference from his memories. They left the
building, and Mulder felt the urgent desire to get the hell out of there.
They were in danger of losing what lead-time they had. He went to the
passenger side and opened the door for the being who climbed into the seat,
looking rather frail and childlike in the suddenly all-too-human environment
of the car. He shut the door and then went around to get in himself, to
back up and turn the car around.
As he drove carefully back down the treacherous road, he mused upon the fact
that he was in shock. He had driven up and found the pilot of the downed
UFO; he was aiding it in a get-away and currently had said-pilot in the seat
beside him. He didn't want to stare but it was too monumental. He wondered
why Scully always seemed to miss these kinds of events. Even in Antarctica
she'd been unconscious as the giant ship rose above their heads and flew
away. He kept glancing at the being out of the corner of his eye.
Half-formed questions rose and fell in his bubbling thoughts, but he didn't
want to pester it.
A dry response came to him. //I am male. My name is Daein. I am like you,
in that I am a hybrid, also.// A note of pride crept into his voice. //I
am 42% human. The rest of my heritage is—// It stopped, trying to find
the relevant data in Mulder's conscious awareness. //—Zeta Reticulan. You
call them little grays. But it is merely one race. //
"Thanks," Mulder said, a note of gratitude in his voice for the information
that Daein was volunteering. "You know, I've waited all my life to be able
to speak with a being like yourself. But I never really imagined that it
would happen, after all these years, waiting for it to happen..." He
hesitated. "I think I'm still trying to deal with the fact that you're
actually here."
Understanding, comprehension. //You wanted this, to meet one like me. Many
of your people here do not. They are afraid of it. They project much fear.
It draws the wrong kinds of beings to them. // Mulder could sense the
mutual gratitude in Daein's response, for Mulder's non-threatening and
mostly reasonable reaction to Daein's physical existence.
"Where do you want me to take you? What will you do? How will you be safe?"
//I don't know. My people will see the ship was destroyed. They will look
for me. // But there was a twinge of fear and loss in Daein's reply.
Abruptly, Mulder found he was driving back onto the main highway, off the
dirt road and onto the asphalt. And just beyond them, ahead on the road,
was a roadblock of military vehicles. Coming up behind them were two more,
converging on him both from the turn-off to the site and Leroy Ranch, as
well as the northern route of the highway.
He stopped the car. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, furiously. Gripping the
steering wheel, he fumed. What could he do? It wasn't fair. Just when he'd
finally got what he'd waited for all his life...
Daein soothingly sent, //Don't worry, Mulder. They cannot see me. Tell them
you found nothing. I will project my non-existence so they will ignore me.
Most humans will ignore something they don't want to see. //
Acutely aware of the presence of the hybrid gray alien sitting next to him,
Mulder almost burst out laughing from the tension as the armed men in
uniforms began to surround the car. "You better be right." He rolled down
the window.
"Get out of the car, keep your hands on your head," one of them ordered.
Mulder looked out of the window at him. "What? What is it?"
"Just do it," the man said. "Come on, move."
Sighing, Mulder opened the door and stepped out. They began to search him.
They found his badge and gun. "FBI? What are you doing here?"
"I'm not here on a case. I was just taking the weekend off to go hiking.
Maybe some fishing along Clark's Fork Canyon," Mulder explained.
Approaching them was an Air Force officer in blues. "Let him go. Give him
back his gun," the man ordered. He strode up to Mulder. "General John
Linden," he introduced himself, and added, "You wanted to see about the
grave site, didn't you?"
"The road was blocked. I turned around," Mulder said, sardonically.
"There's nothing left up there anyway. They've already cleared the area.
There's nothing to see. We've got kind of a sticky situation up here right
now though, what with the downed plane and all. We're conducting a search
up in the mountains. We can't have sightseers getting themselves lost in
the middle of all this and complicating our salvage efforts. I'm sure you
understand." General Linden appeared straightforward, meeting Mulder's eyes
as he mentioned the 'downed plane'.
"Downed plane, huh?" Mulder almost grinned. He was suppressing the urge to
look back at the car, to see if he could still see Daein in the front seat.
To his relief, everyone seemed to be ignoring his strange, partly-human,
mostly-alien passenger.
"Well, you know the score," Linden said, almost apologetically.
"Yeah, I think I do." Mulder did grin at him, at this point. "Okay. Look,
I'm leaving anyway. I only wanted to see the dig. But if all the bodies
have been removed, there isn't much point. I may end up just fishing, after
all."
"I might join you, if things get any more whacked out, here," Linden said,
wearily. "Wish I was in your shoes. Enjoy your weekend."
One of the men came back to the general. "Sir, he's clean. The car's
empty."
"Well, I guess we'll let you go on your way," Linden said, staring at the
car briefly, with a slightly puzzled expression before straightening and
looking back at him.
"Thanks. And good luck, finding that plane." Mulder met his gaze.
"Right." Linden gave a little half-smile and then shook his head, first as
if to clear it, and then as if sighing to himself. "Let's go," he ordered.
They began to climb back into their vehicles and drove away, leaving Mulder
to get into the car and sit numbly behind the wheel.
He turned his head and looked at Daein. The little fellow's skin was
positively translucent in the sunlight. "That went well."
//He saw me. I asked him not to say anything. It is odd. He didn't want
to see me and agreed to pretend he didn't. I don't think he even remembers
it now. Sometimes human beings do that. But he has met others before,
other Reticulans. He doesn't like it when people shoot down our ships. //
Mulder took a deep breath and started the engine. "So, what do we do now?
How long do you think it will be before your people find you?"
Daein seemed sad, wistful. //I'm uncertain. But they will concentrate
their efforts in this area. I dare not go too far from the base. //
"The 'base'?" Mulder repeated. "What base?"
"There is a base in the mountains near here. Farther south."
Driving along the highway, back towards 120, the Belfry Highway, Mulder
said, "I don't want to take you into town. But we might need to stay
overnight in a motel somewhere. We could stop in Cody. Somewhere obscure,
on the edge of town. What do you think?"
Daein said, //It would be better for me to stay in the mountains, close to
my people. You could get supplies here, at this place. //
Mulder looked ahead at the small store. The Edelweiss. "All right," he
said, slowing down to drive in to the front of the store and park. He
inhaled and turned to Daein. "I won't be long."
//Thank you for helping me. // The sincerity and depth of emotional regard
in Daein's statement took him by surprise.
"Believe me, it's—it's an honor," Mulder said, quietly. He opened the car
door. "Back in a few minutes."
//Strawberry ice cream. Please obtain some for me? // Anticipation ran
throughout Daein's request.
Mulder smiled, bemused. Right. Strawberry ice cream. Everyone has their
indulgences, he thought. And felt Daein's answering, happy smile. He shook
his head, feeling almost as if he were agreeing to buy a treat for a kid.
Inside the Edelweiss, Mulder found himself perusing the shelves for supplies
that would come in useful on an extra-terrestrial road trip. And grinned to
himself. He thought of phoning Scully and then thought better of it. This
was his, this experience; it was just for him.
Paying for the goods with cash, he returned to the car. As they continued
on the highway in the direction of Cody, Mulder found himself relaxing. The
drive was monotonous, the road so long and straight that he could afford to
get in some good discussion time here. He tried to formulate some sort of
concrete question out of the mass of seething curiosity in his mind. Daein
seemed to sense it and left him alone.
A herd of pronghorn antelope was grazing by the roadside and as the car
neared them, they bounded off, their white rumps signaling danger as they
leaped away. The way the herd acted in unison as one community helped him
to think of what he wanted to ask Daein.
"Are you part of a collective? Does your race generally exist as a
collective consciousness?"
//The Reticulans do. There is much confusion between your people and
Reticulans. Humans see them as hive-like while the Reticulans see humans as
lost units, entirely lost in their separatist egos and unable to connect or
communicate with each other. As a hybrid, I exist with others of my kind
much in a state as you do—able to experience either means of
communication. //
"How long have you been here, on Earth?"
Surprised, Daein turned his head to look at Mulder. //I was born here.
This is my home. I have traveled all over, to the bases that are open to my
kind. But this planet is my home. //
Curious, Mulder asked, "Do you feel a kinship with humans, then?"
//Of course! I am proud to have human genetics as part of my DNA heritage.
The Reticulans that you call 'little grays' are rather unemotional and
although very efficient, they do not make interesting companions. I am glad
to have this opportunity to travel with you. //
The tone of respect and sincerity in Daein's voice caught Mulder off—guard.
Somehow, he hadn't expected humanity to be valued so highly from a more
advanced being such as this one.
Daein picked up on this thought however and continued, //No one is better
than anyone else. We are all different, unique beings. We all have
something to offer. Of course, human prejudice is not one of them, and
Reticulan snobbery is not, either. //
"Snobbery?" Mulder smiled at the image of a little gray with its nose in
the air, attempting to come across as superior.
Daein smiled too. //This is all you wanted, isn't it? To converse with
someone who was not of your race? //
"Yeah, that just about sums it up. I wanted to have someone else's point of
view, to meet someone who didn't think like everyone else I've met. A real,
honest-to-God 'alien'." He shot Daein a look. "Sorry if that appellation
offends you."
//I understand what you mean by it. But appearances can be deceiving, //
Daein mused. //You may have dismissed other interesting minds in the past,
simply because you judged them as being 'merely human'.
Mulder gave a twisted half-smile at this. "I know. But meeting you makes
up for the loss, I think."
Passing rocky hills intricately carved by erosion over the years and creeks
bearing glacier-melted water from mountains and stream tributaries, they
began to climb in altitude. The road stretched out before them but Heart
Mountain was getting closer.
"Where are we going?" Mulder asked, wondering about their destination.
//There is a base just above Sunlight Basin. We will come to the road soon.
//
Mulder was startled. "What, just up ahead? I passed the sign on the way
here, earlier today."
Daein turned to him and said plaintively. //I am very hungry. //
"Your ice cream—I'm so sorry," Mulder said, reaching behind him and
grabbing up the plastic bag that had the small carton of ice cream in it.
He handed it to Daein who promptly withdrew it from the plastic bag and took
off the lid. There was a small wooden scoop on the inside of the lid and
Daein began to delicately consume the ice cream. Mulder couldn't help his
fascination with watching the little man eat. He made it look like a
sensuous performance without being greedy or sloppy in the slightest.
Humor laced Daein's observation: //I am glad that my manners do not offend
you. //
Mulder fixed his eyes back on the road, concentrating. "So, what race are
you, anyway? Do you have a designated race?"
//I am Sassani. It is not easy being Sassani at this time; there are not
enough of us to truly call a full race. There are not enough of us to
populate even a smaller world, let alone one this big. But one day, the
experiments will be successful and people who are of an even more
appropriate hybridization mix will be produced. They will colonize a new
world. //
"So that's the plan behind all the abductions and creation of the
hybrids," Mulder said, realization dawning.
//Only partly. There are many experiments, many races. It is one facet, //
Daein explained, carefully spooning pink gobs of ice cream into his mouth.
//There are some races and factions who have other agendas. Some of them
are far more sinister and serious than ours, as you have already discovered.
But the Essassani will be a success because in the future they already
'are'. They have come back from that time to interact with us and others of
your people. //
"Time-travel?" Mulder found himself adopting a somewhat Scullified
skepticism at this. But the undeniable honesty that was inherent in Daein's
communicated thoughts and mind-touch with his was genuine. This particular
Sassani actually believed that this was indeed the case.
//Your own government has conducted terrifying and irresponsible experiments
with time-travel already, using devices and technology to create loops
connecting Montauk, the Eldritch ship and Mars, as well as other places,//
Daein commented, a dark and fearful thread staining his mental thoughts.
"Right, the Philadelphia Experiment," Mulder said. "I wasn't sure how much
faith to put in those stories. But what about the other races? What about
the rebels? And if your people as well as the Reticulans have bases
everywhere, why aren't they doing anything to contain the Black Oil? And
the oiliens? And the grays with the sinister agenda?"
Daein gave a little mental shrug. //It is all to do with the voluntary deal
that your government made years ago. It seems that there is a
non-interference policy with only so far that others can strain the limits
of the agreement. The deal was made with those particular grays, not with
anyone else. They are therefore stuck with the results. Some of us do not
like it but there are higher forces, higher powers. Some races are here to
arbitrate and will step in if necessary, but only to avert major crises. //
Mulder frowned to himself. This topic cast a dark shadow over an otherwise
sunny and remarkable day. The late afternoon sun was shining directly
through the windshield and he had on his dark glasses. With the Sassani
sitting beside him and he in his sunglasses, he realized they looked like
they'd just come off the set of a film about the Men In Black. He laughed
quietly.
Daein laughed with him. And then said cryptically, //My people thought of
that one. We worked hard to influence the correct individuals to implement
the utilization of some of the ideas in that movie. //
Mulder glanced at him, startled. "What, the one with Tommy Lee Jones and
Will Smith?"
Daein only chuckled and refused to elaborate.
Mulder sighed through his nose. Then went on to the next line of
questioning. There was so much. Too much to get through. He was aware of
time passing, even though the road was so long. "Have you contacted the
pygmy race who live under the mountains?"
//We leave them alone. They do not like to be disturbed, although they are
less likely to warm to humans than to little grays. It was my intention to
inquire into their thoughts on territory and expansion in this region. We
mean to increase activity on our base. //
"Your mission got aborted rather suddenly. How will you continue?"
Daein put the strawberry ice cream away. //Afterwards, I will complete it.
I must get to safety first, however, and regather resources and support. I
was doing this as a favor for this base, after all—the one we are going
to. //
"In Sunlight Basin?" Mulder began to understand what was going on. "All
the sightings over the years in this area... It's because of the Sunlight
base, then? "
//Yes. //
"But where do you actually come from? What brought you over here?"
//I am usually stationed in the Cairngorms of Scotland, // Daein said.
//But the publicity in that region has grown recently, especially as the
rather irresponsible British Air Force keeps flying planes and jets over
that base. The magnetism generated by some of the equipment inside the base
affects their instruments and they crash. They should know better than to
fly directly over the affected areas. It was decided to tone down
operations there for a time. It was becoming embarrassingly like the Bermuda
Triangle with such a high incidence rate. //
Mulder laughed. "Yeah, I can see how that would start to generate unwanted
attention."
Daein gave him a mental grin. //I have only been to this base once before.
I had only just been stationed here. I was sent here a few weeks ago and
this was my first mission away. //
Mulder said, "I'm sorry that they shot you out of the sky, but I'm glad I
decided to follow up the story. Otherwise I wouldn't have met you."
//It is very curious to me, Mulder, how you can understand our position so
well, and yet remain so closed to the views of others of your own kind. //
Mulder glanced askance at Daein, wondering what the hell brought that on.
"What do you mean?"
//There are blocks in your mind that you enforce deliberately, particularly
in the presence of certain people. I will not pry, but the blocks are
noticeable, even when you are not consciously attempting to suppress your
thoughts. They are very strong whenever your thoughts alight on the memories
of certain acquaintances of yours. All the people who mean the most to you,
in fact. //
Mulder's mind raced, trying to comprehend what Daein was talking about.
"Unless you are more specific, I don't understand what you are referring
to."
//Without pushing at the blocks you have erected, I cannot elaborate. I am
sorry. It would be inexcusable of me. It would be, how would you say, 'bad
manners'? //
Understanding lit Mulder's thoughts. "Sometimes, when things are too
painful, the only way I can deal with them is to cut them off. I don't want
to give undue attention to things that cause a lot of pain. And some people
have hurt me in the past, so I refuse to dwell on them. Maybe that is
partly what you're picking up."
Daein sounded doubtful. //It is unhealthy, in our culture, to suppress the
pain. It becomes like a toothache, the decay setting in on the inside to
rot away the heart from within. //
Mulder tried not to give in to the sudden surge of despair that Daein's
comments brought him. He swallowed, trying to remain focused on the
priority of the moment, of this greatly fulfilling encounter.
//Perhaps I could help you to release the pain, // Daein said, sadly. //It
was not my intention to hurt you. Forgive me. //
The depth of Daein's contrition and desire to make amends nearly brought
tears to Mulder's eyes. "Please, stop. It—it's okay. It's fine. I
understand. There's no need... I just—I—" He fell silent, his mind
overcome with the sudden backwash of all the various suppressed pains and
wounds he'd felt for so long. Even over his sister... He'd thought himself
healed of that one, free of the deep pain over Samantha's disappearance and
his dedicated search for her.
Daein abruptly brought him back to himself with a calm, soothing wave of
mental reassurance and emotional stability. //She is indeed free, as are
you. As are all of your family and friends. There is no need to doubt it.
You are already sure of your convictions in this matter; why do you wallow
in pain now? //
Mulder smiled bitterly to himself. This encounter was dredging up personal
issues from within himself that he had not expected to deal with. Although
he should have expected it, when dealing with a telepathic being. He wanted
to kick himself for not realizing it earlier. And he said, "Thank you.
You're right. I only do it because it's my way of strengthening those
blocks you spoke of. It's my way of refusing to deal with the things I want
to keep locked away."
//I am deeply sorry. Now is not the time to address them. //
Musing, Mulder said, "No, maybe it is. Maybe in this way, our meeting can
be truly productive. I'll bear you to your safe haven, and in return you
can help me find my own haven, inside. An inner peace. I would value that
very highly."
//Even over information on political agendas of extra-terrestrial races? //
Daein was almost laughing at him, gently teasing.
Mulder smiled over at him. "Your people value subtle humor, don't they?"
//The symbol of the triangle with the rings is our insignia. It represents
the key to the Essassani home—world, near Orion. But in our base at
Sunlight, the corridors were constructed specifically to be quite high and
of a comfortable breadth, so that any member of any race might traverse them
with ease. There is a telepathic sign that is hosted in each corridor in
the symbol of the triangle: 'We Cater For the Tall and Wide'. //
Mulder burst out laughing. "Being so short and thin, it's very considerate
of you to think of others in that way."
Daein chuckled. //We like to keep a perspective on our own race in
comparison to others. We pride ourselves on having open minds and value
communication, yet we retain a sense of humor when considering ourselves, as
well as others. // He added, seriously, //And the taller grays and visiting
dignitaries, as well as the draconian races, are indeed grateful. //
Mulder was still laughing. "I'll bet they are."
They watched the scenery slip by, in a comfortable silence.
Daein said, //We will be there in perhaps twenty minutes. //
A sudden sadness pulled at Mulder. He didn't want this to be over so soon.
The previous awareness of an aching loneliness, an agonizing sense of being
devoid of any real understanding or companionship of the quality he'd
enjoyed since meeting Daein so fortuitously, returned.
Daein turned to him. //Mulder. My people would repay you for having so
generously and courageously helped me in this way. //
Mulder tried to push away the feeling of imminent loss. "How so?"
//I will speak with them about letting you visit the base. I will accompany
you. //
This brightened the impending evening somewhat. Mulder pressed him, not
wanting to get his hopes up. "Would they really allow that?"
Daein gave one of his mental shrugs. //I cannot see why they wouldn't.
They bring human government officials there, occasionally. And human
contactees. You are also of a higher caliber, with your hybrid background.
//
"Lucky for me," Mulder quipped. "I've got a built-in pass."
//You experienced trauma not long ago, in connection with the Origin Ship.
// Daein's thoughts identified for Mulder the image of the craft Scully had
investigated that had been off the Ivory Coast, as well as the artifact from
it that had affected him so strongly.
"Indeed, I did." Mulder wondered where Daein was leading with this. Origin
Ship? So, even these gentle creatures knew of it.
//You are very right to let the potential that the Originators showed you
remain dormant. The reason you cannot handle such power yet is because of
your audacity. Although it makes you very brave and enduring, it also
renders you arrogant and impulsive. //
"Yeah, it's one of my more irritating personality features," Mulder said,
dryly, thinking that Scully would feel so vindicated if she were only here
to hear him having to take this from an alien.
Daein's smile was smug. It was a real one. It wasn't even mental. Mulder
couldn't believe it. It was the first time Daein had actually smiled. It
transformed his alien countenance from that of a Reticulan to a pale elf.
//Your humor, compassion and intuition are very Essassani traits. They'll
save you; those, and the fact that you believe in your extreme
possibilities. //
Mulder found himself chuckling with mirth. Yet another doubled, veiled
meaning. Daein had a singular, sparkling mind. Not only was he making
light of Mulder and his human neuroses, he was poking fun at his own kind— while simultaneously making a completely serious reference to the
characteristics of the future level of humanity.
"I'd love to let you loose on Scully," he said, shaking his head.
//She does not 'want to believe'? // Daein asked, picking up Mulder's
habitual response to having to be tolerant with his partner, who often
suffered the most from his 'audacity'.
"I just wish she could have experienced this with me," Mulder murmured,
aware that afterwards, when it was over and he'd returned home, there was
literally no one in the world that he could talk to about this incredible
day.
//You are impatient with yourself. It makes you impatient with your future.
But you create your own destiny... Surely you know that? //
"Sure, in principle. But in practice, things don't always seem that way."
He glanced at Daein. "What would you suggest?"
//Perhaps try to remember at all times that there is a dark and light side,
as well as the whole spectrum and gamut of reactions in between, to every
issue. To remain lodged in a single behavioral mechanism, locked in your
anger and frustration towards the future, creates a stagnant sense of
futility. Where then is hope? //
"But how are we supposed to apply that to practical, everyday life? Real
'life'?" Mulder felt impatience already welling within him. Existential
feel-good platitudes never sat well with him; there had to be a way to
practice it.
//Is it not interesting that we were looking for each other? That our
destinies met today? We could put it down to a resonance of our vibrations
and intentions, our being, that somehow we were able to find each other.
But maybe it was fated all along that we should meet and give each other
something to take away. //
Daein had a point. The flow of synchronicity in the events leading right up
to this moment today had a very surreal flavor, but therein laid the answer.
They were both going where their nature took them.
Mulder realized they had driven right up into the hilly folds of terrain
that lay around the bottom of Heart Mountain. The sign showing the turn-off
for Sunlight Basin was just up ahead. "Here we are." As he slowed to make
the turn to the right, he said, "Now I just want to say that I'm not going
to simply drop you off in the middle of the countryside. I'm going to wait
with you. It'll be safer if we stay in the car."
//Very prudent. There are wild animals and it will get cold later. //
Mulder also had the strong impression that Daein would be glad for the
company. Waiting in the dark for his people to find him and roaming about
attempting to make his way towards the base in the night would be foolish.
"How close can we get to any of the entrances, from the road?"
Daein gave a negating gesture with his hand. //They could not come last
night because they had no idea I had crashed. I did not report in, however,
and they will look for me tonight. When they find me on the doorstep, so to
speak, they will be glad. We will not have to wait long. //
"How will they know that we're there?"
//There are psychic security measures, proximity alerts. Fairly standard
for Reticulan bases of operations. If we can get close enough. //
Mulder was confused. "I don't get it. Why don't you just go up and alert
them to the fact that you're here, then?"
//Because you want to visit the base, do you not? //
Mulder was smiling before he realized it. "I do, indeed. Well, how far
does this road go?" They were now driving down into Sunlight Basin.
//We can stop somewhere appropriate. // Daein murmured, lost in the beauty
of the rich colors of the landscape. All around them the sun was shining on
the hills and rocky crags. But there were large expanses of green. The
sunlight on the grass and scrub made everything appear to glow with a
spring-green color, nearly chartreuse against the darker pine of the trees.
"And you live here?" Mulder was slightly envious. This place was like a
sheltered bowl of paradise.
//The base is more inaccessible, buried farther back beyond the small
canyons. // It was obvious in the way his feelings colored his thoughts:
Daein was happy to be stationed here.
They followed the road up to a point and Mulder stopped to park on the
verge. He got out of the car and stretched. Daein followed his example.
"I didn't think we were so close. I imagined a much longer trip."
//Time is relative. //
"And subjective."
They exchanged a grin. Mulder's face went serious once more. "I'm a better
person around you. When I'm with you. With other people, I can sometimes
be... all too human. All the human parts of me I can't control—they just—"
Daein regarded him solemnly. //Change is the only constant in the universe.
Self-change is voluntary. If you are changing, you are flowing with events
rather than against them. The friction occurs when you fight it. Because
you are fighting yourself—and the universe. //
Mulder considered Daein carefully. "That sounds like the Tao, or
something."
Daein shrugged mentally. //It is all the same principle, the same force,
whichever name you choose to identify it. // He went to sit down on the
verge, on the grass.
Mulder stared at him, then went to sit beside him. "I'm going to miss you."
Daein gave him a real smile, one that was echoed by the mental accompanying
gesture and emotion. //We are friends. We resonate. Let this be your
answer, Mulder: look for the resonance of beings with your own nature, and
see beyond the outer form. //
Mulder stopped, realizing, "Don't judge a book by its cover."
//Precisely. //
Slowly, he said, "I think I've been looking for the answers outside myself.
But I'll only find them by looking inwards. Right?"
Daein gave him a small nod, before looking back out across the vista of the
surroundings of Sunlight Basin. //The more you take care of the little
things, and your own inner welfare, the more you will naturally harmonize
with the outer world and you'll draw those experiences and people to you
that help you grow. It will be a mutually enriching experience for both. //
Daein chuckled at him. //One cannot help but wonder why you've been
avoiding it for so long! //
Mulder pulled a face. Dryly, he said, "Maybe I was afraid to look inside.
I should have known, that the only person who could ever give me effective
therapy would be an extra-terrestrial."
//58% extra-terrestrial, // Daein corrected him. //I am human, too. // He
seemed very nervous, not to be dismissed as all Reticulan. With good
reason; he was not the same breed at all. //But maybe I have helped you
find your answer that you were looking for? //
"Right," snorted Mulder, "and the answer is 42." My apartment number, he
thought. How ironic. The answer was me, all along. I should have realized
it, back when the artifact—the Origin Ship—changed me.
But this line of thought was broadcast haphazardly to Daein who picked it
up. //It is the same answer for several others, too. There is one in
particular whose answer and every dream of personal fulfillment is linked to
your apartment number. //
That was cryptic. "Who? Who are you talking about?"
But Mulder's perked interest was not enough to engage anything more from
Daein on it other than a shuttering feeling. Daein was drawing a veil
across their connection, at his question.
"Why can't you tell me?" Mulder hated the feeling of being blocked out. It
felt strange and unnatural with this being. "Why won't you?"
//Courtesy, // Daein reminded him. //Your subconscious is more obvious to
me than it is to you. I can read you too easily, all the things you hide
from in yourself. I intended it only as a clue, to point the way for easier
growth. That was all. It is up to you to do the growing. //
"My next step, huh?" Mulder turned away to regard the panorama, also.
//I would not presume to be your teacher or guide, // Daein said, his
humility was matter-of-fact and not at all obtuse. //I am relatively young.
I mean only to be a friend, a helpful assistant in return for your
protection and help in returning me to the base. //
"I know," Mulder said, quietly, thoughtfully. "And I thank you."
And now Daein's voice grew dry, himself. //Although I think that perhaps
this was less of a crisis for me than it was for you. My ship went down
many miles from here, but you traveled nearly a thousand times that distance
just to collect me and take me to my door. //
Mulder was aghast. "Are you kidding?! They shot you down! You crashed—you
could've been killed! And if they'd gotten hold of you..." he trailed away,
his imagination more than adequately stocked with previous information to
supply the gruesome possibilities. He shuddered. "I'm just glad I could
get here in time."
//I... was being ironic, Mulder. // Daein's reply was riddled with a smirking
sense, although his face was expressionless.
There was a sudden flash of light in the valley across from them and Daein
stood up from where he had been sitting. Delightedly, he said, //They have
seen us! They know we are here. //
Mulder stood as well, and licked his lips. He was suddenly unaccountably
nervous. //Uh, they—they'll be glad I brought you here, yeah?"
//Don't fear, Mulder, // Daein said swiftly, consolingly. //They are not
unfriendly. They are not like the Dulce grays, or the other beings you have
encountered. These are more professional and, // Daein turned and winked at
him, an odd gesture for this being to make, the irony of it not lost on
Mulder who couldn't help a grin, //some of them even have a sense of humor.//
Relief flooded him. "Thank God."
Daein gave him a sideways glance and a mental nudge in the ribs. //Just
hope they don't start teasing you. I think sometimes you can dish it out,
but you don't like being on the receiving end. //
Mulder felt his face go hot. It wasn't fair. Telepaths, he thought to
himself.
The glowing light across the valley disappeared and abruptly, there were two
little men, their eyes very large and black, approaching them on the verge,
ahead of the car.
Daein and Mulder exchanged a look. //Reticulans, // Daein said, partly
jesting, partly factual.
Mulder drew a deep breath, watching as the little grays came closer. He
found himself wondering if Daein wouldn't mind mediating, then realized the
reason he was thinking it was because Daein was actually considering doing
so on his behalf.
Daein had been right. These grays were most definitely of a different kind
than Daein was. Mulder wondered if this was it. Would anyone on Earth ever
see him again?
Angels II
by Jami Wilsen
Fallen Angel
Roger Daltrey—lyrics by Kit Hain
Into the fire
Thrown from my state of grace
I fall to ruin
You call me Liar
The blight of the human race
But it's against my will
I am banished to this place
I'm losing control
A stranger in a state of change
Locked in the rift between heaven and hell
I drift like a fallen angel
Like a fallen angel
Your justice bars
Branded the philistine
Am I the demon?
The one that turns
The human decline
And it's against my will
I'm banished to this place
Chorus
Once I had glory
And you'd follow every word of my law
Now I am cast from this role
Now I am broken
Chorus
Air Force Outpost
Northwest Wyoming
7:14 PM
Hoover Building
Washington D.C.
8:46 AM
Train of Thought
Clark, Wyoming
Off Belfry Highway 120
3:08 PM
Cramer had been right. The road got rougher and the underside of the car
was getting scraped by the occasional jutting rock as he made his way up
higher and higher past the Leroy sign that marked out the man's ranch. He
was making his way deeper into the mountains and he had to suppress a twinge
of doubt as he saw how far he was having to ingress into this area. It
would indeed not be wise to be out here in the dark. At one point, the dirt
road forked and he took the one to the left, wondering if he would find
himself at the site of the dig, or at the abandoned oil well. An abrupt
dead-end loomed in front of him, a big wire fence complete with all sorts of
daunting military warnings and signs. On the top, a camera was swiveling.
He wondered if he should chance it but realized that he'd have to go back
and then return on foot and scale the fence farther along where it wouldn't
be monitored. This was probably the road that led to the site.
