then laughed with ner-vous delight.
Mulder opened his hands in a helpless gesture. "What are they?"
The doctor slid from his seat. "What do you think?"
Mulder looked thoughtful. "A transporta-tion system," he said at last. "Transgenic crops. The pollen genetically altered to carry a virus."
"That would be my guess."
"Your guess !" Mulder exploded. "You mean you didn't knowl"
Kurtzweil didn't reply. Without looking back he headed for the back of the bar. Mulder gaped, then hurried after him, as the few other patrons turned to see what the commotion was.
He caught up with Kurtzweil near the bath-rooms. "What do you mean, your guessl" he demanded.
Kurtzweil said nothing and continued to head for the back door. With a frustrated sound Mulder collared him, yanking the older man so that the two were inches apart.
"You told me you had the answers ."
Kurtzweil shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't have them all."
"You've been using me—"
" I've been using you !" Now it was Kurtzweil's turn to sound offended.
"You didn't know my father—"
The doctor shook his head. "I told you—he and I were old friends."
"You're a liar," Mulder spat. "You lied to me to gather information for you. For your god-damn books. Didn't you?" He shoved the older man against the bathroom door. "Didn't you?"
Suddenly the door swung open. A man hastily exited, making his way between them. As he did so, Kurtzweil broke away and hurried out the back door. Mulder stared after him, then quickly followed.
"Kurtzweil!"
He blinked in the blaze of afternoon light, looking around vain in for his prey. After a moment he sighted him, and Mulder took off. "Hey!"
When he came up alongside Kurtzweil, the older man turned on him with unexpected ferocity.
"You'd be shit out of luck if not for me," he gasped, pushing at Mulder's chest. "You saw what you saw because I led you to it . I'm putting my ass on the line for you."
" Your ass?" Mulder's voice crackled with disdain. "I just got chased across Texas by two black helicopters—"
"And why do you think it is that you're standing here talking to me? These people don't make mistakes, Agent Mulder."
Kurtzweil spun on his heel and strode off. Mulder gazed at him, dumbfounded by the logic of this, when his attention was abruptly shaken by a noise above him. He whirled and looked up to see a figure straddling a fire escape. A tall man, only his legs and feet clearly in sight; but it was obvious he had been watching them. As Mulder moved back to get a better view the man turned and stared down at him, then ducked into an open window and disappeared.
It was only a glimpse, but something about the figure was familiar. His height, the close-cropped hair…
Mulder frowned and ran a hand wearily across his forehead, then hurried down the alley after Kurtzweil.
He was gone. Breathlessly Mulder chugged onto the sidewalk, scanning the street and sur-rounding buildings. Kurtzweil was nowhere to be seen. For several minutes he walked around, searching for any sign of the familiar raincoat and stooped gray head. But finally he had to admit it: Kurtzweil had given him the slip.
When he reached his apartment Mulder jammed the key into the lock and hurried inside, forgetting to close the door behind him. He tossed his jacket on the couch and crossed quickly to his desk, yanking open one drawer after another until at last he discovered what he wanted: a stack of photo albums. One after another he opened them, glancing at the Polaroids and faded 4x5s in their plastic sleeves and then dropping each book on the floor.
Until he found it. An album with peeling daisy decals on the cover, its contents spilling out as he tore it open. Inside, page after page of photos taken during his Wonder Years: lawn sprinklers and summer camp, fishing at the lake and his sister Samantha's fifth birthday party. Fox and Samantha on the first day of school. Fox and Samantha and their mother. Samantha with their dog.
And there, alongside pictures of
Mulder opened his hands in a helpless gesture. "What are they?"
The doctor slid from his seat. "What do you think?"
Mulder looked thoughtful. "A transporta-tion system," he said at last. "Transgenic crops. The pollen genetically altered to carry a virus."
"That would be my guess."
"Your guess !" Mulder exploded. "You mean you didn't knowl"
Kurtzweil didn't reply. Without looking back he headed for the back of the bar. Mulder gaped, then hurried after him, as the few other patrons turned to see what the commotion was.
He caught up with Kurtzweil near the bath-rooms. "What do you mean, your guessl" he demanded.
Kurtzweil said nothing and continued to head for the back door. With a frustrated sound Mulder collared him, yanking the older man so that the two were inches apart.
"You told me you had the answers ."
Kurtzweil shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't have them all."
"You've been using me—"
" I've been using you !" Now it was Kurtzweil's turn to sound offended.
"You didn't know my father—"
The doctor shook his head. "I told you—he and I were old friends."
"You're a liar," Mulder spat. "You lied to me to gather information for you. For your god-damn books. Didn't you?" He shoved the older man against the bathroom door. "Didn't you?"
Suddenly the door swung open. A man hastily exited, making his way between them. As he did so, Kurtzweil broke away and hurried out the back door. Mulder stared after him, then quickly followed.
"Kurtzweil!"
He blinked in the blaze of afternoon light, looking around vain in for his prey. After a moment he sighted him, and Mulder took off. "Hey!"
When he came up alongside Kurtzweil, the older man turned on him with unexpected ferocity.
"You'd be shit out of luck if not for me," he gasped, pushing at Mulder's chest. "You saw what you saw because I led you to it . I'm putting my ass on the line for you."
" Your ass?" Mulder's voice crackled with disdain. "I just got chased across Texas by two black helicopters—"
"And why do you think it is that you're standing here talking to me? These people don't make mistakes, Agent Mulder."
Kurtzweil spun on his heel and strode off. Mulder gazed at him, dumbfounded by the logic of this, when his attention was abruptly shaken by a noise above him. He whirled and looked up to see a figure straddling a fire escape. A tall man, only his legs and feet clearly in sight; but it was obvious he had been watching them. As Mulder moved back to get a better view the man turned and stared down at him, then ducked into an open window and disappeared.
It was only a glimpse, but something about the figure was familiar. His height, the close-cropped hair…
Mulder frowned and ran a hand wearily across his forehead, then hurried down the alley after Kurtzweil.
He was gone. Breathlessly Mulder chugged onto the sidewalk, scanning the street and sur-rounding buildings. Kurtzweil was nowhere to be seen. For several minutes he walked around, searching for any sign of the familiar raincoat and stooped gray head. But finally he had to admit it: Kurtzweil had given him the slip.
When he reached his apartment Mulder jammed the key into the lock and hurried inside, forgetting to close the door behind him. He tossed his jacket on the couch and crossed quickly to his desk, yanking open one drawer after another until at last he discovered what he wanted: a stack of photo albums. One after another he opened them, glancing at the Polaroids and faded 4x5s in their plastic sleeves and then dropping each book on the floor.
Until he found it. An album with peeling daisy decals on the cover, its contents spilling out as he tore it open. Inside, page after page of photos taken during his Wonder Years: lawn sprinklers and summer camp, fishing at the lake and his sister Samantha's fifth birthday party. Fox and Samantha on the first day of school. Fox and Samantha and their mother. Samantha with their dog.
And there, alongside pictures of
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