Oh, and Out They Come : The BrainySpeXs

Time Crash: Children in Need Special - Doctor Who | BBC

The Tenth Doctor and the Fifth Doctor meet for the first time in this special scene for Children in Need.

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[TARDIS]

MARTHA: 

I'll see you again, Mister. 

(Martha leaves. The Doctor pulls a lever on the console. Alarms blare and the TARDIS spins. There are briefly Two Doctors.) 

Perfect-10 : 

Ah, stop it! What was all that about, eh? 

Eh? What's your problem? 

The Chorister : 

Right, just settle down now. 

(They bump into each other as they work their ways around the console.) 

The Chorister : 

So sorry. 

Perfect-10 : 

What? 

The Chorister : 

What? 

Perfect-10 : 

What! 

The Chorister : 

Who are you?

Perfect-10 : 

Oh, brilliant. I mean, totally wrong. 

Big Emergency, Universe goes 'BANG!' in five minutes, 

but, brilliant.

 

The Chorister : 

I'm The Doctor. Who are you? 

Perfect-10 : 

Yes, you are. 

You are The Doctor. 

The Chorister : 

Yes, I am. I'm The Doctor. 

Perfect-10 : 

Oh, good for you, Doctor. 

Good for brilliant old you. 

The Chorister : 

Is there something wrong with you? 

Perfect-10 : 

Oh, there it goes -- The Frowny Face!

I remember that one!

Mind you, bit saggier than I ought to be. 

Hair's a bit greyer. That's because of me, though. 

The two of us together has shorted out the time differential. 

Should all snap back in place when we get you Home. 

....be able to close That Coat again. 

But never mind that : 

Look at You! 

The Coat, The Crickety Cricket Stuff, The.... Stick of Celery. 

Yeah. Brave choice, celery, but Fair Play to you --

Not a lot of Men can carry off a Decorative Vegetable. 

The Chorister : 

Shut up! 

There is something very wrong with My TARDIS, 

and I've got to do something about it very, very quickly --

And it would help, 

it really would help if there wasn't 

Some Skinny Idiot 

ranting in my face 

about every single thing 

That Happens to Be in Front of Him! 

Perfect-10 : 

Oh. Okay. Sorry. Doctor. 

The Chorister : 

Thank You. 

Perfect-10 : 

Oh, The Back of My Head...!

(Someone is growing a bald patch, or tonsure au natural.) 

The Chorister : 

What? 

Perfect-10 : 

Sorry, sorry. It's not something you see every day, is it, 

The Back of Your Own Head.

 

Mind you, I can see why you wear a hat --

I don't want to seem vain, but could you keep that on? 

The Chorister : 

What have you done to My TARDIS? 

You've changed The Desktop Theme, haven't you. 

What's this one, Coral? 

Perfect-10 : 

Well....

The Chorister : 

It's worse than The Leopard Skin. 

(The Fifth Doctor puts on his half moon spectacles.) 

Perfect-10 : 

Oh, and out They come : The BrainySpeXs. 

You don't even need them!

You just think they make you look A Bit Clever. 

(An alarm whoops.) 

The Chorister : 

That's an alert, level five, indicating a temporal collision. 

It like two TARDISes have merged, 

but there's definitely only one TARDIS present. 

It's like two time zones at war in The Heart of The TARDIS. 

That's a paradox that could blow a hole in the space time continuum the size of -- 

Well, actually, the exact size of : Belgium. 

That's a bit undramatic, isn't it? Belgium? 

(The Doctor offers his sonic screwdriver.) 

Perfect-10 : 

Need this? 

The Chorister : 

No, I'm fine. 

Perfect-10 : 

Oh no, of course, you liked to go hands free, didn't you, like :

'Hey, I'm The Doctor -- I can Save The Universe 

using A Kettle and Some String. 

And 'Look at me, I'm wearing a vegetable!' 

The Chorister : 

Who are you? 

Perfect-10 : 

Take a Look --

The Chorister : 

Oh. Oh, No. 

Perfect-10 : 

Oh, Yes. 

The Chorister : 

You're. Oh, No.

 

Perfect-10 : 

Here it comes -- Yeah, I am. 

The Chorister : 

A Fan! 

Perfect-10 : 

Yeah. ....What?! 

The Chorister : 

This is Bad -- Two Minutes to Belgium. 

Perfect-10 : 

What do you mean, 'A Fan'? 

I'm not just A Fan, I'm You. 

The Chorister : 

Okay, you're My Biggest Fan. 

Look, its perfectly understandable --

I go zooming around Space and Time, 

Saving Planets, Fighting Monsters 

and Being, well, let's be honest, Pretty sort of Marvellous, 

so naturally now and then people notice me --

Start up their little groups. 

That L.I.N.D.A lot -- Are you One of Them? 

How did you get in here? 

Can't have You Lot knowing where I live. 

Perfect-10 : 

Listen to me. I'm you, I'm you. 

I'm You with A New Face --

Check out This Bone Structure, Doctor, because 

one day you're going to be shaving it. 

(The cloister bell tolls.) 

The Chorister : 

The Cloister Bell! 

Perfect-10 :

 Right on time. That's my cue. 

(They both start throwing control levers.) 

The Chorister : 

In a minute we're going to create a black hole 

strong enough to swallow the entire universe! 

Perfect-10 : 

Yeah, that's my fault, actually. 

I was rebuilding the TARDIS, forgot to put the shields back up. 

Your TARDIS and my TARDIS, well the same TARDIS 

at different points in its own timestream collided and whoo -- 

There you go, End of The Universe, butterfingers. 

But don't worry, 

I know exactly how This all works out -- Watch :

Venting the thermobuffer, drawing the Helmic regulator, 

and just to finish off, let's fry those Zeiton crystals. 

The Chorister : You'll blow up the TARDIS. 

Perfect-10 : No, I won't. I haven't. 

The Chorister : Who told you that? 

Perfect-10 : You told me that. 

(Whiteout, then) 

The Chorister : Supernova and black hole at the exact same instant. 

Perfect-10 : The explosion cancels out the implosion. 

The Chorister : 

Pressure remains constant. 

Perfect-10 : 

It's brilliant. 

The Chorister : 

Far too brilliant. 

I've never met anyone else who could fly the TARDIS like that. 

Perfect-10 : Sorry, mate, you still haven't. 

The Chorister : You didn't have time to work all that out. Even I couldn't do it. 

Perfect-10 : I didn't work it out. I didn't have to. 

The Chorister : You remembered. 

Perfect-10 : Because you will remember. 

The Chorister : You remembered being me watching you doing that. You already knew what to do because I saw you do it. 

Perfect-10 : 

Wibbly wobbly 

BOTH: 

Timey wimey! 

Perfect-10 : 

Right, TARDISes are separating. 

Sorry, Doctor, time's up. 

Back to Long Ago. 

Where are you now? Nyssa and Tegan? 

Cybermen and Mara and Time Lords in funny hats 

and The Master? 

Oh, he just showed up again, same as ever. 

The Chorister : 

Oh no, really? 

Does he still have That Rubbish Beard? 

Perfect-10 : 

No, no Beard this time -- 

Well, A Wife. 

The Chorister : 

Oh, I seem to be off. 

What can I say? 

Thank You, Doctor. 

Perfect-10 : 

Thank You. 

The Chorister : 

I'm very welcome. 

(The Fifth Doctor vanishes. The Tenth flips some switches and brings him back to return his hat.) 

Perfect-10 : 

You know, I Loved Being You. 

Back when I first started at The Very Beginning, 

I was always trying to be old and grumpy and important, 

like you do when you're young --

And then I was you, and it was all 

dashing about and playing cricket 

and My Voice going all squeaky when I shouted --

I still do that! - The Voice Thing. 

I got that from you. 

Oh, and The Trainers, and -

(He puts his spectacles on.) 

Perfect-10 : 

Snap. Because you know what, Doctor? 

You were My Doctor. 

The Chorister : 

To Days to Come. 

Perfect-10 : 

All My Love to Long Ago. 

(The Fifth Doctor vanishes.) 

The Chorister : 

Oh, and Doctor -- 

Remember to put Your Shields up. 

(But just as he presses the button, there is the sound of a ships horn and a prow comes crashing into the console room.) 

Perfect-10 : 

What? What! 

(He picks up a life belt. It says 'Titanic'.) 

Perfect-10 : 

What?!?

Genghis Kahn : The Central Asian Borg

We are the Mongol Golden Horde.

Lower your city gates and surrender your capital.

You will be assimilated - your biological, technological and cultural distinctiveness will adapt to service us.

Resistance is futile.

You Don’t Even Listen.

“If You’re TRULY Interested in RESOLVING The Conflict —

• NOT Looking for Pretexts;

• NOT Looking for Excuses;

• NOT Looking for Alibis —

It seems to me that you would •welcome• a Change of Heart — and a Change of Heart that has now endured for THIRTY YEARS;

That would seem to me — to those who seek a Diplomatic Settlement — that would seem to me, to be Grounds for Rejoicing —

But if you DON’T want a Diplomatic Settlement;

If you’re looking for all sorts of EXCUSES in order to steal Other People’s Land — because you want to Control Their Lives —

because you want to •render• Their Lives •so• intolerable and unbearable, that They’ll finally pack up and leave, and go wherever They can —

If THAT’S Your Goal — then, yes — more than ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD — you’re going to •dread• The Record I’ve just gone over....

Because That Record, is Your Big Problem.

The Problem is, for •whatever• reason, The Arab World, The Palestinians, have  expressed willingness to accept The International Consensus and Resolve The Conflict —

And unfortunately, that’s What Israel •Dreads•,

and that’s apparently YOU Dread — because you don’t want to •talk• about The Last 30 Years.

WEEDS

The Hound of Heaven

 

Richard Burton reads the haunting poem 'The hound of Heaven' by Francis

 

 

 

239. The Hound of Heaven
By Francis Thompson  (1859–1907)
 
I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days;   
  I fled Him, down the arches of the years;   
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways   
    Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears   
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.            5
      Up vistaed hopes I sped;   
      And shot, precipitated,   
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears,   
  From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.   
      But with unhurrying chase,           10
      And unperturbèd pace,   
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,   
      They beat—and a Voice beat   
      More instant than the Feet—   
‘All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.’           15
 
          I pleaded, outlaw-wise,   
By many a hearted casement, curtained red,   
  Trellised with intertwining charities;   
(For, though I knew His love Who followèd,   
        Yet was I sore adread           20
Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside).   
But, if one little casement parted wide,   
  The gust of His approach would clash it to.   
  Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue.   
Across the margent of the world I fled,           25
  And troubled the gold gateways of the stars,   
  Smiting for shelter on their clangèd bars;   
        Fretted to dulcet jars   
And silvern chatter the pale ports o’ the moon.   
I said to Dawn: Be sudden—to Eve: Be soon;           30
  With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over   
        From this tremendous Lover—   
Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see!   
  I tempted all His servitors, but to find   
My own betrayal in their constancy,           35
In faith to Him their fickleness to me,   
  Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit.   
To all swift things for swiftness did I sue;   
  Clung to the whistling mane of every wind.   
      But whether they swept, smoothly fleet,           40
    The long savannahs of the blue;   
        Or whether, Thunder-driven,   
    They clanged his chariot ’thwart a heaven,   
Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o’ their feet:—   
  Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.           45
      Still with unhurrying chase,   
      And unperturbèd pace,   
    Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,   
      Came on the following Feet,   
      And a Voice above their beat—           50
    ‘Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me.’   
 
I sought no more that after which I strayed   
  In face of man or maid;   
But still within the little children’s eyes   
  Seems something, something that replies,           55
They at least are for me, surely for me!   
I turned me to them very wistfully;   
But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair   
  With dawning answers there,   
Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.           60
‘Come then, ye other children, Nature’s—share   
With me’ (said I) ‘your delicate fellowship;   
  Let me greet you lip to lip,   
  Let me twine with you caresses,   
    Wantoning           65
  With our Lady-Mother’s vagrant tresses,   
    Banqueting   
  With her in her wind-walled palace,   
  Underneath her azured daïs,   
  Quaffing, as your taintless way is,           70
    From a chalice   
Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring.’   
    So it was done:   
I in their delicate fellowship was one—   
Drew the bolt of Nature’s secrecies.           75
  I knew all the swift importings   
  On the wilful face of skies;   
  I knew how the clouds arise   
  Spumèd of the wild sea-snortings;   
    All that’s born or dies           80
  Rose and drooped with; made them shapers   
Of mine own moods, or wailful or divine;   
  With them joyed and was bereaven.   
  I was heavy with the even,   
  When she lit her glimmering tapers           85
  Round the day’s dead sanctities.   
  I laughed in the morning’s eyes.   
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather,   
  Heaven and I wept together,   
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine;           90
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart   
    I laid my own to beat,   
    And share commingling heat;   
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.   
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven’s grey cheek.           95
For ah! we know not what each other says,   
  These things and I; in sound I speak—   
Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences.   
Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth;   
  Let her, if she would owe me,          100
Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me   
  The breasts o’ her tenderness:   
Never did any milk of hers once bless   
    My thirsting mouth.   
    Nigh and nigh draws the chase,          105
    With unperturbèd pace,   
  Deliberate speed, majestic instancy;   
    And past those noisèd Feet   
    A voice comes yet more fleet—   
  ‘Lo! naught contents thee, who content’st not Me!’          110
Naked I wait Thy love’s uplifted stroke!   
My harness piece by piece Thou hast hewn from me,   
    And smitten me to my knee;   
  I am defenceless utterly.   
  I slept, methinks, and woke,          115
And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep.   
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,   
  I shook the pillaring hours   
And pulled my life upon me; grimed with smears,   
I stand amid the dust o’ the mounded years—          120
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.   
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,   
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.   
  Yea, faileth now even dream   
The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist;          125
Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist   
I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist,   
Are yielding; cords of all too weak account   
For earth with heavy griefs so overplussed.   
  Ah! is Thy love indeed          130
A weed, albeit an amaranthine weed,   
Suffering no flowers except its own to mount?   
  Ah! must—   
  Designer infinite!—   
Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it?          135
My freshness spent its wavering shower i’ the dust;   
And now my heart is as a broken fount,   
Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever   
  From the dank thoughts that shiver   
Upon the sighful branches of my mind.          140
  Such is; what is to be?   
The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind?   
I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds;   
Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds   
From the hid battlements of Eternity;          145
Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then   
Round the half-glimpsèd turrets slowly wash again.   
  But not ere him who summoneth   
  I first have seen, enwound   
With glooming robes purpureal, cypress-crowned;          150
His name I know, and what his trumpet saith.   
Whether man’s heart or life it be which yields   
  Thee harvest, must Thy harvest-fields   
  Be dunged with rotten death?   
 
      Now of that long pursuit          155
    Comes on at hand the bruit;   
  That Voice is round me like a bursting sea:   
    ‘And is thy earth so marred,   
    Shattered in shard on shard?   
  Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me!          160
  Strange, piteous, futile thing!   
Wherefore should any set thee love apart?   
Seeing none but I makes much of naught’ (He said),   
‘And human love needs human meriting:   
  How hast thou merited—          165
Of all man’s clotted clay the dingiest clot?   
  Alack, thou knowest not   
How little worthy of any love thou art!   
Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,   
  Save Me, save only Me?          170
All which I took from thee I did but take,   
  Not for thy harms,   
But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms.   
  All which thy child’s mistake   
Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home:          175
  Rise, clasp My hand, and come!’   
  Halts by me that footfall:   
  Is my gloom, after all,   
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?   
  ‘Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,          180
  I am He Whom thou seekest!   
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.’

The Riding Forth

Why Beyond Order? It is simple, in some regard. 

Order is explored territory. 

We are in order when the actions we deem appropriate produce the results we aim at. 

We regard such outcomes positively, indicating as they do, first, that we have moved closer to what we desire, and second, that our theory about how the world works remains acceptably accurate. 

Nonetheless, all states of order, no matter how secure and comfortable, have their flaws. 

Our knowledge of how to act in the world remains eternally incomplete—partly because of our profound ignorance of the vast unknown, partly because of our willful blindness, and partly because The World continues, in its entropic manner, to transform itself unexpectedly. 

Furthermore, the order we strive to impose on The World can rigidify as a consequence of ill-advised attempts to eradicate from consideration all that is unknown. 

When such attempts go too far, totalitarianism threatens, driven by the desire to exercise full control where such control is not possible, even in principle. 

This means risking a dangerous restriction of all the psychological and social changes necessary to maintain adaptation to the ever-changing world. 

And so we find ourselves inescapably faced with the need to move beyond order, into its opposite: CHAOS. 

If order is where what we want makes itself known — when we act in accordance with our hard-won wisdom — chaos is where what we do not expect or have remained blind to leaps forward from the potential that surrounds us. 

The fact that something has occurred many times in the past is no guarantee that it will continue to occur in the same manner.

There exists, eternally, a domain beyond what we know and can predict. 

Chaos is anomaly, novelty, unpredictability, transformation, disruption, and all too often, descent, as what we have come to take for granted reveals itself as unreliable. 

Sometimes it manifests itself gently, revealing its mysteries in experience that makes us curious, compelled, and interested. 

This is particularly likely, although not inevitable, when we approach what we do not understand voluntarily, with careful preparation and discipline. 

Other times the unexpected makes itself known terribly, suddenly, accidentally, so we are undone, and fall apart, and can only put ourselves back together with great difficulty — if at all.

 The fortress is taken. 

It is over. 

You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it. 

They still defend it. 

They have died defending it. 

They're breaking in! 

They're past the door! 

Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves? 

Is there no other way? 

There is one passage. 

It leads into the mountains. 

But they will not get far. 

The Uruk-hai are too many. 

Tell the women and children to make for the mountain pass. 

And barricade the entrance!

So Much Death. 

What can Men do against such reckless hate? 

Ride out with me. 

Ride out and meet Them. 

For Death and Glory. 

For Rohan. 

For Your People. 

The Sun is Rising. 

Look to my coming 

at first light on The Fifth Day. 

At Dawn... 

...look to The East. 

Yes. 

Yes. 

The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in The Deep one last time. 

Yes! 

Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. 

Fell deeds, awake. 

Now for wrath now for ruin and a red dawn. 

Forth Eorlingas! 

Gandalf. 

Theoden King stands alone. 

Not alone. 

Rohirrim! 

Eomer. 

To The King! 

Fire Demons

MULDER : 

You know, when I, uh... 

I first came to work at the FBI, 

I worked at Violent Crimes, 

and I saw, I saw 

The Worst of Humanity. 

I saw monsters and I wondered 

how they became that way, 

how these men became so evil. 

I know there were psychological explanations-- 

Victims of their environment, 

Victims of their parents-- 

But the scientific explanations 

were never truly satisfying. 

And I began to think about Evil like, like a disease. 

You know, that it goes from 

man to man or age to age. 

Most of us walk around thinking 

we're incapable of any 

Acts of Evil and we are. 

You know, we can stifle 

that momentary urge 

to kill or to hurt. 

We have some kind of 

immunity to it. 

But I think it's possible 

that there's... 

An occurrence 

in somebody's life, 

a Tragedy or a Loss 

that leaves them vulnerable, 

hurts their Immunity to Evil, 

and all of a sudden at that point 

in their lives when 

they're weakened —

They're open to Evil 

and they can become Evil.

DOGGETT: 

If that were True, 

then what you're saying is... 

Is that this man 

we wheeled in here tonight 

is Infected with Evil, 

The Same Evil 

that killed My Son. 

You really believe that, Agent Mulder?

MULDER: 

Uh, I'm not really a good test 

for questions like that. 

I'll believe almost anything, 

you know, but the, uh... 

The pisser is,

You may never know. 

It may be like Agent Reyes says. 

It could be random and meaningless-- 

Who it Affects, Who it Goes to.

DOGGETT: 

What if it isn't?

MULDER: 

Well, then you'd be 

Seeing Something 

that I don't, 

Agent Doggett.

SCENE 13

SPARTANBURG, SOUTH CAROLINA

11:02 AM

(Payphone area we saw the night before. Sheriff's Deputies are walking around. DOGGETT pulls up in a rental car. He sees MULDER, in rolled-up shirt sleeves, casually leaning against a Sheriff's car.)

DOGGETT: 

What am I doing here?

MULDER: 

Been asking myself that same question, Agent Doggett. 

But it seems the tenacious Agent Reyes does not want to let go of this one.

DOGGETT: 

Of what?

(MULDER leads DOGGETT toward the crime scene.)

MULDER: 

She's got a murder victim out here, a woman found shot. 

She thinks it's probably the same man who killed those two people down in New Orleans-- this Jeb Dukes.

DOGGETT: 

What does she want from me?

MULDER: 

She wants to know if you See it, Too. 

What She's Been Seeing.

DOGGETT: 

I told you, there's no connection.

(DOGGETT looks over and sees REYES standing with the Deputies in a loose circle around something on the ground. The clothing is different, but the arrangement of people is identical to that of his flashback/vision in the hospital. As she did in the vision, REYES looks back at him.)

REYES: 

Agent Doggett.

(The circle of men breaks apart. DOGGETT comes to stand next to REYES. He looks at the body of the PAYPHONE WOMAN lying face down on the ground. Same position and angle of the body as that of his son in the file photo we saw earlier and the woman in New Orleans. DOGGETT takes a breath and speaks calmly. MULDER is a few feet away, watching them.)

DOGGETT: 

I'm sorry, Agent Reyes. 

I don't see it.

REYES: 

I Think You Do.

(DOGGETT starts to leave. He pauses.)

REYES:
You're just afraid to go there.

MULDER: 

Whoo. You just keep shooting till you hit something, don't you?

(REYES stays focused on DOGGETT.)

REYES: 

You'd rather blind yourself to the connections, but I can't.

DOGGETT: 

You keep talking about these connections.

 Connections to what? 

To who?

REYES: 

What if this is a Thread of Evil … 

Connecting through Time, 

through Men, 

through Opportunity, 

connecting back to you. 

In India, in Africa, in Iran, 

in the Middle East, in the Far East. 

Most of The World, 

they take it as a given. 

They see Evil in Death 

the way other people see God in a Rose.

MULDER: 

(dryly) 

I saw Elvis in a potato chip once.

(REYES glances to MULDER.)

REYES:
You know what I'm talking about.

MULDER: 

Yes, I do. I DO. 

But if this man doesn't see it, 

he doesn't see it, right?

(DOGGETT stares at REYES. MULDER leaves. REYES and DOGGETT continue looking at each other.)

SCENE 13

OUTSIDE THE MOTEL WINDOW

MULDER: 

They put up a cordon in a ten-mile radius. 

No sign of them. 

Best I can figure is they must have had an acetylene torch in the back of the truck. 

I don't know how else they could have done it.

SCULLY: 

I wasn't out of that room for more than two minutes, Mulder. 

Come on, there's someone I want to talk to again.

MULDER: 

Who?

SCULLY: 

Kevin's Father.

MULDER: 

Why?

SCULLY: 

He knew that Kevin was in danger. 

He warned us about a 

Powerful and Respected Man.

MULDER: 

The man's a nut case, Scully.

SCULLY: 

Maybe he is.

MULDER: 

But if Kevin is in immediate danger, even if his father has anything to say about Gates, it doesn't help us right now.

SCULLY: 

Well, it's not doing us a lot of good standing around here.

SCENE 14

THE INSTITUTION

(Mr. Kryder is looking at a portrait of Gates.)

MR. KRYDER: 

So this is the man who took my son.

SCULLY: 

You've never seen him before?

MR. KRYDER: 

No. Why would anyone want to hurt Kevin? What does he want?

SCULLY: 

You really don't know?

MR. KRYDER: 

I ... I'm ... I'm sorry. 

I'm just a little foggy right now.

MULDER: 

Scully?

(Mulder shows Scully the log of medications that Mr. Kryder has been receiving.)

SCULLY: 

Haloperidol. It's a powerful anti-psychotic. 

They've increased his dosage. 

Mr. Kryder? 

You said something before about coming full circle to find The Truth. 

What does it mean? 

Full circle to find The Truth?

MR. KRYDER: 

I don't know. I just can't remember.

(Mulder's cel phone rings. Scully walks out into the hallway while Mulder lags behind to take the call. He hangs up and runs to catch up with her.)

MULDER: 

Scully. They had a sighting of Gates. 

He tried to rent another car at the airport, under the name Forau again. 

Did you hear what I said?

(Scully is looking past him at a waste container against the wall. The container has a recycling symbol on it.)

SCULLY: 

Mulder, look. Arrows that form a circle. 

Full circle to find The Truth. 

Gates' Company owns a recycling plant near here. 

That's where he's taken Kevin.

MULDER: 

Scully, the man is at the airport. 

If he hasn't already killed Kevin, he's trying to get as far away as he can.

SCULLY: 

I don't think so, Mulder.

MULDER: 

You think it's you, don't you? 

You think you're the one who's been chosen to protect Kevin.

SCULLY: 

I Don't Know. 

Look, if I'm wrong, I'll meet you out at the airport. OK?

SCENE 15

21ST CENTURY RECYCLING PLANT

JERUSALEM, OHIO

(Inside the plant are Gates and Kevin.)

GATES: 

The sun will be turned into darkness, and the moon will turn to blood, because of you, son.

KEVIN: 

Is that why you want to hurt me?

GATES: 

It's not a question of wanting. 

You have to die, Kevin. 

For everyone. For the New Age to come. 

You understand that, don't you?

(Gates sees drops of blood on the floor and checks Kevin's hands. They are bleeding through the bandages.)

GATES: 

The others were all false prophets. 

You are the only true one among the twelve.

(As Gates reaches for Kevin's throat, Scully appears, aiming her weapon at Gates.)

SCULLY: 

Stop! Federal agent, I'm armed! Let him go! 

Let him go and we'll talk about it!

(Gates pulls Kevin in front of him and they back away.)

GATES: 

There's nothing to talk about. 

I was called upon.

(He and Kevin slip behind some stacks of recycled trash. Scully pursues, but Gates pushes a stack over, blocking her way. He then carries Kevin up the stairs to the top of a shredding machine, while Scully struggles to get around the obstacles.)

KEVIN: 

No! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!

(Gates starts the shredding machine. He lifts Kevin up as if to throw him into the machine just as Scully reaches the bottom of the stairs. Both Gates and Kevin disappear over the edge.)

SCULLY: 

No!

(Scully rushes up the stairs and sees blood in the blades of the shredder. Leaning forward, she sees Kevin hanging to a ledge.)

SCULLY: 

Kevin! Hold on! Hold on!

(She reaches down and grabs Kevin's hand and pulls him up onto the platform grating. They embrace.)

KEVIN: 

I knew you'd come.

SCENE 16

THE SHELTER, TWO DAYS LATER

(Kevin and Scully are in one of the shelter bedrooms. Kevin has just finished packing his belongings.)

SCULLY: 

You all set?

KEVIN: 

(smiling) 

Thanks.

(He reaches out to shake hands with Scully. She turns his hand over and sees no sign of a wound on his palm, then shakes it. Kevin starts to leave.)

SCULLY: 

Maybe I'll see you again sometime.

KEVIN: 

(looking back) 

You will.

CARINA MAYWALD: 

(unseen, from the hall) 

You all ready, Kevin?

KEVIN: 

Yeah.

(Kevin leaves. Scully turns away from the door and looks down as Mulder enters. She brings a hand to her eyes to wipe away a tear, as Mulder picks up her coat and helps her into it.)

MULDER: 

You OK?

SCULLY: 

Yeah, I think so.

MULDER: 

We have a couple of hours before our flight. 

I told the sheriff we'd go down and make a formal statement about Gates' death.

SCULLY: 

I'd appreciate it if you'd handle that alone, Mulder. 

I have an errand I need to run.

MULDER: 

OK.

SCULLY: 

I'll see you at the airport.

SCENE 17

A CONFESSION BOOTH

SCULLY: 

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. 

It has been..... six years since my last confession, 

and since then I've drifted away from The Church. 

I'm not sure why exactly.

PRIEST: 

Have you come to confess?

SCULLY: 

No, um, there's a man that I work with - a friend - and usually I'm able to discuss these things with him... 

but not this. 

Father, do you believe in Miracles?

PRIEST: 

Of course, I see them every day ... 

The rising sun, the birth of a child ...

SCULLY: 

No, I'm talking about events that defy explanation. 

Things that ... I believe helped me to save a young boy's life. 

But now I wonder if I saw them at all. 

If I didn't just imagine them.

PRIEST: 

Why do you doubt yourself?

SCULLY: 

Because My Partner didn't see them. 

He didn't ... he didn't believe them. 

And usually he ... he believes without question.

PRIEST: 

Maybe they weren't meant for him to see. 

Maybe they were only meant for you.

SCULLY: 

Is that possible?

PRIEST: 

With the Lord, anything is possible. 

Perhaps you saw these things because you needed to.

SCULLY: 

To find my way back?

PRIEST: 

Sometimes We Must Come Full Circle to Find The Truth. 

(Scully looks up at the priest) 

Why does that surprise you?

SCULLY: 

Mostly, it just makes me afraid.

PRIEST: 

Afraid?

SCULLY: 

Afraid that God is Speaking ... 

But that no one's Listening.

[THE END]