Title: Contrappunto: The First Voice Author: Sarah Bradbury E-Mail: SarahBradbury@unforgettable.com Rating: NC-17 Category: ScullySlash, of course, plus (bonus) an actual X-file! Disclaimer: Alex, mine; Mulder, Scully, not. CC, 1013, blah, blah, blah. Spoilers: Minor, except for a specific reference to Duane Barry (and who hasn't seen that by now??) and that I see Scully in the suit she's wearing in the movie! Cross-Posting and Archiving: Anywhere you see fit. Go wild! (just keep my name and email address on it somewhere). I'll post to AXFC myself. Summary: Scully and Mulder go to Cincinnati to investigate people in inexplicable comas. Are the comas a result of alien abductions? And who is this striking woman doctor that is overseeing their care? Thursday, February 5, 1998, 4:10 p.m. J. Edgar Hoover Building "Oh come on Scully, it'll be fun." "Mulder, going to Cincinnati on a wild goose chase is not my idea of fun. Plus, how many times have I ended up covered with some indescribable green goo when you told me it'd be fun??" Scully sat back in her chair, planning to hold firm this time. "Ooo, Scully, you know what green goo does to me..." Mulder walked around the table and put the file down in front of his partner. "Besides, how can you turn this one down? It's right up your alley." "Rampant road rage is right up my alley? Is that why you always want to drive?" Scully raised one eyebrow at him and resolved to really be strong this time. "Besides, I was thinking of taking off a little early tomorrow and going down to Ocean City for the weekend." "The beach? In February?" Mulder looked a little perplexed, but continued to spread the contents of the file out in front of her. "El nino--remember? It's 75 degrees outside." Scully reminded him while she tried to avert her eyes from the reports he was unfurling. "An old friend of my brother Bill has a house on the edge of Ocean City and he's having a 40th anniversary party for his parents. And since Bill couldn't go, I got the official Scully family invite." "You'd rather go hang out at the beach in February with a bunch of senior citizens than go look at some very interesting medical anomalies that just happen to be in Cincinnati??" he asked incredulously. Scully sighed. She shook her head a little and looked down at the files in front of her. She tried to let her eyes slide over the text without actually reading them. She knew that it would be so easy to let herself get caught. Mulder sensed a chink in her armor and moved in for the kill. He began to summarize the file for her. "There has been a cluster of cases of unexplained rage in Cincinnati during the last month," he began. "Maybe they just discovered that they live in Cincinnati--that would explain the rage," she muttered under her breath. She studied the detritus of their investigations on the wall, resolutely ignoring the files in front of her. "I'll ignore that--I hear Cincinnati is a very nice place to live. Plus, they have the oldest professional baseball team," he said, the teasing glitter in his eyes belying his patronizing tone of voice. Scully just rolled her eyes. "Anyway, by all accounts, these were perfectly normal people, with no history of antisocial behavior. And they all apparently just went off. Five, two men and three women, were involved in road rage incidents. There were no casualties in any of the incidents, but all five were apprehended shortly afterwards and all claimed no memory of the incidents." "Of course they claim no memory. Who says, voluntarily, 'yes I was a total jerk!'?" She forced herself to think about what she could wear to the beach. Mulder ignored her and continued. "It has been suggested that these are not isolated incidents, but they are the ones who happened to get caught. There is anecdotal evidence of other incidents, but the people weren't caught. It is also unusual that over half of the cases involve women. You know how rare it is for women to be arrested for that kind of behavior. In addition, there has been a 20% increase in assault cases, both domestic and otherwise." Mulder looked at his partner expectantly. "And..." Scully prompted him, even though she knew full well that she didn't really want to hear the answer to her implied query. "And seven of those people arrested for assault claimed no knowledge of the incidents," he proclaimed proudly, as if that answered all of her questions. Scully looked at her partner incredulously. What straws was he grasping at this time? What was he not telling her? "Mulder," she began slowly. "There is no reason to think that a slight increase in a particular type of crime, no matter how egregious, is indicative of any deeper meaning. They are just statistical outliers. A blip." "A blip, Scully?" "A bleeping blip, Mulder," she pronounced with finality. "But, Scully, all 12 people, along with 7 others are now in comas at the University of Cincinnati Hospital. Comas, with no apparent medical cause." He grinned at her. He knew that he had pulled her in despite her determination. Scully's brow furrowed as she finally looked down at the reports in earnest. She read the files quickly, intrigued despite herself. She loved a good medical mystery. It was what got her into forensic pathology in the first place. When she was finished with the file, she looked up at Mulder. "So, do you have a theory?" she asked. "If I tell you my theory, you won't want to go with me, so I'll just keep it to myself until I have you safely on the plane. Come on, our plane leaves in an hour and a half. There's just enough time to swing by your apartment and pick up a bag." He grabbed his coat and briefcase and walked out the door. Scully got her own coat and briefcase and followed him. She caught up to him at the elevator. "You got the tickets before you even told me about the case, didn't you?" She shook her head at him as they got on the elevator. Mulder just smiled at her and pressed the button for the ground floor. Friday, February 6, 1998, 7:45 a.m. University of Cincinnati Hospital "I'm sorry, but this floor is restricted. Visiting hours for immediate family only are from 9-10 a.m.." Mulder flashed his badge as he and Scully stepped around the stern nurse blocking their way. They kept walking down the sterile, antiseptic-smelling hall, ignoring the sputtering behind them. "Scully, why do they call it Visiting Hour_s_, when there's only one of them?" "Mulder," she said, ignoring his irrelevant comment, "you know they're going to kick us out if you antagonize them." "Scully, they're going to kick us out no matter what we do. I thought we might be able to get some information first with a sneak attack. In here." He pointed to a door with a large red "Restricted" sign on it. She followed him through the door. Both FBI agents were surprised by the sight that met them on the other side of the door. The room was large, but it was almost completely filled with beds, giving it a tight, cramped feel. Scully quickly counted about 30 patients. Each of the patients was completely immobile and hooked up to an elaborate bank of recording devices. Except for the electronic sounds coming from the machinery, the room was unsettlingly tranquil. "Mulder," Scully whispered. "No one keeps patients in open wards like this anymore. And it looks like they are all hooked up to continuous EEG monitors, as well as having their normal vital signs monitored." Scully walked over to the nearest patient and looked at the readouts on the monitors. "There isn't anything unusual about their vitals, but these EEGs look really odd. They all have prominent slow-wave theta rhythms, which isn't unusual in patients in comas, but there's something odd about them. I'm not quite sure what it is." "It's about 2Hz off from a normal theta rhythm and the periodicity is inconsistent." The two FBI agents whipped around and stared at the tall blond woman in scrubs who stood behind them. "And who the hell are you and what are you doing in my ward?" Scully pulled out her badge. "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and this is my partner, Fox Mulder." Mulder flashed his badge at the doctor, who took it from him before he could put it away. She inspected it carefully before handing it back to him. And then she scrutinized him for a long moment before she turned to Scully. "You clearly have some medical training, Agent Scully." It was not a question. "Agent Scully is a physician," Mulder said to the doctor's back. Scully nodded. She felt naked in the heat of the doctor's intense gaze. She wasn't sure what to say to this woman. She felt the need to step backwards, if only to put some distance between herself and those eyes. Those eyes that gave only a glimpse of the pure steely power within. Scully knew that they had to be honest with this woman. She would give them nothing if she sensed bullshit. "We're here investigating a series of unexplained incidents of violence and rage, perpetrated by your patients," Scully explained. "Who called you in?" the doctor asked, her piercing green eyes never leaving Scully's. "Ahh," Scully equivocated. "We weren't exactly called in." "We're more here in an unofficial capacity," Mulder ventured. He had moved so that he was no longer behind the doctor, who had still not released Scully from her studious gaze. The doctor pulled a small flashlight from her pocket. "Look at this," she motioned the two agents over to one of the patients. She shined the light in one of his eyes. Scully leaned over and looked into the patient's eye. "There's a pupillary response," Scully noted. She opened the other eye. "This pupil is constricted as well, so the consensual reflex is normal." "It's the same in all 29 patients. They also have normal cold caloric responses." Scully suddenly became aware that the doctor's left arm was pressed up against her as they leaned over the patient together. She looked up. The doctor was looking down at the patient. Her eyes were no longer made of stone or steel or some other inanimate material; they were warm and filled with concern. Scully didn't know what to make of this woman. "What does all this mean, Scully?" Mulder interrupted her thoughts. Scully turned and looked at him. "Well, technically speaking, Mulder, these people are not in comas. They are basically... asleep." "Asleep, but totally unresponsive. And with that unusual theta rhythm." The doctor regarded the two agents thoughtfully. Her expression had lost its earlier hostility, but it was still impenetrable. Scully forced herself to speak, despite her suddenly dry throat. "Do you have any ideas, Dr. ...." She paused, as she didn't know the doctor's name. "Cauldwell. Alex Cauldwell. And no, I have no idea. Do you?" Mulder began to respond, but Scully interrupted him. "Dr. Cauldwell, it would be better if we could go somewhere private and talk about this. If you have some time." Scully looked questioningly at the doctor. She felt an unfamiliar feeling of anticipation. She wanted this woman to have time to meet with them again. And although she justified it to herself by thinking that Dr. Cauldwell might be able to help them with this case, she realized at some level that this was insincere. *I'm not quite ready to let her go yet.* Scully was somewhat perplexed by this thought, but she didn't really pay much attention to it. She was used to ignoring her feelings. "I have patients all morning, but I might be able to get away for lunch. However, I won't know until around 11." "You can call me on my cell phone when you know." Scully handed Dr. Cauldwell her card. "I know you can't let us see the patient's medical records, but do you at least have a list of their names? And I thought there were only 19 of them." "There were only 19 yesterday morning," the doctor nodded. "We've had 10 more admits since then. That's why they're in this ward room, so we can monitor them all at once. It's actually an old quarantine ward." "Is that why there's a restricted sign on the door?" Mulder asked. "Perhaps that's something we should talk about at lunch." The doctor gave Mulder an inscrutable look. "I'll have the nurse print out a list of the patient's names and addresses. I'm afraid that, officially..." she paused meaningfully, "I can't give you any more information." The FBI agents got the list from the nurse's station, while trying to avoid the sputtering nurse from earlier that morning and headed off to the elevator. Alex Cauldwell watched them leave. She wasn't quite sure what she would tell them at lunch. Not that she questioned where her loyalties lay, but she wasn't sure what the right course of action would be. Plus she was intrigued by the intense blue eyes of Agent Scully. *What lies behind those oh-so- serious eyes?* she wondered. "Mulder, let's go to the cafeteria and get some coffee and plan our attack," Scully said as they got onto the elevator. When they finally found the cafeteria and sat down with their coffees, Mulder pulled out his PalmPilot and Scully pulled out a little black notebook. "Mulder, that is so geeky." "Didn't you hear? Geeky is cool now." Scully just rolled her eyes. "There are a few things I'd like to look up in the medical school library here," Scully said, getting down to business. "I'm going to get a city map, figure out where all these people live and then I think I'll go over to the main university campus and see if I can find someone who can tell me about the area," Mulder continued. "I'd also like to know more about Dr. Cauldwell," Scully mused. "I think I'll have a check run on her." "Yeah, she's tough as nails. I wouldn't want to mess with her. She reminds me of an elementary school teacher of mine." Mulder shivered. "Was that the one who paddled you in the fourth grade and you've been fantasizing about it ever since?" Scully smirked at her partner. "Well I was a very bad boy, ...and she was a very stern teacher." He paused and leered at Scully. "And she was almost as hot as Dr. Cauldwell!" Scully felt herself blushing, and she realized that it was because she thought Dr. Cauldwell was hot, too. She wasn't really what you would describe as beautiful, but she was had an arresting presence. Hot fire and cold steel, Scully caught herself thinking. She wasn't sure where these thoughts had come from, but she knew she had to squelch them, at least for the time being. Scully wrested herself from her ponderings and realized that Mulder was looking at her in an odd way, so she snapped her notebook shut. "It's 8:45 now, how about if I call you after I get the call from Dr. Cauldwell," she said as she stood up. "O.K. Scully," Mulder grinned at her. *What was he thinking?* And then with the practice of long- standing habit, she pushed all non-work related thoughts down and headed to the library. Two hours later, Scully was engrossed in a neurological journal when her phone rang. She ignored the annoyed looks of the other library patrons and answered it. "Scully." "Agent Scully, this is Alex Cauldwell. I think I can get away for an hour or so around 12:30. Are you free then?" "Sure, do you want to go to the cafeteria?" "I'd rather get...out of the hospital. Do you have a car here?" "Yes, would you like us to pick you up in front of the hospital at 12:30?" "Let's make it 12:40 and how about if you pick me up at the medical school entrance? Do you know where that is?" "We can find it. 12:40 then." Scully held the phone for a moment after the doctor had disconnected. But then she shook her head, clearing it of all unnecessary thoughts. She looked around and saw that no one else was sitting near her any more. So she took the opportunity to make a few phone calls. First she called Mulder and told him of the plans for lunch, and then she called Agent Josephs, whom she had asked to run a check on Alex Cauldwell. "Marcus, it's Dana Scully. Did you get a chance to run that check I asked you about?" "Sure Dana," the voice on the other end of the line said. "But there's not much to report. Name: Aleksandra Cauldwell." He spelled out the unusual spelling. "Born in 1960 in Lexington, Kentucky. Family middle class. Her father was an accounting professor at the University of Kentucky, but retired three years ago. Mother was, and still is, a volunteer at the public library. A thoroughly unremarkable childhood. Cauldwell went to Swarthmore College and graduated with honors in 1981. Then she went to med school at Hopkins and graduated third in her class. She did residencies in both neurology and neurosurgery at Hopkins and got a job in the Neurology department at the University of Cincinnati in 1993. She has risen in the ranks there and is apparently unofficially second in command in the department. She has also published a whole bunch of articles in medical journals. The only negative thing I could find on her seems pretty insignificant. She dabbled a little with the democratic socialists when she was in college, but she seems to be a pretty standard liberal democrat now. Active in local party politics and all." Scully thought for a minute, assimilating all of this information. "Thanks for doing this for me, Marcus. And on such short notice. There is no mention of military involvement, or security clearances, or anything like that, is there?" "No, Dana, nothing like that. Is there a problem?" He asked. "No, I'm just checking. Can't be too careful, eh?" *Or too paranoid.* She said goodbye and hung up the phone. She put down the journal she was reading. *Not that it's much help, anyway.* Scully went upstairs to the main floor of the library and sat down at one of the terminals. She logged into the National Library of Medicine's public database. And typed 'Author=Cauldwell, A.' Fifteen A. Cauldwells came back and Scully looked through them until she found the one she wanted. A. E. Cauldwell. *I wonder what her middle name is.* Scully paged through the citations, skimming the abstracts. Alex Cauldwell had been prolific; she had over 30 articles to her name. Some were descriptions of a particular neurosurgical case, but many were complicated, involved research studies. Scully sat back in her seat. She still had no real sense of the woman. Scully stared blankly at the computer screen while she mulled over the mysteries at hand-- the patients in inexplicable comas and Alex Cauldwell. And then with no answers to either, she gathered up her stuff and went to meet Mulder. Despite the maze of the medical school grounds, they found the entrance and pulled up just at 12:40. Alex Cauldwell strode across the courtyard toward them. She moved with a purposeful grace, as if she knew exactly where she was going in life. She flashed a warm smile at Scully in the passenger seat when she got to the car. Scully's heart caught in her throat for a brief moment before she was able to squelch the feeling. She returned the smile. "Where to, Doc?" Mulder grinned in the rear view mirror at their passenger. "Go up this street and turn right." Mulder followed her instructions until they ended up at a quaint little restaurant about five minutes from the hospital. After they were seated and had ordered their lunches, Scully decided to get down to business. "Dr. Cauldwell, what's going on here?" Alex Cauldwell returned the ice-blue stare with a potent gaze of her own. It was as if each woman were trying to divine the secrets of the gods in the other's eyes. "Actually, I really don't know. I was hoping you might be able to help me get a better handle on the situation." "Why don't you begin at the beginning and tell me all you know." Scully said quietly. Mulder could barely hear her, and the two women had not released each other's gaze. But he knew better than to interrupt. After all this was Scully's area of expertise. And she _had_ made some kind of connection with the woman. Or was it the other way around? And what kind of connection was it? Mulder looked up with a start and realized that he had been lost in his thoughts. Scully and Dr. Cauldwell were still head to head and deep in conversation. "If you'll excuse me ladies, I have to go to the little boys' room." They barely noticed him leaving. Mulder turned to look at them as he left the room. *There are two of the most intense women on this planet. How can they stand each other?* He chuckled to himself as he went to the bathroom. "The first patient came in the day before yesterday. We had heard nothing about his...interactions with the police. His family just found him sitting in a chair, unconscious. When he came in to the ER, they did all the standard neurological tests, and were basically confused. That's when they called me. I specialize in neurological trauma. I ran every test I could think of, but could come up with no good reason for this man to be in a coma. I was willing to write him off as a medical mystery until later that evening when five more people were admitted with identical symptoms." "Could this be the result of a contagion of some sort--viral, bacterial, maybe prion?" Scully asked. "Could be," the doctor responded doubtfully. "But there is no obvious immune response. Anyway, at the end of the first day, we had six patients. By the next morning, there were 12. Seven more yesterday, and ten more last night. Two have come in already this morning. There are no signs of this slowing down and I have no idea what to do about it. I have no treatment, because I can't tell what's wrong." The doctor shook her head with frustration. Scully empathized with the doctor's obvious concern. She knew that it probably took a lot to rattle a woman like her. Scully started to offer her sympathy, but Alex Cauldwell interrupted her. "No, wait. There's more. This is where it gets weird." She smiled wryly at Scully, sharing the irony of the statement. "Yesterday, word came down from _above_ about how to deal with the patients. I don't know where the directive came from, and if my chairman knows, he's not saying. We were told to put them in the quarantine ward, told to monitor their EEGs and vitals, and to keep them hydrated. We were told nothing else. The restricted sign was put up sometime yesterday afternoon, but no one saw it going up, and the nurses were sent a memo that said not to let anyone but immediate family in. And then the FBI shows up!" Alex Cauldwell looked like this was the first time in her life that she did not understand exactly what was going on. Scully contemplated this information. *I hate to admit that Mulder was right. But something very strange is going on here.* She studied the woman sitting across from her. At first glance, Alex Cauldwell seemed all green eyes and freckles. Although she had blond hair, she was not fair. She had the kind of tan that people who aren't trying to tan get--the tan of someone who spends a lot of time outside. Her face was generously sprinkled with tiny maroon freckles and those potent green eyes looked out intently from the sea of freckles. "So why is the FBI interested?" Dr. Cauldwell broke the silence that had fallen over the table. "Well, I'm not sure the FBI, per se, is interested," Scully hedged. "Then why are you here?" the doctor demanded. "Well, my partner and I investigate unusual and/or unexplained cases. Mulder heard about your patients through the grapevine and decided to investigate. We have quite a bit of...latitude in our cases." "This case is most certainly unusual and unexplained," Alex Cauldwell shook her head again. "Have you two solved the mysteries of the pyramids yet?" Mulder smiled at them as he walked up to the table. "Mulder, something very odd is going on here," Scully began. "I know Scully, that's what I've been trying to tell you." "No, Mulder, I don't think it's what you think." "Actually Scully, I don't really think it's what I think!" "Now I'm really confused," Dr. Cauldwell laughed at the two FBI agents. "Agent Mulder has (or is it had, Mulder?) a theory." Mulder just grimaced and gave Scully his 'don't make too much fun of me look.' "Agent Mulder is interested in the possibilities of extraterrestrial life, and although we have no evidence one way or the other, this case seems very...terrestrial to me." Scully explained to the doctor. She then turned to Mulder and quickly summarized what Dr. Cauldwell had told her. Mulder sat and thought for a long moment before he turned to Dr. Cauldwell. "Although your patients exhibit fairly classic symptoms of alien abduction, I have to agree with Scully. Whatever happened to these people--I think it has an earthly origin." Mulder flashed a slight smirk at the doctor. Go ahead, it said, you can mock me and disbelieve me. It doesn't matter. Alex Cauldwell returned his smirk with a completely neutral expression. Mulder reached down and pulled a sheaf of papers out of the folder he had brought with him. "This is a map of the city, with red dots where all of the victims live and blue dots where all of their crimes were committed. You can see that neither is clustered in a simple pattern. There is no apparent organization to the blue dots at all, but the red dots, where the patients live, seem to have a pattern, but it's not really a straightforward one. There are small clumps in a fairly linear pattern. When I first looked at it, I thought, 'they must live along a river or creek,' but you can see there is no such body of water on the map. So I took my map here to a Dr. Martin, history professor and expert on the history of Cincinnati." "Who knew there was an expert on the history of Cincinnati?" Scully said with almost, but not quite, a sneer. Mulder ignored her and continued. "I showed Dr. Martin my map, and he agreed with me that it looked like the marks should follow a stream of some sort. He also told me that when certain areas of the city were developed, streams and creeks were run underground. They would just put in a series of culverts and build over them. So there are a lot of creeks and streams that don't show up on modern maps. Dr. Martin found a map of Cincinnati from the beginning of this century and lo and behold, all of out red dots lie along a body of water that was once called Pilgrim's Creek." Mulder stopped and basked in his own glory. "Environmental exposure..." Scully mused. "Yep. I bet each of those clusters is where the creek comes above ground for a section, or where the culverts have been breached and water is leaching out." Mulder said, proud of his investigative skills. "But, if it's an environmental exposure, why hasn't everyone that lives there been affected? And what poison or toxin could cause these symptoms? And why is someone so interested in keeping this quiet?" Mulder's answers were not the answers to the questions Alex Cauldwell was interested in. "I began a list of companies that are upstream from all of the cases." Mulder produced a list of about twenty names. "Many of them are chemical companies. I was hoping we might be able to track something down with them." The doctor took the list from him and studied it. Mulder looked at Scully. A brief unspoken communication passed between them. Alex Cauldwell was one of the good guys. They could trust her. "Chemicorp...," Dr. Cauldwell intoned slowly. "I think they make pesticides. Actually I think several of these companies might make pesticides." "That could explain at least some of the neurological symptoms." Scully said thoughtfully. "You didn't run a blood- hormone analysis, did you?" "No, it didn't even occur to me, but I intend to this afternoon. Speaking of which, I have to get back." Dr. Cauldwell looked at her watch. "Pesticides? Hormones?" Mulder was confused. "Some pesticides can mimic the actions of hormones," Scully explained. "And hormones have neuromodulatory effects." "If you mess up the balance of hormones in the brain, you can really screw up all kinds of neuronal, cognitive, and psychological functions," the doctor added. "Does that mean...." Mulder began, a grin beginning to form on his face. But Scully shut him down before he could finish his sentence. "Enough, Mulder. Go check out those companies and see which ones are making pesticides. See if you can find out if any have been working on new products." Mulder just grinned at his partner who was attempting to be serious and nodded. Scully turned to Dr. Cauldwell. "And I'd like to see those EEGs. I want to know what accounts for those unusual theta rhythms. And I'd appreciate it if you could tell me more about the significance of theta rhythms in general. I did some reading this morning and as far as I can tell, the subject has attracted every crackpot scientist from here to Vladivostok." Scully shook her head in disdain. Both Mulder and the doctor laughed at her outburst. "Actually, you're right. The study of theta rhythms is not...very well respected in the scientific community. There are some interesting results--for example a healthy theta rhythm in the hippocampus seems to be necessary for certain types of learning and memory--but the real answer is that we really don't know what it's for and what it's doing. EEGs are a crude diagnostic tool. The phenomena that they monitor are complex and derive from multiple inputs. That there is a coherent rhythm is perhaps the most remarkable thing! But, I'll show you the EEGs, though, for what they're worth." They paid their check and walked out to the car. Mulder asked the doctor more about the neurological effects of hormone imbalance. Scully fell a few steps behind the other two, lost in her own thoughts. She noticed that Mulder barely had to bend his head down to talk to the doctor, who was almost as tall as the FBI agent. Scully felt a little twinge of jealousy over their closeness. *But, for whom?* she wondered. Mulder dropped the two women off at the hospital and headed back to the main campus of the university. Dr. Cauldwell guided Scully through the warren of buildings that made up the hospital. "I'm glad the reception desk didn't give us _these_ directions this morning," Scully laughed, as they turned into a particularly 19th century-looking hallway. "Their way is more straightforward, but mine is faster. And infinitely more interesting," the doctor grinned as they walked by a display case of medical curiosities. Scully caught a glimpse of a hand with six fingers in a glass jar. They made one more turn and went through an unmarked door and then they were in the hallway Scully remembered from the morning. When they got to the "Restricted" door, however, their progress was blocked by a very large security officer. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but only authorized personnel are allowed in this room." The guard looked straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact. "Dr. Scully is here at my request. I have asked her to consult on this case." Alex Cauldwell spoke with the assurance of one who was not used to her authority being questioned. "I'm sorry ma'am, but my orders are only to allow you, Dr. Sanderson, and the nurses into the room." He continued to stare over their heads. "Dr. Scully, will you wait in my office for me?" The doctor's lips held a tight line. "I'll show you where it is." The two doctors walked silently to a small office at the end of the hall. "You can sit here at my desk; there's no place else to work." Alex Cauldwell caught Scully's eyes and directed them to a small stack of files on her desk. "Why don't you take a look at these...journals...while I see to my patients. I'll be back as soon as I can." Scully nodded at the doctor who gave her a quick reassuring smile as she left. *Is she trying to reassure me or herself?* Scully wondered. She sat down at the desk and after a quick glance around the small room, she opened the folder on top. As she had gathered from Dr. Cauldwell's hints, these were the patient files. *At least "they" haven't made them disappear yet.* Scully read through all of the files once and sat back in the chair. She needed to make connections between the information in the files and sometimes the way to do that was to let all of the pieces of data mingle unfettered in her brain. She looked around Dr. Cauldwell's office. *Well, I _did_ want to know more about her.* The office was small and functional, with few decorative touches. There was a painting on one wall. It was a striking watercolor of several women sitting around a table talking and laughing, but if the subject didn't make it particularly remarkable, the size, the bright colors, and the skill with which the women had been captured did. Scully looked at the signature, wondering if she had heard of the artist. A.E.C. *Did Alex Cauldwell paint this?* Scully studied the painting for several minutes, trying to make a connection between the efficient doctor and this exuberant painting. She reluctantly pulled herself away from the painting and examined the rest of the room. There was no furniture in the office except for a bookcase and the doctor's desk. The bookcase was filled with medical references and the desk was a large L-shaped affair with one arm mostly taken up by a computer. The other arm was covered with papers and files. It wasn't quite messy, but it certainly wasn't neat. The papers and files were mostly arranged in stacks, but the stacks were all over--at various angles and on top of each other. It was the arrangement of a basically organized person who was very busy. There were no knick-knacks or anything personal on the paper arm of the desk, but there were a few tchotchkes near the computer. One of those little troll figurines sat next to the keyboard and a small reproduction of the Nike of Samothrace and an Ansel Adams card stood near the monitor. Scully resisted the urge to read the card, but she picked up the statue. She ran her fingers over its surface, her fingertips reading the braille of the ancient fabric folds. She replaced the Nike and picked up the troll. It had bright blue hair with sparkles in it. *There has to be a story behind this,* she chuckled to herself. And then with a sudden and decisive move, she opened several of the files again. She pulled out a few of the EEG readouts and laid them next to each other on the desk. She shuffled and aligned them, and then she sat back and studied the array. The door opened, interrupting her reverie. Before Alex Cauldwell could even greet the FBI agent, Scully called her over. "Look at this. I've lined these EEGs up, so that the readouts from the different brain regions are next to each other. You can see that the most prominent theta rhythm for all of these patients is here in the temporal region. It decreases the further you get from this locus. The recordings from the frontal-most electrode are almost normal." Scully looked expectantly at the doctor. Alex Cauldwell studied the printouts. "Yes," she began slowly, still caught in her internal analysis. "That could make sense, if it's an abnormal hormonal influence. There are structures in the temporal region that are more sensitive to the influence of certain hormones." She looked down at the woman sitting at her desk. "The question is, which hormones are being affected. And by what chemical? And is there anything we can do about it?" "I have some ideas," Scully began. "But there are some things I have to look up. Do you have Internet access on this computer? And do you mind if I use it?" "Sure, help yourself. It's on, just hit a key to wake it up. And then click on the Netscape icon. Feel free to use any of the reference books you need, too," she said, pointing to the well- stocked bookcase behind the desk. "I took blood samples from some of the patients. I'm going to take them over to a friend in the med school. He said he'd do some chemical analyses for me. I'll be back in about a half hour. No one usually bothers me in here, but if anyone knocks, tell them they can page me." Scully nodded. The doctor smiled down at the woman sitting at her desk, but she was already lost again in the files in front of her. [end part 1 of 3, Contrappunto]