Frozen in Time, r1-AnnH-p2
***
Entry in personal journal:
October 11, 2003
Three years, three months, and twenty-eight days.
That's how long it took for the war to end. Even less than the five years I predicted.
The result was never in doubt; the aliens had technological superiority, the advantage of surprise, and clinical ruthlessness on their side. Humanity? Desperation bred courage and heroism, but not enough to withstand hysteria, distrust and fear.
Sheep, I called them. Bleating, ignorant, self-absorbed masses. I knew they would fall decades ago. I wasn't one of *them.*
So I collaborated. For decades, worked with them. Even underwent various hybrid experiments. After all, to thrive, to *rule*, I would need to leave humanity behind. And I did.
The mind was willing, but the body was weak. I had the intelligence, the ambition, the *cruelty* to wield power in this new world. But all the experiments, all the surgeries over the years, combined with my one weakness, left me with an aged, pathetic body, unable at the end to endure the nanocyte treatment that would have saved me. I have been dying slowly for years.
Damned Morleys.
Still, for all intents and purposes, I am the last free man on Earth. I witnessed the slaughter and the horror, the few blazes of human spirit and courage, and the final, quiet surrender. This is *my* legacy.
***
Entry in personal journal:
October 12, 2003
The aliens started the war quietly, and quite effectively. The plague was released world wide simultaneously, killing millions before the first reports aired on CNN.
The resulting hysteria and confusion intensified international tensions. The aliens didn't need to fight humanity when the war began; they did that themselves. Whole nations were destroyed before the true enemy was identified. A matter of weeks, and everything but the shouting was over.
The pockets of resistance were fascinating. Amidst the sheep were a few lions.
Walter Skinner was once an impotent man. I owned him for years, controlled his actions, his very life. The war released the man behind the bureaucrat, the warrior who had survived the jungles of Vietnam. Once the rigid power structure of government crumbled, he simply took up the fight, marshaling any remaining militia into a unified resistance.
He died during the final assault on DC.
Who would have thought Mulder's geeky computer paranoids, the Lone Gunmen, could be lions? I always admired their talents, while deriding their oddities. They fought for humanity tenaciously: information is power, and they sent information across the world, hacking secrets, coordinating strategy.
The aliens captured Byers first. All three had taken the vaccine, so using the Black Oil was not an option. But torture was.
It took six days. I used *every* method of coercion, pain, and psychological terror during my days in the Consortium. Watching the aliens work, I learned I was a amateur.
It was no surprise when Byers died two days later.
When I left DC, Langly and Frohike were in alien hands. If they are still alive, they don't *want* to be.
Dana Scully did not surprise me. I expected her to be the most dangerous threat to the invasion. Once she actually recovered from the shock of alien life, she reacted as the calm, professional scientist. Her work enabled the resistance to develop a cure for the alien plague.
Of course, 3/4ths of the world's population was dead by then.
The alien leaders wanted her killed immediately. Not me. I knew she could be useful. So she went back to the experiment tables. Along with Samantha.
The truth is out there, Mulder.
***
Entry in personal journal:
October 13, 2003
So many thought of the United States as being *the* global power. It must have come as a surprise, then, for Russia to be the last home of resistance. Not to me.
By the time the United States was "discovered," Russia endured invasion, revolution, cold and famine for many centuries.
Russia may have been a wounded bear, with the upheaval from the fall of Communism, but a wounded bear is a dangerous bear.
Like you, Alex.
You *still* amaze me, Alex. I had no idea you truly were a patriot...and a global one at that.
The information you stole that led to an extended vacation in a Tunisian prison was only part of your work. I had no idea you actually *cracked* the MJ tape...and passed on the secrets, along with others gathered over the years.
To Russia. America. The French. *Everyone.*
It's a shame, really. If they had actually used what you provided, humanity might have had a chance. Slim, but some. But they didn't understand the information until it was too late.
Russia resisted, and lost.
Humanity surrendered.
Resist or Serve? They now *serve,* Alex.
In large part due to me.
When you awaken, Fox and Alex, I hope you see this journal before you face your brave new hell. I want you to know *I* did this to you: my renegade son; my unrelenting obsession.
I love you both.
***
The shaking, withered hand gently placed the large, leather-bound book between the two pods. A slow, mocking smile stretched across his tight face as he tossed his final pack of Morleys atop the book. He took a last look at the two sleeping men, captivated yet again.
No one heard the last gunshot on Earth.
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Aqualegia's next!