X-Philes for Mulder

Oh, hey! I see you found the place. Little bit off the beaten track, isn't it?

Let's go for a walk. There's something I'd like to show you.

See that light down the end of the hallway? There, seeping out from under the door? Yep, that's where we're headed. Careful of the boxes and filing cabinets.

Yeah, there are a lot of them.

Bit dusty, isn’t it? Kind of makes you think nobody has been here in a long time. There’s some truth to that. With a focus in other directions, with a change in priorities, it’s hard to get the right people to pay attention to the details, the things that matter… well, that matter to so many of us.

See that folder on the shelf? I bet there’s a tale or two in there yet to be told. How sad that there’s nobody to tell the good stories any more.

Here it is.

No, they didn't remove it. They can't. Brings back memories, doesn't it?

What’s that? No, no, I don’t need a key. The door opens under the right touch.

See?

I bet it looks familiar to you. It should. It wasn’t so long ago we were here, was it? So many things have changed since then.

Take a look around, we’ve got plenty of time.

Yeah, I can see that. I remember the day it was replaced. This place looked so strange without it. But things got back on track eventually, didn’t they?

The photo? Yep, it’s the same one. Everything in here is as it should be. Everything that should be here is. Nobody can enter here to take anything away from this place.

Hallowed ground? You might call it that. To some, it certainly is.

Sit down, grab a few seeds if you want, and let me tell you a tale.

Back in 1993, we were introduced to the world of an everyday hero, an ordinary man with an extraordinary sense of purpose, determination, loyalty, strength of character and… and, well, humour. This man had a quest, a quest which would capture and enthrall millions for many a year.

He wasn't a hero because of his success. He was a hero because he didn't succeed, because those within and without turned their backs on justice and contrived to make him fail. He was a hero despite the personal losses, despite failing to achieve all he set out to achieve, because he continued to strive for those goals, to battle against those who would stand against him, to be true to himself.

And to his partner.

Yes, like many a great hero, this man did not stand alone. From the start he was joined by a woman who, while a polar opposite in many respects, shared many of the same characteristics of our hero. Loyalty. Determination. Strength of character. A sense of purpose - which changed over time as his quest became hers, too, but it was there nonetheless.

This was a partnership like no other, and it was an interest in their tale, and interest in how they survived the journey, that made the journey worth watching.

Years passed, and through many changes the story continued to be told. And the avid listeners continued to follow the journey of the hero and his partner. The telling of the tale did not always go smoothly. There was confusion, frustration, disbelief on occasion, but ultimately so many endured and continued the journey because they were too captivated by the hero and his partner to turn away.

There came a time, however, when the end of the journey was close, when outside forces would dictate that it was time for the hero to rest, to bow out with the dignity and grace he so deserved after such a long and arduous battle. It was fitting. They had both travelled a long road. Even the best stories must come to an end. There is a time when the book should be closed and placed back on the shelf to be taken down another day and re-read with fondness.

Oh, if only the ending had been what he deserved!

Such was not to be.

His temporary disappearance was turned into a farce. Yes, it was an opportunity for change. But it was also an opportunity for lies to be told. And it was the lies that served to undermine the efforts to change.

The search is on they said, yet no one looked, not even his partner.

We have not forgotten him, they said, yet his name was barely uttered even by those who had cried at his departure, however briefly.

He can never be replaced, they assured us, yet the stand-in was made to bear similar scars, and assumed his place far too quickly to give truth to such assurances. That those around him, those who had been loyal to the former incumbent, were made to quickly accept his replacement spoke more of the ruination of their character than the acceptance of this new player.

How could any interest in change be possible when the hero we followed for seven years was barely remembered? How could we accept with arms wide open when our hearts were broken by the careless and thoughtless tossing aside of those symbols of our hero? We knew he was out there. We knew he was suffering. We knew he was coming back. But rarely was his name spoken during those dark times.

Oh, but when he was needed, his name was shouted from the hilltops, in voices so loud it was both reassuring, yet amusing in a sad way. He's returning!, they cried. He will be back!!, they shouted. Never before had we heard such a noise. It would have been gratifying had we had any faith that the rest of the tale would be told with the same enthusiasm. But given what came before, hopes were not high.

Alas, our fears were realized. Before the end, the hero was re-made into a guest player, a mere afterthought - and barely that - in the story of his own life. Did it matter where he had been? How he felt? Did anyone care what impact recent events would have on his perception of the past, and his focus for the future? Where he was going now? And why?

Not one iota. Not by those telling the tale.

In pursuit of an uncertain future the storytellers did not give due respect to the present and the past. They forgot the man. They forgot the partnership. They forgot the reason the journey was commenced. They forgot everything which had made the story worth telling in the first place. Like so much dirty water he was ousted from his world with no acceptable justification, with no thought to history or sense.

With no thought to how the listeners would react.

But as he left that small office, and walked down that darkened hallway, the audience went with him. What point to listen to a story when the storytellers had forgotten why you tuned in? What reason to lend allegiance to a new generation when such allegiance had not been earned? How to care for the tale of new players when the storytellers cared not for the old?

There is no point, no reason, no care. Not for that which is.

But there is still that which the audience holds true, that which was. Because there is something the audience has which the storytellers can never touch. They hold in their heads, in their hearts, in their memories the essence of that tale, of that universe, of that hero and their partnership.

Technology and fond memories will always transport the audience back to what was the essence of this tale, to the heart and souls of the journey.

Do you understand what I'm saying, Mulder? Others may come into the office, but it's not this office. Your name was not forgotten here. Your nameplate was not left shoved into a desk drawer. Nobody came up with a paltry reason for you to abandon everything you had worked for and were still hoping to achieve.

You see, Mulder, this room is inviolate. It belongs to the listeners, to your audience.

And it will always be here. No matter what is done, no matter what lies are told to defend that which was done, no matter what other players may enter the story, none can change what is here. They can't take down the walls, they can't change the plate on the doors. They can't sell the nameplate. The poster will never burn as long as one soul who took that journey with you continues to hold your universe in their memories with fondness and a belief that it was the players, and not the play, which captured the hearts of so many.

So you see, we can leave now. We can walk away secure in the knowledge that all will be as it should be.

Come on. There are other cases to be investigated, other journeys to take.

Leave the desk lamp on. It’s that candle in the window for those who want to visit the classic XF universe.

And let me tell you, it gets pretty crowded in here sometimes.