Agent of Chaos (The X-Files: Origins #1)(7)

“You don’t actually believe any of this alien stuff, do you?” Gimble gave Mulder an incredulous look.

“Anything is possible. It wouldn’t be the first time that the government lied. Look what happened with Watergate.” Mulder remembered hearing about the Watergate scandal on the news. It felt like the moment in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy pulled back the curtain on the wizard.

He had witnessed firsthand how easily people accepted the explanations they were given. After his sister vanished, the authorities had conducted a massive search. When it turned up nothing, they decided Samantha’s disappearance was an isolated incident—and overnight, everyone on the island did, too.

Except Mulder.

“Watergate will look like a bunch of children arguing on the playground compared to what our so-called government is involved in this time. They think they’re in control, but they aren’t the architects behind the design,” the Major said.

Gimble blew out a loud breath and slumped against the sofa, tossing one of his game dice in the air. He seemed to have heard this before.

The Major rushed over to the map. “The world is in chaos. War, famine.” He tapped an article on the map. “And crime. But Chaos can’t exist without Law.”

Chaos can’t exist without order, was probably what the Major meant, but Mulder wasn’t about to correct him. “Mind if I take a look?”

The Major stood taller. “Go ahead.”

Mulder moved closer to the gigantic map of the Washington, DC, metro area taped to the wall. Colored pushpins marked specific locations, and the Major had strung a web of lines between them—the waterfront in Southwest DC; a residential area in Annapolis, Maryland; a stretch of forest in Severn, Maryland.

Newspaper articles with grainy pictures were pinned next to each location, along with random items, like half-finished word searches, glossy black-and-white crime scene photos that looked real, and fortunes from fortune cookies. A mug shot of a woman with mascara smeared down her face, after she was charged with pimping teenage girls, was pinned next to a Washington Post headline about a madam whose body was found in a waterfront dumpster. Under the Annapolis pushpin, the Major had saved a longer article with the headline FATAL OVERDOSE EXPOSES ANNAPOLIS DOCTOR’S REAL PROFESSION. He had circled the phrase opiate-dealing psychiatrist discovered dead. Mulder’s gaze followed the black line from the Annapolis pin to the Severn pin, where the Major had taped a newspaper clipping about a man who had been killed in the woods by wild animals.

“What is all this?” Mulder asked without taking his eyes off the map.

“You don’t want to hear about it,” Gimble said from his spot on the sofa.

“Actually, I do.”

The Major glanced around the room before he answered. “I’m tracking murders in the metro area.”

“But it says the psychiatrist overdosed.”

“Do you believe everything you read, Mulder?” the Major asked.

Mulder smiled, thinking about his American history test. “No, sir.”

“There’s only one book you need.” The Major sorted through a stack of books under the map and slid a thin green paperback from the middle.

“Tell me when it’s over,” Gimble called out.

The Major handed the book to Mulder. On the cover a warrior with snow-white hair and skin held a black sword above his head below the title—Stormbringer. It was the same book he’d seen multiple copies of earlier.

The one the Major had started reading after Gimble’s mom died.

“Michael Moorcock figured out what was happening before the rest of us,” the Major said, tapping on the author’s name. “He realized mankind had upset the balance between Chaos and Law, throwing the world into chaos.”

Mulder wasn’t sure what a fantasy novel had to do with it, but the Major was right about one thing. The world was out of control. People were killing one another in wars, and on the streets, with drugs and violence.

“It’s an interesting theory.” Mulder handed the novel back to the Major and watched as Gimble’s dad slid it back into the stack.

“I have proof,” the Major continued. “I discovered a pattern. They were not random murders and accidents, like the press reported.” He gestured at the map. “All these people were murdered, and their deaths are connected.”

“How do you figure? The guy in Severn got attacked by wild animals.” Mulder moved closer to the map. Maybe he had missed something. “How are their deaths connected? Did the victims know each other?” He felt guilty for encouraging the Major’s delusions, but he wanted to hear his theory.

“No. But they did have one important thing in common.”

“Dad!” Gimble bolted off the sofa. It was the first time Mulder had ever heard Gimble refer to his father as anything other than the Major. “Mulder doesn’t need to hear your theory. We talked about this.”

“Your friend wants to know the truth, Gary. He doesn’t want to live in the dark like you do.”

Mulder felt the tension ratchet up in the room. It reminded him of the heated interactions he had with his own father. He didn’t want to put Gimble in that position, but if he didn’t hear the Major out now, it might cause more drama.

“It’s okay.” Mulder gave Gimble a bored look, as if he were throwing the old guy a bone.