Date:         Wed, 14 Feb 1996 10:00:10 -0700
Reply-To:     Hank Wyckoff <wyckoff@AG.ARIZONA.EDU>
Sender:       Highlander TV show stories <HLFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
From:         Hank Wyckoff <wyckoff@AG.ARIZONA.EDU>
Subject:      Retry (20/20) Frostmelt -- HL Posting

Knight/X-Files/Sharpe's Rifles

A Continuation of: When the Veil is Lifted
                   The Duplicity

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter will conclude Part 3 of the
Cycle of Axer.  Again, I must thank all the loyal fans who
sent me letters of encouragement, as well as the "We miss
you!" letters during the vacation.   Every time I finish a
part, I get some e-mail asking if I plan to go on.

The answer is YES.  I have three MORE parts to write.  The
Muses (I have a strong suspicion that they're the Keebler
Elves) have chained me to this keyboard and demanded that I
write the story that they give me.  If you've been having a
growing suspicion that I'm kind of weird and twisted -- I
get my inspiration from the Keebler Elves.

So... here we go!  Grab that Gibber-Be-Gone and make sure to
fasten your limb restraints!

*********************************************************

Chapter 20

Mulder woke up in the igloo.  Pain flooded all of his nerves
-- even the ones he didn't know he had.  A sharper pain
flooded through his system as Kate put a hot cloth on his
forehead.  She easily held him down.

"It's a wonder you're still alive," she snapped.  "You were
almost a block of ice when we got to you."  She noticed the
look in his eyes.  "And don't be getting any ideas!"

Mulder closed his eyes.  "What happened?"

"You missed everything."  Skinner's voice came from the
other side of Kate.

Mulder sat up with a jerk, barely missing a head-butt with
Kate.  "Skinner?!"  He was there, looking even bulkier than
he did a few days ago.  His eyes seemed downcast, though, as
if someone in the family had died and he was desperately
trying to hide it.  "What are you doing up here?"  Kate
pushed him back down.

"Powys brought me.  He also brought along Cancerman and Mr
X, but Cancerman didn't make it.  His parachute failed."

"Did the Viking come yet?"

"He came and left.  Maybe Powys knows what it was all about,
but it still doesn't make a lot of sense to me."  He
grimaced, "And you better hope you know your physics.

Mulder cringed, then tried to get up again, but Kate started
to get stern.  "Now you stay down!  You're not going
ANYWHERE!"

Perhaps it was the next day when he was let out of the
igloo.  They would stay here for a full week until a plane
would pick them up -- Mulder wanted to scream in agony.  All
that time to think about all the opportunities that he
missed.

It was midday when he wandered around the ruins -- he had no
idea what time it was, since the sun wouldn't be visible for
another few weeks -- it was the weather as much as the time
of year.  He saw the still corpse of Odin, covered with a
layer of frost.  Two fallen ravens lay next to him.  His
spear was left untouched, and the arrow that killed him was
still red and white from two days ago.

Mulder kicked at the arrow.

"I'm sorry you missed it, but that's the way the coin
falls."  Powys came up behind him.  Mulder hadn't noticed
him approach.

"What happened?"

"You mean they didn't tell you?"  He slowly blew out his
breath.  "Frey chased Odin down here, and Odin took the
Viking hostage."

"That much I know!" Mulder interrupted him.  "But who was
the Viking?  Why did he come?  Why did he go?"

"So *that's* what's puzzling you?  It's very simple.  The
Viking is something of a gardener or caretaker.  He takes
care of Yggdrasil -- and like any tree, it needs to be
tended.  He comes once a century to check up on things, and
moves on."

"Why did the Vikings come here in the first place?"

"It was a dangerous time.  The roots of Yggdrasil needed to
be guarded.  Back then, Odin wanted to sever the roots and
branches, rather than bind them together."

Mulder accessed his memories.  "Yggdrasil.  The World Tree.
Wasn't it a tree that touched earth, heaven, and hell?  If
it's here, why can't I see it?"

"Yggdrasil is real enough, but I think you'll be
disappointed to find out that it's an analogy, just like a
lot of things in mythology and religion.  You remember that
book you read -- Schroedinger's Cat?  There's a diagram in
there that tries to visualize the passage of time under the
many-worlds theory.  What does it look like?"

"A tree."  Mulder's brain got slammed by the high voltage
that comes with realization.

"The roots of quantum mechanics lie in the observations and
philosophy of the ancient peoples.  The Vikings didn't think
about the passage of time that way, but the Aesir did, and
they named Yggdrasil after its branching."

"Are you saying that space and time has a gardener?"

"More like a ... friend.  Olaf likes to visit the tree that
he planted.  As it grows and develops over the years, it
renews his own life."

"You're not making sense."

"What was the function of Yggdrasil?"

He tried to remember, "It was used by the Aesir to travel
between heaven and earth -- Thor was too heavy to use
Bifrost, so they used the Tree."

"Exactly," Powys tried to hide a laugh, but failed.  "But if
you read between the lines, you'll realize it had nothing to
do with weight.  Thor was a rather dense individual who was
more concerned with fighting and killing than anything else.
Travelling by means of the Rainbow takes a lot more
conscious direction and intelligence than Thor could handle.
I'd say that the Vikings had a hell of a sense of humor when
they wove that tale."

Mulder just stared at him.

Powys looked frustrated.  "Heavy?  Dense?  Thick-sculled?...
You have no sense of humor!"  He threw his hands up into the
air.

Mulder groaned at the bad joke, now that he got it.  "Quit
the bad jokes!  Just make your point!"  He was starting to
get short-tempered.

Powys sighed, "The World Tree is another play on words -- a
bad joke, as you might call it.  Think about the logic chain
here: World Tree => world => tree => bridge => world to
world.  See?"

"So you're saying that the Tree was used to travel between
worlds?"  Mulder looked upwards longingly -- perhaps a touch
of zeal in his eyes.

"You're so close!  Not 'worlds' in the sense astronomers
think.  I mean worlds in the sense of 'parallel' world!  The
many worlds that Schroedinger's Cat says must exist.  Think
about what's involved in travelling between the worlds.  The
Invisible Ones have tried to create a biological means of
traveling between the worlds, but it's not possible without
creating insanity."

"I don't get it."

"Is this the product of universal education?" cried Powys
loudly.  "Think about it!  You've had more education than a
single Viking ever had!  In order to travel the worlds, you
have to travel through time, and the only way we could do it
biologically would tear our minds apart!  But we CAN do it
through mechanical means!"

Powys pointed at the empty sky above the ruins.  "That,
Mulder, is the most elaborate device ever made!"

"WHAT are you pointing at?!  I can't see a damned thing!
And what happened to it being only a metaphor?"

Powys shook his head, "You still don't get it, do you?  Look
-- let's just accept that you don't understand, and leave it
at that, agreed?"

"NO!!" he drew out his gun, pointing it at the unconcerned
Powys.  "I've come too far, and I won't leave without some
answers!"

"What do you think I've been giving you all along?  Insane
ramblings?"  He paced back and forth, "Think about it this
way.  Yggdrasil is a CREATED means of travel, but it's not
like a bridge or a bus.  Though it was created, it's also a
living, natural thing -- from a certain point of view."

"From a certain point of VIEW?!?!" ranted Mulder.  "Give me
a black or white answer!!"

"What do you think I'm trying to give you?  Now just listen.
There's a good man."  He patted Mulder on the head like a
marvelous child.  "Since none of my explanations have worked
so far, think of it this way.  I know that you have been
near the lands of the Anasazi.  Have you noticed the ancient
roads that were build there?  Perfectly straight -- even
going down cliffs and up mountains.  They were sacred roads
that had a meaning beyond simple utility.  That's about the
best analogy I can give you."

"I don't want an analogy!!  I want an explanation!!"

"Mulder," Powys finally got irritated, "you're as dense as a
brick.  If that keeps you from understanding me, then that's
your own bloody fault!"

"O.K.!  I'll drop that for now."  He kicked the ground some
more, putting away his gun.  "Tell me why Odin was so
dangerous.  What was he trying to do?"

"Odin was a rare man.  Do you remember how Odin came to
gather the runes?"

Mulder's eyes widened.  "YES!!  Loki sent it to Scully
through the e-mail, but it was different!  It said:

     I hung from a tree for nine long nights,
     My head upraised to the stars.
     The cold, black wind has taken flight.
     My senses become marred.

     I sold my eye for wisdom.
     I sold my soul for strength.
     The runes slip past my nailed hands
     And into the darkened gate.

     I've made my dearest sacrifice
     For the sake of saving the world.
     But whatever good is wisdom
     If you can't remember a word?"

"That's the true story," nodded Powys.  "Odin was the most
knowledgeable of the Aesir, and he opened his mind to the
true nature of the universe."  He shook his head, "What we
sense is not truly what is.  Our senses are TRANSDUCTIONS of
what is real -- and any scientist will admit that -- and
they're so for a good reason.  They FILTER what is real.
The simple fact is that we can't handle reality... and
neither could Odin.

"He saw reality as it truly was, and lost his mind.  The
fact that he had good intentions were meaningless, because
he brought about the end of his world.  Though the Aesir
live on, as do the Vanir, the world they know is irreparably
dead."

"But what was he trying to do?"

"I can't visualize dimensional geometry higher than the
number three, but I think Odin was insane enough to see it
in some sense as it actually was.  He wanted to mesh
together all the branches and create one world -- the
infinite merged into one.  Can you imagine the mental
maelstrom?"

Something else clicked in Mulder's mind.  "What is Bifrost?"

"The Rainbow."

Mulder thought about it some more.  "Is that real too?"

"You're talking about the large-case Rainbow?  It's
certainly real.  What's so special about a rainbow?"

"I contains the whole spectrum of light."

"Can light be used for physical transportation?"

Mulder was shocked at the implications.  "It can't be!  Star
Trek is one thing, but this is the real world!"

"Go back to your assumptions.  Follow the logic chain.  I
think you'll find your truth.  If you're going to pronounce
your 'truth' with an upper-case 't', I think you'll only be
able to find it by deductive reasoning.  Although I had a
strong urge to kill Doyle, his character said it best,
'Eliminate the impossible, and no matter what remains, no
matter how improbable -- must be the truth.'"

"You misquoted him!"

"So?  You got the message, and that's what counts."

Even when the plane arrived by the end of the week to take
them back, there were still too many holes for Mulder to
fill with logic alone.  He was so deep in thought that he
never even noticed that Krycek had kept his two swords and
remained in Canada.

****************************************

Duncan and Richie sat in the Paris boat, sipping some wine
and mulling over events.

"It just doesn't make any sense!" fumed Richie.  "Why would
the guy have such an elaborate setup there for a bunch of
dummies?"

"Maybe they weren't just dummies...  What if they were
more?" a dawning revelation shook Duncan to the bone.  "What
if those dummies had speakers, microphones, and videocameras
inside?  It looked like a council room -- what if it really
*was* a council room?  I never thought to look for any wires
-- did you?"

Richie jumped.  "No.  I never thought of it!  But why do
it?"

"It works if you want to keep anonymity, but have the
freedom of talking face-to-face."

They felt the presence of an immortal, and stood up with
their swords drawn.  Another presence joined them -- from
opposite sides came --

     Duncan: "Sharpe?!"
     Richie: "Adam?"
     Sharpe: "Methos?!"
     Methos: "Sharpe?!"

********************************************

Powys sat in a Dublin pub, sipping some Guinness, reading
the morning paper.  Several third page articles talked about
the baffling events going on in the rural areas throughout
the whole island -- unexplained riots in isolated villages,
ransacking of churches and cathedrals, the assassination of
IRA members, and the vanishing of a mysterious cult leader
named Frey.  His disappearance only strengthened the
activities of a cult naming themselves the Vanir.

"That can't be right," muttered Powys.  "Immortals are the
Vanir!"

Some nosy old woman peered at him with an odd expression,
shrugged, and went back to sipping her coffee.

************************************************

Mulder knocked on Scully's door, holding a basket of
assorted flowers.  He didn't know what else to get her.

"Come in," she said.  He stepped on through.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

"Fine," she was barely able to smile.  "The doctors say that
I can eat dry steak in a week or two."  The bruising had
left, and only a little bit of swollenness was left on her
jaw.

He sat down, "Has Skinner dropped by?"

Her forehead wrinkled a little bit.  "Yeah.  He stopped by
yesterday -- something changed him up in Canada.  What
happened up there?"

He told her *everything* that had happened up there, as well
as his conversation with Powys on the ruins.

"I know that Skinner used the hammer.  Maybe it affected him
the same way the spear affected Duncan?"

Scully was skeptical.  "I don't know...  The chemical tests
proved negative, so I don't know if the weapons are the true
source of the odd behavior."  She paused for a moment.
"What do you think about what Powys said?"

Mulder nearly tore off his own head in frustration.  "I
don't KNOW!  I mean -- I WANT to believe him, but I CAN'T!
It's so preposterous!  I just can't believe any of it --
it's an imaginative theory, I'll grant you that -- but it
just can't be possible.

"...But it ties everything together so nicely..." he sat
down.

Scully shook her head, and regretted it.  //Sometimes I
think it would be kinder to just shoot him.//

******************************************

Joe Dawson was wiping off some of the tables.  It was 1 AM,
and by law, the bar had to close.  That's why he looked
startled when the door opened.  In came a young kid in a
business suit.

"Hey, we're closed!" snapped Joe.  The kid held the inside
of his left wrist up so Joe could see it.  "Oh.  You could
have told me first!"

"I just got into town."  The kid was pretty weary, like he
hadn't had any sleep in weeks.  "I need a shot of rum."

Wordlessly, Joe poured a glass full of coke on the rocks and
spiked it with some rum.  He handed it to the kid, who
sipped it and nodded.  "You don't remember me, but I sort of
worked under you.  You're the only one I can trust."

Joe sat down.  "What happened?"

"It all started in Washington D.C. a few days back..."

The kid must have gone through several glasses of rum before
he could calm down and stop gripping the table.

"So, while the others were busy leaving, I crept up to
Odin's body."

"What happened?" asked Joe intently.

The kid said nothing -- the sleep deprivation and rum had
put him to sleep.  Not even a shout could wake him up.

Joe let him lie there, finished the rum glass, and finished
up closing shop.  Not too long afterward, he scratched his
head and made a phone call.

**********************************************

Kate and Axer were at the Raven, talking at a table in the
far corner, holding hands over the table.  They looked like
teenage lovers by the puppy-dog looks in both of their
faces.

                    **********

LaCroix was shaking his head sadly at those two, but he soon
got an even better reason to shake his head: Nick came in
through the door and made a straight line towards him.

"Ahh... Nicholas.  Perhaps you need help in a police
investigation?"

"No," laughed Nick.  "I came here for a drink."

"I don't serve your kind here," LaCroix was stern.

"No!" he snorted.  "A *real* drink!  It's a long story..."

With raised eyebrows, LaCroix grabbed a Red Rider and
unpopped the cork.  He sat down with Nick, who started
talking, "You see, this guy came into the morgue early this
evening..."

                    ***********

Kate gripped Axer's hand tightly.  "Promise me there won't
be any more wild adventures!"

"I'm staying retired this time!" he smiled.  "Nothing can
drag me out."  He kissed her on the neck, holding back a
smile as her neck tensed, and her hand tightened even more.

"You'd better be right," she ran her fingers through his
fine, long hair.  "And you'd better wipe that beard off your
face!"

Before Axer could say anything, his eyes became shifty.  He
stood up with a hand on his sword handle.

                    *************

LaCroix was listening to Nick with interest, but his
attention became diverted.  He stood up and looked around.
It wasn't a vampire he sensed -- there were too many here to
tell who was coming and going.  He hadn't sensed Axer since
that one day a few months back.

//Who could it be?...//

                    ************

"Axer?  What is it?" Kate sounded a little worried.

"An immortal.  Who could it be?..."  The feeling faded
somewhat.  "He must have moved on..."  He sat back down with
Kate, but the feeling suddenly grew stronger.

"Axer," smiled Coleen.  Her sword was worn as openly as her
smile.

"Axer?" Kate looked at Coleen, then at Axer a bit
uncertainly.

*******************************************************

This concludes Frostmelt, Part III of the Cycle of Axer
Stay tuned for Reading The Endtrails (Part IV)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------
Henry Wyckoff  -- wyckoff@ag.arizona.edu -- homepage:
http://ag.arizona.edu/~wyckoff
Q:   Want to know how to conserve bandwitdth?
A:   We all stay off the web and watch the servers shut down.
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