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    Skin
    her job. “What are you getting at, Mulder?” Before Mulder could answer, a high-pitched war-ble reverberated through the room. The fax machine coughed to life, and Scully turned, startled. She watched as the pages began to slip quietly into the receiving bin.
    “Did someone kill a doctor?”
    Mulder followed a few paces behind as she crossed to the fax machine. “Not exactly. A nurse named Teri Nestor. But he did more than kill her. He destroyed his recovery room. He shoved an IV rack through the wall.
    Then he put his right hand two inches into a heavy oak door.”
    Scully lifted up the first three pages and began to leaf through them. Mulder could see her analytical mind going to work as she read the preliminary forensic evaluation he had requested from the homicide investigation.
    As for himself, he didn’t need the details to get himself inspired; his obsessive curiosity was already aroused.
    “They had the man’s picture on CNN, Scully. A small, gentle-looking professor. The kind of guy who gave me better grades than I deserved in college because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”
    Scully continued to read the pages coming out of the fax machine as she spoke from a corner of her pursed lips. It was obvious she had little interest in a case that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. “People kill for many reasons. Sometimes they kill without reasons. And we both know that size doesn’t matter. The human body can perform miracles of violence—when 37

    THE X-FILES
    properly provoked. Drugs, fear, pain, adrenaline; all of these things can incite impressive acts of violence. And all of these things are closely associated with hospital stays. This looks like a local homicide investigation, not a federal case—”
    Scully paused midsentence. Mulder noticed the sudden creases that appeared on her forehead. He looked at the page at the top of the pile in her hands and saw what appeared to be some sort of medical chart. The page was split into a dozen categories, with lists of numbers and long paragraphs of medical terminology. Mulder had only a rudimentary knowledge of medicine, and the numbers and paragraphs made little sense to him; but Dana Scully was an experienced physician. Before join-ing the FBI she had completed a residency in forensic pathology and had an expert’s grounding in biology, physics, and chemistry. It was the initial reason she had been chosen to act as a foil to Mulder’s fantastic quests. It was also part of the reason she had grown into much more than a foil; her rational, systematic approach often functioned as the perfect complement to Mulder’s brash and impulsive investigative style.
    “What is it?” Mulder asked, trying to read her unread-able eyes. He had requested the entire NYPD case file, and he had no way of knowing what Scully had stumbled upon.
    “It’s the preliminary autopsy report on the murdered nurse,” Scully responded. “There’s obviously been some sort of error.”
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    Skin
    Mulder waited in silence, as Scully continued reading the report. Finally, she looked up from the pages in her hands. “According to this autopsy report, Teri Nestor’s skull was crushed with the approximate force of two vehicles moving at more than thirty miles per hour.” Mulder felt a chill move down his back. His instincts had been correct. Despite Scully’s reservations, he had a feeling they weren’t heading back to Washington just yet.
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    3
    X Two hours later, Dana Scully watched her own reflection shimmer against the steel double doors of a carpeted elevator, as glowing circular numbers ticked upward above her head. Mulder was standing a few feet to her left, testing his jaw with his right hand as his left foot tapped an incomprehensible rhythm against the elevator floor. Behind him, a medical student in blue-green surgical scrubs leaned heavily against the back wall, his eyes half-closed from exhaustion. Scully knew exactly how he felt. The whole world