Knowledge Kills

"Best you not get involved in this, Agent Mulder," the man says.

Mulder squints at him, tries to memorize his features, but his face is obscured by the hood pulled over his head and the dark glasses perched on his nose, not to mention the thick black of night. He frowns. Rubs the bridge of his nose. Squints some more.

"Why?" he asks. "Why shouldn't I get involved? You put me onto this. What has changed that you don't want me to know? What's changed your mind?"

The man purses his lips. He glances around the darkened alleyway. They are still very much alone.

"It is not what I don't wish for you to uncover, but what others want. There are people, Mulder, who would kill you if they knew you had gained such knowledge. You mustn't give them that chance. Stop your investigation. Survive."

Mulder shakes his head. "No. I can't stop. Not now. I've seen too much to let this go." He stares defiantly at the shadowy face of his 'informant'.

The man looks back for several seconds and then shrugs. "It's your life, Mr Mulder. Choose wisely what you do with it." He walks briskly away without another word.

Mulder narrows his eyes and watches him until he's out of sight and then leaves too, to hit the books.

Nothing will keep him from the truth, the thread of death included.