It's just senseless.
A man so young as Ray.
It's God's cruel trick, Nora.
Don't go blaming God, Curt.
You and I know what killed Ray.
Oh... we don't know anything for sure.
How does a 41-year-old man just...
wither away and die?
If any of us knew that,
we'd have done something about it.
Maybe it was just his time.
He was a young man when he went over, Curt.
Ray got sick because he fought in the Gulf.
Now, don't go there, Nora.
You just make it worse for yourself.
The doctors never said...
They never said!
That's right.
My husband's dead,
and no one knows why.
Maybe I have to find out myself.
They're going to pay for Ray's death-- whoever's to blame.
No one's to blame.
You're just upset.
You need a good night's sleep.
I don't want to sleep, I just...
You just want Ray back.
We all do.
Ray?
Car's registered to a Curtis Delario,
local address.
So far, he's been unreachable.
Well, it's highly unlikely that wherever he is,
he feels like picking up the phone this morning.
Muncie PD ran some calculations.
Based on the distance traveled,
the length of the skid marks,
they estimate the car was going at least 40
when it impacted the object, which, according to their math,
would require something 4,300 times the density of steel
to cause the damage we're looking at.
Hmm.
Interesting, isn't it?
I mean, uh... in light of the evidence.
Watch yourself.
From their size and shape, these look like men's shoes.
I hope you're not suggesting that what this car hit
was a man, Agent Scully, because there's no way.
Well, these impressions in the asphalt
look pretty fresh to me.
I admit to the coincidence,
but you know as well as I that if a man were here,
he'd be splattered from here to tomorrow,
and there's just no evidence of that.
You're right, which is suspicious in and of itself.
I mean, this car definitely hit something,
and the only evidence that we have
are these two prints.
You know I hate to ruin your beautiful theory
with ugly facts, but stop to examine the incident.
If a man were standing here, the driver would have stopped.
Well, it looks like he tried to.
Well, even so, if a man were
in the middle of the road with a car coming,
wouldn't he try to move?
Unless he wanted to stop the car.
Yes, but if nothing less than a block of steel
could stop this car,
then, ipso facto, it could not have been a man
standing in the street last night.
Or certainly no ordinary man.
Just tell me what happened! Where is he?!
Where...
Excuse me, ma'am?
John Doggett with the FBI.
You know about this?
What happened? Where is he?
Curtis Delario-- you know him?
He was a friend of my husband's.
They worked together at the salvage yard.
Now, I want you to calm down, Mrs...
Pearce. How am I supposed to calm down?
Finding this now, it...
We're not even sure he was driving the car last night.
He was.
He came over after my husband's funeral and then he left and...
Agent Doggett!
Meet Curtis Delario.
Guess he won't be much help clearing any of this up.
I think I got some answers.
So do I.
It wasn't the crash that killed Curtis Delario.
He was badly injured, but he was clearly still alive
when his body was pulled through the car's windshield.
Pulled?
Yeah, these five deep puncture marks
match five fingers of one hand.
You mean, someone just reached right in and...
Like a bowling ball.
That seems humanly impossible.
Certainly for any ordinary man.
Well, from the evidence I've gathered,
the man that did this is actually less than ordinary.
I was able to reconstruct a section of the windshield
and lift a print from the glass.
Whose?
Raymond Aloysius Pearce.
Husband of Nora Pearce,
woman I spoke with at the accident site.
Her recently deceased husband.
Well, if he was recently deceased,
then it must have been an old print.
Well, what you would think, except along with the print,
there was evidence of fresh blood,
and it belongs to Ray Pearce, too.
Mrs. Pearce.
Agent Doggett again.
Sorry to bother you,
but there are some things I need to go over.
Everything all right, Nora?
He's with the FBI.
Uh, this is Harry Odell.
He runs the salvage yard where Ray and Curt worked.
May I come in?
Agent Doggett, I don't understand.
Before, you were talking about Curt.
Now you want to talk about Ray?
What was their relationship, Mrs. Pearce--
your husband and Curtis Delario-- outside of work?
I know what their relationship is now.
They're both dead.
Going back through your husband's medical records,
it says that he died after a long, debilitating illness?
Gulf War Syndrome.
No one will cop to that, but I aim to prove it--
put the blame where it belongs.
I'm having trouble
proving something myself, Mrs. Pearce.
You signed a form to have your husband's body cremated,
but it appears it never happened.
What do you mean?
They gave me the ashes.
They were at the funeral.
Well, I can't find a record of Ray's body
ever even being at the crematorium.
Oh, for crying out loud.
Hasn't this woman grieved enough?
Let me get to the point, Mrs. Pearce.
Is it possible your husband is still alive?
Still alive?
Is this a joke?
Because we have evidence to suggest
that maybe your husband was involved
in the death of Curtis Delario.
Are you saying Ray faked his death?
We found Ray's blood and fingerprints on Curt's car.
I watched him die.
I nursed him when he was sick,
when he couldn't eat.
What you're saying is impossible.
He couldn't even walk or...
lift his head at the end.
Ray Pearce worked for me nine years.
He was a good man.
He never raised a hand to anyone.
Hey.
How you doing?
Ray, right?
They said you're new.
Rough night?
You're, uh...
you're eating the tin foil on the...
My name's Larina.
I help out around here.
Yeah, you might have some questions
about how it all works.
I don't know, it's-it's pretty basic.
Look, um...
I've been down the road and back a few times and...
I just want to say,
you're not alone, Ray.
I mean, I...
I've been where you've been and...
and sometimes it can help.
You know.
Sometimes it's good to just talk.
Make a connection.
You know what I'm saying, Ray?
So if there's anything I can do for you, you know...
You can leave me alone.
Okay.
God Almighty.
Ray.
It's true.
Oh, you got everybody wondering, man.
And they're looking for you.
They blame you for killing Curt.
Now, me and Curt,
we're your friends.
You can't blame this on us.
You got to believe me, it wasn't us.
Well, I can show you.
It's right here, Ray.
It wasn't me.
This time, you stay dead.
Scully.
Did you find anything
to go along with those holes in Curt Delario's head?
Paint on his hands and nails?
Paint?
Blue paint, specifically.
Hang on.
Uh... no.
Is it significant?
I don't know, but Harry was a busy boy last night.
He must've left Nora Pearce's right after I saw him,
right after he learned that Ray Pearce might still be alive.
To do what?
Well, it's pretty clear
that he was in his office shredding papers
when he was surprised by someone.
And you think it was Ray?
Well, somebody took a blast.
Blood all over the doors,
trailing down the stairs here to there--
massive blood loss.
But the man with the gun is dead.
I saw guys take hits in the war that kept right on fighting,
holding their insides in their hands.
I know it's not impossible.
But to do this to a man's head
after taking two barrels of buckshot...
Or being hit by a car.
I don't see how a man could possibly do this.
Well, maybe the question's not how,
but why.
I mean, if Ray Pearce did indeed kill this man,
what would be his reason?
I'm not sure, but I know where to start looking.
Hello?
Ray?
Ray.
You okay?
Somebody saw you come in with blood on you.
I can see it on your clothes.
Look, Ray,
I know it never does anybody any good
getting the cops involved, okay?
Look, I've been there, man.
I know what it's like to feel dark and alone.
I can get a doctor for you.
Get out.
Okay.
They're called Smart Metals.
The idea is
to one day build things that are indestructible.
Cars, equipment-- built of alloys with molecular memory.
If damaged, they'd rebuild into their original forms.
All by themselves?
That's amazing.
And right now, all a metallurgist's pipe dream.
But beside the point of your visit, I would imagine.
Well, you tell me.
I found a document at a crime scene
listing Chamber Technologies.
An employee number on the document was assigned
to a Dr. David Clifton.
Dr. Clifton's no longer here.
What happened to him?
He left the company.
I'm actually his successor in this department.
Do you have any reason to deal with a man named Harry Odell
or a business called Southside Salvage?
No, I don't deal with materials.
Nor did Dr. Clifton for that matter.
Our work here is all theoretical.
We have an environmental manager
who's in charge of waste management,
but disposal is done at TSD facilities,
definitely not city salvage yards.
Well, thanks for your time, Doctor...
Puvogel. German, no H.
You need me to spell it for you?
No, no. That's quite all right.
Thanks.
Scully.
Hey, it's Agent Doggett.
I'm at Chamber Technologies.
Did you find Dr. Clifton?
He's no longer with the company,
but his successor says his work here was entirely conceptual.
Everything's done on computers.
What kind of conceptual work?
Thing called Smart Metals.
It's pretty incredible.
Metal alloys designed to rebuild themselves.
I wonder.
As it happens,
Ray Pearce's illness is pretty incredible, too.
I've reviewed Ray's medical records from the VA.
What his wife was calling Gulf War Syndrome
is nothing of the kind.
His-his entire cellular makeup was affected
by exposure to some non-identifiable contaminant--
a metal.
What are you saying?
Ray Pearce has become some kind of metal man?
Because that only happens in the movies, Agent Scully.
Does it, Agent Doggett?
Tell you what.
I'll press this guy here a little more on the issue.
Well, maybe there's a reason
why he's not being perfectly forthcoming.
Police are still searching for clues
in last night's bloody robbery and murder
at Muncie's Southside Salvage.
Workmen found the body of 53-year-old
salvage yard manager Harry Odell
outside his office at approximately 7:30 this morning.
Detectives have refused to comment on the cause of death,
pending an autopsy, but sources close to the case describe it
as a vicious and grisly attack.
Robbery appears to be the motive behind...
This is Operator 525.
What city, please?
Uh, Muncie.
Number for a Raymond Pearce.
Sorry I'm late.
It's all right.
I-I just got the blood test back on Ray Pearce,
and it was indeed the same Ray Pearce
who was pronounced dead three days ago.
But that's not all.
By all medical standards, he should still be dead.
His blood has enough metal alloy in it to poison an elephant.
Except that he's still a man, Agent Scully,
and he's going to act and think like one,
even if he is more powerful than a speeding locomotive.
why kill his friends?
I mean, if he was wronged somehow,
wouldn't he go to them for solace?
I mean, to his wife, at least.
That's why I was late.
I asked myself that same question.
Ray was an outpatient at the VA.
He had a history of substance abuse.
Did some time for a couple of DUIs.
This was ten years ago.
Cleaned up his act.
He met Nora and married her in '91,
checked himself into a rehab and got straight.
This was a guy to root for, Agent Scully.
This was a guy that overcame adversity
and made a life for himself.
Until three days ago.
I've busted a lot of killers, Agent Scully,
and dollars for doughnuts, they fit a profile.
But the Ray Pearce in this file is no murderer,
let alone a guy that would hunt down his friends
and crush their skulls.
Agent Doggett, the man that we're speaking about
withstood impact from a speeding car
and two shotgun blasts at short range.
Even if we can find him,
who's to say we can stop him?
Make sure that door is secure!
Dr. Puvogel,
are you sure he can't open that door from the inside?
I've got a manual override on the door.
What the hell was that?
Ray Pearce.
Door is four inches thick.
I don't think it's going to hold!
Better hope it does,
'cause if it doesn't, he's coming after you,
and I don't know if we can stop him.
Open it up.
Get it open!
There's a rupture in the chamber.
I don't believe this.
Agent Doggett.
Look at this.
You see this?
What is that?
Is that blood?
Turning itself into metal.
Get him out of here!
Get him out of the building!
I didn't do anything to the man.
I didn't do anything!
You want to argue about it
or let us get you someplace safe?
Where's that? Where's safe?!
It's not in here.
My God.
It's true.
You shouldn't have come, Nora.
I shouldn't have come?
That's what you say to me?
I'm your wife.
I came here because you didn't come to me.
I had to have some stranger tell me.
Why didn't you come, Ray?
Because I'm not me.
I don't care what's happened.
Whatever it is, it's a miracle.
Don't go.
There's your miracle.
Ray, let me help you.
Please, let me help.
They've got to pay for this.
They've all got to pay.
Oh, my God.
You mind telling me what's going on here?
It's not enough that my life's been threatened.
I'm being treated like a criminal...
And not without cause.
Oh, my God.
You recognize this man?
We're assuming you don't know too many guys
in this particular condition.
It's not what it looks like.
Is this Dr. Clifton--
Dr. David Clifton-- your predecessor?
Yes.
You care to explain how he ended up
in a Chamber Technology hazardous waste barrel?
It was his idea. I was against it.
If you knew, you might've told me about this
when I first came to see you.
He was dying.
And he was afraid.
Of what?
That it would hinder progress,
or halt it.
That it would finish us.
Oh, you're finished.
One way or another,
your work here is done.
We didn't know this was going to happen!
We were just trying to push the envelope,
do the right thing for the company.
Then he got sick.
He was... he was working with an alloy
with a genetic algorithm built into it.
It converted electrical energy into mechanical.
Gave it memory.
And it poisoned him.
We immediately shut down the project.
But it was too late.
He didn't have any family.
His work was his life.
He wanted to leave us to continue working on the science.
And leave you
to ship this barrel and his body
to Southside Salvage, where it infected somebody else.
I don't know how that happened, I swear to God.
That barrel was supposed to go to a designated site.
Let me talk to you for a second.
I think he's telling the truth.
What the hell is she doing here?
Who is it?
Nora Pearce, Ray's wife.
Mrs. Pearce?
What are you doing here?
How do you know about this place?
She was looking for something.
Who'd you call, Mrs. Pearce?
Go.
Let's check in here.
Police!
Want us to take the woman in?
No, I want to talk to her first.
You might be interested to know that your husband
just broke through a second-story wall
and eluded a dozen cops at St. Clare House.
That please you, Mrs. Pearce?
It please you to know that he killed
a young woman there, a volunteer named Larina Jackson?
That makes three people.
Three people that he's killed, and for what?
Because they made him what he is.
They say
this young woman he killed tonight
had been concerned for him-- concerned
for Ray's welfare.
Whatever Ray is,
whatever he's become, it was an accident.
It was not those people's fault, Mrs. Pearce.
Harry and Curt knew about it.
No, they were innocent,
just like Ray was.
They didn't know that this was going to happen.
These people here knew about it. They got documents on it.
Oh, so that's what this is about?
This is about looking for somebody to blame?
Ray sent you here, didn't he,
to find that person; to get a name?
The Ray I know... died.
And the man responsible should pay for that.
So who is it?
It's the CEO here?
The owner?
Give us a name, Mrs. Pearce, before someone else has to die.
I... I never gave him a name.
Get her out of here.
Put her on 24-hour watch.
We'll be right outside, ma'am.
Nora?
They're right outside, Ray.
Did you get me the name?
You killed her.
The woman who called me.
For God's sake, Ray, why?
Why her?
She cared about you.
I need the name.
No one else needs to die, Ray.
You won't do it,
not to me.
I need the man's name.
He's in the house!
Go! Go!
Tell the FBI agents it's Harris.
Ray made me give him the name.
Owen Harris!
Ray's going to kill him!
No! Owen!
No! No!
Daddy!
No! No!
Owen Harris,
don't look away.
Look at me.
Why are you doing this?
Because you made me.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Southside Salvage.
I'm just an accountant.
Daddy!
Ray Pearce.
He came here to kill this man,
but something stopped him, didn't it?
This man, Owen Harris-- he begged for his life.
It might just have saved him.
His attacker got up and ran away.
Makes no sense.
Ray Pearce was a determined killer
looking for someone to blame.
Why stop here?
Wherever Ray Pearce went,
the answer to that question went with him,
but I can tell you why he came after Owen Harris.
It was his name Nora found in the file.
He was the accountant
who authorized the shipment of hazardous materials
to Southside Salvage.
But if Owen Harris is the guy Ray holds responsible,
why'd Ray let him live?
Well, I think that, uh, Nora Pearce may have been right.
Her husband died, or at least his body did.
Whatever killed those people was an abomination of a man.
It was a machine.
A machine?
Come on, a machine doesn't know blame, Agent Scully.
Nor mercy.
Unless what drove Ray to kill
is also what saved those people.
Some flicker of humanity.