Date: Thu, 29 Sep 1994 03:38:00 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Hobert@AOL.COM Subject: CHOICES, Part 06 of 20 "I'm getting one every... three minutes," Freddie informed the group. "I'd lay odds their computer is down, and we're getting an uncompressed signal." A few keystrokes confirmed his theory. "Main systems appear to be dead. They have lights and environment, and that's about it. They don't even act as if their getting anything we're sending." Suddenly the screen went black, letters and numbers appearing, moving fast across the monitor. Freddie dived back in, keys clacking up a storm. He stopped, his hazel eyes racing across the screen, lighting with recognition. "It's a binary file! They're downloading a file to us." "How long?" Richie asked, breathing down the man's neck. With Jeremiah safe, the Immortal's concern shifted to Gregor and Scott Keller. Everyone at Freedom realized that one little misstep, and the crew of the PROMETHEUS could be breathing vacuum. Space had always been a very nasty teacher. Freddie hesitated. "There's no way to tell. Minutes, hours. Knowing Scott, I'd say they'd cram as much as possible in a relatively safe window. Say, thirty minutes." He leaned back in the chair, letting the computers capture the data. "Damn," Richie cursed, banging the station with his fist. "And I'm suppose to wait." He grinned, trying to turn his impatience into a joke, relieved that his son, for now, was safe. Freddie scowled at him doubtfully. "You could always make yourself useful, say, by going to get me something to eat from the cafeteria. I have been sitting here most of the afternoon..." Freddie gave his boss a wink. "Unless, of course, you want *me* to walk all the way down there, and leave this unattended..." Richie laughed. "I don't think I've sunk to slave driver status, yet. What do you want?" As Freddie opened his mouth to reply, the Immortal cut him short. "Actually, they only serve one thing. Soybean ala swill. Will that be one plate or two?" Freddie nodded his head to the new arrivals. "I can wait. I think your friends shouldn't. And eat something, boss. I'll buzz if anything changes." "You're right, as always," Richie sighed. He looked over at Fitz and Duncan, talking quietly at the inactive medical station. {Why does it always hit the fan at once?} Turning back to Freddie, watching him absently playing with a pen, he quietly asked, "Have I ever thanked you for dumping Space Command and joining us?" The pen froze, the mischievous gleam flashing in the blond man's eye. "You can thank me on my next paycheck..." "You get a paycheck? Who made that mistake?" Richie incredulously wondered. He patted the top of the monitor twice before leaving, Freddie's low chuckled followed him across the room. Before turning back to the monitor, something else flashed briefly in Freddie's eyes. "You made it. And it's going to be the last one you make, Ryan..." he softly breathed, dampening the hate once more. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "So," Duncan began, spearing the green thing that marginally qualified as lettuce. "You *think* someone is *maybe* trying to sabotage the Mars program. Any ideas who? Let alone why?" He dropped his fork on the plate, shoving the ugly looking food away from his face. He scowled as much from the smell as from what Richie was suggesting. "I have a few far fetched thoughts, but nothing I even want to dwell on until we get something that resembles proof," Richie answered, his mouth full of the mushy brown mass. Duncan's stomach turned as he watched his old student eating the revolting stuff. Fitz just sat, smoking his pipe. Duncan tried again. "Today, something went wrong with the Mars mission. Yesterday, your shuttle blew up just after liftoff. Anything else to add?" "If we're just throwing things out, add the assassination of the President, Carl Robinson," Fitz said, gesturing with his pipe. He had declined any food, watching the other two instead. "Carl... Robinson? He was President?" Duncan looked stunned, Richie and Fitz surprised by his reaction. "He was... beheaded?" "Last year, in the White House. That took planning," Richie pointed out. He switched to the orange pudding, shoveling it into his mouth. Duncan grimaced again, turning to look at Fitz. "I don't think it had to do with us, Master Richie," Fitz countered, folding his arms. "But I do think the raid on the Foundation was part of it. If they just wanted your heads, why go out of their way and torch the place? It smacked of sabotage." "That was when Grace..." Duncan began, looking at Richie, then quickly looking away. The redhead had stopped cold, fork halfway to his mouth, frozen. Richie put the food down, wiping his hands on his napkin before tossing it on the plate. He got up, grabbing Duncan's plate unasked, and carried them over to the washing area. "Still a sore subject, I see," the Highlander commented. Fitz nodded. "The young man has been through a lot these last two decades. More so than anyone, mortal or Immortal should be exposed to." The Englishman looked as if he wanted to add more, but the man in question had begun walking back. "If we're stretching," Richie stated when he got back, taking charge of the conversation, "I think New York should be considered." He ignored the comment about Grace, choosing to barrel ahead instead of reflecting back. Duncan's look clearly indicated the subject would be broached again. "What about New York?" he asked instead. Fitz gestured to Richie, indicating the younger Immortal should give the explanation. "I don't think such a virulent form of the Black Plague could have naturally evolved. If it had, I think someone would have found a cure by now." The redhead took his seat again, picking up his glass and taking a drink. Duncan looked a little perturbed. "Pardon me for reminding everybody, but I've been out of touch for twenty years. WHAT ABOUT NEW YORK??" Richie leaned back, looking at the ceiling. "It was Christmas time, back in 2009. David, the kids, Augie and I were at the loft, decorating the tree. Connor walked in, was about to come down the stairs, and he fainted. Fell all the way down the steps. When we got to him, he was dead. We were worried, of course, but not panicking, but then Augie started clutching his throat. I watched him collapse as well, David was yelling to the kids. My ears were ringing, the kids were following David to the stairs. I crawled after them until I keeled over, dead myself. Sometime later, I woke up, Augie shaking me. Everyone in New York City was dead, almost instantaneously. We found David's body the next day in front of the bank across the street, the kids sealed in the vault with one of our scuba tanks. Simon was dead, but Jerry, Johnny, Mel, and Maxey survived. They won't talk about it, and I can't say I blame them. Trapped in the dark with a dead body..." Richie's voice faded to silence, his eyes seeing elsewhere. Or elsewhen. "It wasn't contagious?" Duncan finally asked, breaking the spell. Flashbacks, especially painful ones, were a terrible curse of Immortals, one to be avoided if possible. Richie sighed, a single tear running down his cheek. "No. But it hasn't gone away either. Sixteen years later, and you still can't get within ten miles of the city limits. A true ghost town. What's left of the bodies are still there, rotting away... It was horrible." Duncan tried to imagine the horror. It reminded him of the battlefields, the dead bodies lying broken and bleeding, the moans of the dying. He had never thought twice about it until he met Darius. {Darius opened my eyes to many things. It's a shame Richie couldn't spend more time with him.} Fitz cleared his throat before breaking in. "I still think the Watcher's death you told me about wasn't an accident." Duncan thought back to the time Richie graduated from college. "That's right, he tripped and fell over the sofas, breaking his neck. Travis, wasn't it?" He tried to recall specific details of that night. "From the stories I've heard," Fitz continued, putting out the pipe, "everybody fought, ran, and played all over that apartment. No one ever got so much as a splinter, and this guy up and falls. Especially on such a critical night. Just doesn't spell 'accident' to me." Richie spoke up, returned to the present. "The kitchen was a little slippery, but still. Why would someone break into my apartment and kill him? If it was an Immortal, he'd know off the bat it wasn't me. No forced entry, nothing stolen, so why kill him?" Fitz wagged a finger. "Maybe it was the other way around. Travis walked *in* on someone. Dawson did say he left a message in the apartment for him. He could have entered, startled whoever, and gotten killed to silence him." He sounded as if he had caught a particularly evasive dog by the tail and wasn't letting go. Richie shrugged. "But why break into the apartment? All the expensive stuff was downstairs..." "But your Camelot proposals were *upstairs* and unguarded. Could the killer have gone through those?" Duncan pointed out, leaning over the table. "You're right!" Fitz exclaimed, pounding his fist on the table. "That's the piece we've been overlooking! It did start twenty-five years ago, and they are after the Mars program! Well done!" His exuberance was squashed as Richie's pager sitting on the table went off. Freddie's voice rang out over the table. "Rich, the computer's decrypting as we speak. You'd better get back." The redhead grabbed the device as he got up, pressing the side button. "Roger, Freddie. We're on our way." He was stuffing it into his jumpsuit as the voice spoke again, muffled this time. "...and don't forget my sandwich, will ya?" Richie grinned, telling the others he would catch up with them as he moved to the serving line again. The servers didn't seem at all surprised when he asked for more food. Duncan just shook his head. {I guess some things will never change.} - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Once again Richie pushed his way through the small crowd to Freddie, depositing a wrapped sandwich on the console. The blond man motioned to the large viewscreen, informing the group it was an audio/video file. A keystroke later, Jeremiah Russell jerkily appeared on the screen. "I have to make this brief. At 12:37, an unknown number of explosions crippled all main systems on the PROMETHEUS. We've managed to restore life support and partial gravity. The terraforming station was undamaged except for its antenna array, and I have moved all but a skeletal crew to it. We are hoping to have most of the repairs done before our launch window closes later this week. We have lost most of our oxygen reserves. We... Damn," he cursed, running his hand through his short hair. "Guys, we need oxygen. At least twenty tanks. I'll have to take most of the TF station's reserves to make it back to Earth. Rig 'em to a StarDrive and shoot them our way. I wish that would solve all the problems. The department heads are optimistic we can repair most of the damage and still uplift in time. It's just... Captain Keller is dead. Commander Powers is barely hanging on. All we know is what the security camera caught. Check an enlargement of the device on frame one-oh-seven. I know our receivers are down, so don't bother to reply. I'll try to send another message when I can. Russell out." The screen faded to black, replaced by a black and white shot of airlock two. No sound accompanied the video. Two men walked up to the inner door, barely recognizable as Captain Keller and Gregor. One opened the hatch, then both men entered. Behind them, a third person followed, holding possibly a weapon on them. The two officers turned, apparently speaking to the third. The third held up another device, visibly pressing a button on the boxlike object. The screen shook as the ship jerked, the three bodies unbalanced by the tremors. Gregor looked as if he was going to rush the third person, but another button and the screen shook again. Their captor made a great deal of fuss over the device, angrily gesturing around the room with it. Captain Keller dived for the airlock controls, the weapon discharging into his body. Keller desperately made a fist, punching the emergency open button, the outer door blowing away. All three were silently sucked out onto the Martian landscape, then the screen faded to black, the file completed. Richie turned to a female across the room. "Enlarge frame one-oh-seven, Wendy. Center on the device and augment." He then turned to an empty terminal, punching up Moonbase Sanctuary, Science Division. A man with shoulder length, sandy blond hair, in his mid-twenties, answered. "Are you getting any of this, Mr. Wolenczak?" "Clear as a bell," the scientist replied. "I've got a team started on the tanks, and I'm pulling the drive out of the ARCHIMEDES." "No!" Richie ordered. "The Jupiter probe leaves as scheduled. Take the one on the DARIUS. We can do without the supply ship for awhile. And add an antenna array. I want it gone in ten hours, Lucky. No holdups." Richie sternly shook his finger at the monitor. "Aye-aye, Captain," Dr. Lucas Wolenczak replied, smartly saluting. "T minus ten, and counting. Sanctuary out." The screen faded to black. From across the room, Wendy called out. "Ready when you are, Richie." After indicating his approval, everyone turned to the main viewscreen again. Nothing was said as the picture grew and focused on the main viewer. The three Immortals gasped, not looking at the device, but on the wrist that held it. Even blurry, the stylized tattoo of the Watchers was visible. They had barely recovered from the shock when Wendy broke in. "Richie, Dawson's on two for you. He says it's critical." Stunned, Richie sat at the terminal, mindlessly punching up the channel. Dawson's face appeared on the small screen as he stammered, "Joe... There's a Watch..." Joe didn't let him finish. "Shut up, Richie, and listen," Dawson barked. Richie, still in shock, did. "Connor's missing. He checked into the hotel yesterday, but didn't spend the night. No one's seen him for twenty-four hours. We've got problems." Fitz leaned over to Duncan. "Strike three..." he whispered into the Highlander's ear. Duncan could only agree. "And we're out...," the Highlander added. =========================================================================