Date: Thu, 28 Jul 1994 20:41:26 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Hobert@AOL.COM Subject: CIRCLES, Part 5 of 5 (2/2) An hour later, or so it seemed, Connor and Duncan found him, the small bolts of energy continuing to course over his body. They saw blisters forming on the exposed skin as he convulsed uncontrollably. His voice was gone, leaving a noiseless sob to escape from his charred lips. Duncan reached for him, jumping back as bolts menaced the contact. They managed to get Connor's trench coat around Richie, Duncan carrying him to the villa despite the pain. From there, they made a quick phone call. It seemed like an eternity before they slipped him carefully into the back of the black sedan, driving through the streets of Paris. Richie never remembered them stopping, nor entering a theater, closed for afternoon. Joe Dawson was waiting on them, motioning to a desk on the stage. Duncan deposited the energized body on it, moving away as quickly as possible. Dawson shrugged his shoulders helplessly, not knowing what to do. They argued for hours, as Richie moved less and less. Dawson angrily threw up his hands and went into the office grabbing the phone. "Jeremiah, it's Joe. Yes, I know what time it is. I need you to do something for me. It's important. Are you ready to write this down? Good. Go to my house. Open the safe behind the bookcase and get books one, two and the one labeled 'M'. Bring them here. Yes, Paris. It's important. A jet will be waiting at the airport. Someone will meet you at this end. Godspeed." He hung up the phone and looked at Duncan. "He'll be here as quickly as possible. All we can do is wait." "Can Richie last that long?" Duncan asked, arms crossed, feeling helpless. They looked out the door, seeing Richie twitch even less. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Duncan waited at the deserted airstrip, looking at his watch for the twentieth time. Impatiently, he took up pacing again. Just as he was giving up, the lights of a small plane glided in for a landing. Duncan ushered the passenger into the car, not pausing for a look. Once he had gotten the car on the road and up to speed, he took the time to evaluate Richie's savior. The stranger was young, almost Richie's age. Rumpled black hair and spectacles gave him a bookish look. He clutched a bag possessively, as if not trusting Duncan at all. They spoke not a word when they arrived at the theater, the stranger quickly entering. Duncan walked in just as Dawson finished greeting the arrival. Jeremiah handed over the ancient texts as he was introduced to the two Immortals. Then the studying began. Several of the stories in books one and two were interesting, only a handful remotely relevant. The book marked 'M' Dawson reviewed, letting no one else near it. After two hours of careful search, only a handful of clues pointing to a solution had been found. Jeremiah was the one who suggested Richie was like a generator with too much power, needing to be bleeded, but Dawson formulated the plan. Not in so many words, he suggested Duncan and Connor accept small doses of energy and then absorb them. He couldn't back up his theory with proof, only guesses. Dawson finally had to send Jeremiah out for food, explaining that the youth knew nothing of Immortals. Duncan and Connor tried, but only got burned for their effort. Nothing apparently changed with Richie, other then he had stopped breathing long ago. His skin had started peeling, oozing blisters bursting of their own accord, blood seeping out his nose and mouth. When Jeremiah returned, he asked why they couldn't bleed the excess into the city power lines. Duncan brutally tore apart a lamp, testing the theory with the thin power cord. The resultant discharge melted the plastic and dropped the Immortal in agony. Connor suggested using the cables to the stage lights, these able to carry higher currents. In moments, they were ready, Duncan again sacrificing himself to test the theory. The energy blew every light in the building, shattering the lights over the stage. Sparks rained down on the participants as the speakers in the walls blew. Outside, four city blocks were ravaged, destroying lights and fuses. In moments, the discharges were weaker as they coursed over Richie. They were gone in ten minutes. By noon the next day, he was breathing again. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "This proves it, Duncan. You've got to let me assign somebody to watch him." "He won't go for it Dawson. You know the Watchers give him the creeps. Even you." "I don't have a Watcher in mind." "Who, then?" "Jeremiah." "The kid? What's so special about him? Why would you trust him to watch Richie?" "He's my son." > > > > > Saturday, May 13, 2000 > > > > > The two men sat in the car, silent as they sped through the streets of New York, each lost in their private thoughts. They arrived at 'MacLeod's' and waited for the others before entering. On the front step, a package of yellow waited. The card simply said 'Richie'. Quickly tearing into the gift, Richie found himself staring at a small purple dinosaur with a shirt that said 'Press Here' on its stomach. Dawson began laughing when he realized what it was. The rest of the group arrived as Richie pressed, the night air filled with "I love you... You love me..." Gregor laughed as he grabbed the stuffed toy from Richie, barreling through the showroom to the elevator. The two Immortals struggled as it rose, leaving their companions waiting on the first floor. They crashed out of the cage on the top floor, Gregor successful at keeping Richie away. With a flourish, the photographer threw the doll in the air, drawing his sword with his other hand. "There can be only ONE!" In midair he struck, decapitating the helpless dinosaur, send the parts flying over the walkway. Together they looked over the edge, seeing the headless doll throw sparks like a miniature Quickening. Laughing, they threw themselves over the railing, dropping to the main floor. "Augie, that was a gift! How could you?" Richie asked, kicking the pieces with his foot. "Tis' a bad Immortal, Red, my boy. See the sparks? Would have taken your head in your sleep, mark my words," Gregor replied, piercing the body with his sword again. As the electrical shock traveled up the metal, Gregor cursed, dropping the sword. >From above, the others just stared at them from the walkway, muttering comments. "How long have you left them alone, Connor? They need help." Richie grabbed the head and tried to jam it to the body. "You killed Barney! What am I going to tell Janice?" He made a mental note that Gregor would tell Janice, and Richie would be in LA, or Paris. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Seven sat around the dining room table, David having left to collect the children. In front of each a portfolio lay open, copies of the prospectus Richie had sent with his graduation invitations. "To summarize," Richie began, "I believe I've proven that the human race will destroy itself in fifty years unless two things occur. One, people decide not to have kids, or two, we find more real estate. My outline proposes a plan that will get us off this planet by 2050. Any questions so far?" he asked, briefly glancing at each person around the table. Duncan voiced his concern first, "You mentioned Grace helped prepare these figures? What kind of accuracy are we looking at here?" He rifled through the first couple of sheets, looking for the answer himself. "I'll answer that," Dawson broke in. "I've seen similar figures. Not so much the same time frame, but the fact that humankind must leave the planet soon or choke on itself. Everyone agrees." "Any more? Moving along," Richie said, turning to the second section. "I propose establishing a corporation to accomplish that. The timetable on page five shows a rough estimate of a viable space station in orbit by 2010, a moon base or such by 2020, and the preliminary exploration and terraforming of Mars by 2025." The rest hurriedly scanned the outline. "Why Mars?" Amanda broke in. "What about Venus?" "Cost," replied Richie. "I have the figures in another proposal. Can I give it to you after the meeting?" She smiled at him as she shook her head yes, then returned to scanning the papers. "Moving on... The company's name - Camelot, Incorporated, naturally." Richie let loose a wide grin as he named the company. Duncan interrupted again. "What about money? Personal finances? Say, mine?" he asked, looking like he wanted to add a comment on Richie's finances as well. Richie motioned for Gregor to field that one. "It's simple, really. We're siphoning off the assets of dead Immortals from their Swiss bank accounts," he explained. Several people looked as if they were going to ask the hows and whats, so he continued. "We're using one of Jeremiah's algorithms, based, I believe, on the Watcher's encryption program." Dawson looked stunned. "Out of thirty-five Immortals, we've collected about $265 million. Our goal is $2 billion by year end." "Board of Directors and major shareholders as follows," Richie plowed ahead, not wanting to give anyone time to argue until it was all said. "Chief Financial Officer, Duncan MacLeod." When his former teacher opened his mouth to protest, Richie added, "Come on, Mac. It's the same thing you do for yourself, only with a few more zeros on the end. Vice-President in charge of acquisitions, Amanda. Including the second story kind she does so well." She acknowledged his compliment and accepted the offer. "Chief Information Officer, Joe Dawson. You've run the Watchers for twenty years, so I know you're capable," he said, forestalling the mortal's protest. Turning to the other mortal in the room, "Angela Davis, Personnel Director. Someone has to make sure the company keeps going after we all kill each other off. Connor will act as liaison in our various headquarters, Amsterdam, New York, the Bahamas... Grace declined any stock, but agreed to head up the science division, and Fitz said he'd help as he was able. That leaves Greg, who will act as our 'MacGyver'," he stated, referring to a television character, famous for his multi-purpose usefulness. No one questioned who would head this merry little mad house. He wound up his presentation. "I know this is a lot of information. Many of the details have yet to be ironed out. What I need is each of you to commit to this. Because if we start this, there's no turning back." He waited as each of the others thought about his proposal. A few took hardly any time, Gregor giving his hand a squeeze as he smiled his encouragement, Angie and Connor gravely nodding at his glance. Amanda leaned back, commenting, "I followed him once, I can do it again," as she shut her portfolio. That left two, sitting side by side at the opposite corner. Joe Dawson looked up first, eyes misting. "He would have said yes without hesitation, Richie. How can I do any less?" Richie nodded, understanding the silent thoughts as well. That left Duncan. Richie remembered Duncan's eyes the best, followed by the hair and the accent. In them, he had seen a range of emotion, as well as memories Duncan sometimes shared. Those orbs now held him, echoes of ruling the world flashing in their depths. For so long Duncan had just existed, not really living. Not since Tessa. Richie hoped this would give Duncan a reason, if only he would take it. "Yes," came the final word, racing across the table, binding the seven in a circle of purpose. One Richie planed to take a step further this night. "We're agreed. I have preliminary proposals for your inspection, and I'd like to set a possible board meeting in a few months. Meanwhile, I'd like Amanda to start working on getting the plans for NASA's aborted space station, Freedom, and Connor can start on opening offices around the world." For a moment, the Arthur part of him disappeared, and he looked every bit the teenager Duncan had taken in. "Thank you, folks. This means a great deal to me." Then champagne was brought out, bubbly flowed, and the party moved into full swing. Angie bowed out early, needing to get home to her family. Amanda started dancing with anyone willing by the piano. As time passed, Richie quietly moved to the circular room, needing to converse with other voices in private. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Immortals had quietly left, thinking Dawson to be asleep in Richie's bed. He looked down from the windows, watching their cars speed off toward Central Park, and the site of the ancient stone circle, eroded to dust before even the Vikings had arrived. He picked up the cordless phone and dialed.... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Travis quickly moved through the loft, searching for the note Dawson had signaled he had left. The Watcher felt no buzz, heard no sound, as the Immortal slowly crept up behind him, grabbing him around the neck, twisting suddenly until the neck snapped. Travis' body was cold when the answering machine started, playing the corny message by the two who lived here. * BEEP * "Uh, hello? This is for, ah, Richard Ryan. I'm Andrew Bullock, an administrator here at the New York Medical Center. There's been an accident. The Russell family was involved in an accident. You're the only name we found in their belongings. I need you to call me as soon as you get this message. Steven and Marla are both dead, but we managed to save the baby. Please call me soon..." Epilogue - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - One space remained. They waited an eternity for their missing member. They contemplated their tasks as well as the others. Soon, a soft sound penetrated the stillness. Shuffling forward came an older gentleman, silver haired, the thump of a cane in cadence with the steps of prosthetic legs. Surprise registered on several Immortals, for the newcomer was not one of them. "I am Joseph Randall Dawson, directed by Darius to complete this gathering. Blessed by him named Merlin and given the secrets of the universe, I am prophet and soothsayer. The stars my informers, the hearts of man my truth, I come as chaos. I am the Watcher. I am knowledge. Richard stepped forward and plunged Excaliber into the ground at the center of the light. Sparks of energy cascaded through it. "The time is at hand. The Knights of the Round Table are met again. So be it." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * To be concluded in CHOICES, coming to HLFIC in early September. Comments to hobert@aol.com =========================================================================