Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1996 02:39:48 EST Reply-To: Janine Shahinian <72557.627@COMPUSERVE.COM> Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Janine Shahinian <72557.627@COMPUSERVE.COM> Subject: Destiny - Part 3/5 DESTINY (Part 3/5) (c) Janine Shahinian 72557.627@compuserve.com ********** Richie arrived early the next morning to finish some work on the computer before Vicky came over to use it. After that, he had intended to start in on a list of odd-jobs which needed doing around the place, but a new box of software laying on the desk caught his attention. "The Genealogy Kit," the box read. "Contains everything you need for keeping your records organized." Richie realized that this is what must have been in Duncan's other shopping bag, yesterday. He pictured Duncan coming down last night after dinner to load the new program. ["You never found out... who your real parents were?" "No, but after a couple hundred years, you get over it.... One day, so will you."] Richie felt Duncan draw closer before the sound of the noisy elevator registered in his head. Working right next to the infernal device, Richie had learned to tune out the racket that the thing made whenever it went up and down. Of course, most of the time, MacLeod was *in* it, which meant that Richie got distracted all the same by his immortal sixth sense. A thought occurred to Richie. If he was able to dampen one sensation that was too strong, could he heighten this new sensation to detect something which was too weak? Richie watched Duncan cross in front of the office windows and held up the software package. "So you're really getting into this, I see." "Yeah," Duncan smiled. "Vicky's project could be historically significant if it turns out that the Hugh Macmillan I knew is the same as her ancestor." Duncan noticed Richie's expression. "What?" "It's not *her* ancestor," Richie gently tried to point out, "and you know that. And someday, Vicky will find out that you knew." "If she ever does, then she'll know why I didn't tell her." They had come back to Richie's situation and they both knew it. "I guess so," Richie nodded. "Oh, which reminds me, I got you this." Richie went to retrieve Carson's business card out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Duncan. "Adoption," read Duncan. "I'll bet that Blackwell was the lawyer for Vicky's adoption." "Don't you think it's a little odd that her parents never told her?" asked Richie. "Not really," remarked Duncan. "My parents never intended to tell me." "Mac! This is the *nineteen* nineties, not the fifteen nineties. You can *tell* kids that they're adopted." "Aren't you forgetting something? Vicky was born in the sixties. And exactly what were her parents supposed to tell her? Whether it's now or then, Richie, it's all the same. No one knows where we came from." "Mac, do you want Vicky to have to find out the way you did? Wouldn't it be better if she found out now, *before* you got too involved in continuing the deception? For me.... finding out that Joe Scanlon tricked me was worse than finding out that Emily Ryan was actually my foster mother." "You know I can't tell her. That should have come from Carson, back when he sent Vicky the stuff on her family." "Yeah, I guess that's one more reason not to trust him," Richie admitted. Then he had an idea. "With this nifty computer program, couldn't you get her to enter in a copy of her birth certificate or something?" "Did it ever occur to you that the Macmillans are listed as her natural parents on her birth certificate? How else did she get a passport without finding out already?" "Oh, I hadn't thought of that...." The sound of the outer door closing cut Richie off. Duncan and Richie turned their heads to see who was entering. It was Joe Dawson. Richie noticed Duncan tense up and then looked back to see that Joe wore a similar expression. No one spoke as Joe walked the length of the studio floor. Something had to be pretty important for the Watcher to come here. It was still too soon after Joe and Duncan's recent falling out for Joe to be paying a social visit. Richie had heard from Joe that the two had managed to patch things up. But he gathered that Joe would now think twice about interfering with MacLeod's immortal affairs. Richie was the first to speak up. "Hi, Joe. What's up?" Joe looked at Richie, over to Duncan, and then back to Richie, grateful that he didn't have to face Duncan when he gave his answer. He took a breath and braced himself for MacLeod's inevitable reaction. "Victoria Macmillan," he said simply. Duncan stepped forward to confront Joe. "So Richie was right; Carson is a Watcher." Joe nodded. "But what has this got to do with Vicky?" Duncan demanded. Joe seemed taken aback by the question. "I thought maybe you knew..." Joe tried a different approach. "How did Richie guess that Carson is a Watcher?" "It's not hard when a total stranger suddenly stares at you," Duncan snapped back. He had also seen That Look. "Whoa, guys, what's going on here?" Richie broke in. "It's obvious you're both fishing for something." Duncan glared at Richie and Joe managed to catch it. Joe realized that he had put MacLeod into an uncomfortable position. If Vicky had been a normal mortal, MacLeod wouldn't be so uptight. True, MacLeod could pretend to not know, but his sense of honor prevented him from deceiving a friend. Joe knew full well that this was one of those areas where Watcher interests and Immortal interests conflicted. Unfortunately, there was more at stake, here. Joe sighed. He owed it to his friend to come clean with his side of the story. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have bothered you with this if I wasn't being asked to explain Adam's involvement." Joe was clearly hedging. "What, exactly, *is* this that we're talking about?" Duncan insisted. "Well, I only learned about it last night when Carson called me. Ah, mind if I have a seat? This gets rather involved." "Please do." Duncan's tone was more relaxed and all three men found a seat. "Carson is not considered a field agent - he's a researcher - so he never fell under my jurisdiction," Joe began. "The project he's been involved with was originally coordinated by a Robert Blackwell..." "Vicky told us a bit about him," Richie offered. "So what's this project?" asked Duncan. "The Origins Project: finding potential Immortals at birth and following them," said Joe. "What?!" "You're kidding!" Duncan and Richie exclaimed at once. "How do you do *that*?" asked Richie. "Blackwell worked through other adoption lawyers and their contacts with hospital delivery room staff. He didn't say he was looking for Immortals, of course. His angle was that he was trying to help certain orphans avoid getting stuck in foster care. He asked these people to quietly let him know if they ever got a baby whose mother died in childbirth and was declared a Jane Doe." "And have they had any proof that there's a connection?" asked Duncan. In his mind, Vicky didn't count. Joe nodded. "The project came up with three babies. Each of the mothers started convulsing when they went into labor. When they were brought into the hospitals, no one knew who they were. In all three cases, the medical staff said that the mother died from some strange electrical-type current within her body; they had never seen such a thing before. The local police were notified, but no family member ever came forward to identify the mothers. "One of the babies was found in England, but he died in a London underground explosion. His body was blown to bits," Joe said softly. "The other two were found right here: Vicky.... and Michelle Webster." They had their proof. Michelle was now immortal, having died her first death when her car crashed. Duncan and Richie were still struggling to absorb what they heard. Joe added, "Obviously, Adam didn't suspect that the Watchers had any interest in Vicky. Now he's got some explaining to do." Duncan just nodded. Richie could guess what the deal was with this Adam Pierson, but he suspected that he had better keep his mouth shut about it. True to form, he decided to crack a joke, instead. "Hey, what's there to explain? Vicky wanted an expert on Scottish history and Adam referred her to someone who *is* Scottish history!" Joe noticed that Duncan was trying to keep from smiling, so he used the lighter mood to go for the proverbial brass ring. "Adam's already in trouble for revealing that he's on friendly terms with you - but what's new, right?" Joe gave a sheepish smile. "But he's going to be in even bigger trouble when Vicky becomes immortal." Duncan exploded. "Who's to say she's going to be Immortal? Maybe she could lead a normal life if you guys would just leave her alone!" "Do you know that?" Joe asked. "I didn't think your kind could escape your destiny." "I *don't* know," Duncan admitted. "But why don't you try to find out?" It was a dare. "And how do we do that," Joe pointed out, "without knowing we really have a potential Immortal? Are *you* going to be around in fifty or sixty years to see if Vicky dies permanently of old age? Don't get me wrong," Joe quickly put in, "I certainly hope that you are. But I know *I* won't be here." "If I tell you that," Duncan argued, "it will just give people like Carson an excuse to kill her now rather than later." Joe was aghast. "Carson wants to protect her! He was friends with Vicky's parents. He thinks you and Richie are the threat to her." MacLeod was totally unmoved. "Look, this can be just between you and me, " Joe offered. "Don't Immortals wish they had more answers?" "I wish I did," acknowledged Richie. Joe continued, "If you confirm Vicky's potential, it stays with me. And before I pass on, I make sure the information only goes to someone else I can trust. If not, it dies with me." Duncan gave Joe a long look and finally nodded his head. "Vicky's got it," he said. "So Immortals can sense these pre-Immortals?" Joe asked. Richie and Duncan both shook their heads. "Evidently, only some of us can," Duncan explained, and left it at that. "I appreciate you telling me," said Joe. "You just better be right about Carson," Duncan warned. "Why would you think he's up to no good?" "One, the police suspected him of murdering Vicky's parents along with Blackwell but they couldn't prove anything. Two, he works in the Viva Tower and most likely came in contact with Horton. And three, he's never told Vicky that she's adopted. If he really cares for her, he should tell her the truth before she finds out some other way." Duncan shot Richie a glance to indicate that the last point was on his account. Joe nodded. "I see. Obviously you're way ahead of me when it comes to Carson. I'll have him checked out. And when I talk to him, I'll mention the part about Vicky's adoption and see what he says." Joe started heading for the office door. "Thanks, Joe," said Duncan. "Ah, thank *you*," replied Joe. The two Immortals were silent as Joe left the dojo. Richie said what they were both thinking. "I thought I wanted more answers. But it doesn't help knowing that I started off life by killing my mother." "We can't start thinking like that." Duncan was including himself in that statement. "We didn't choose what we...." His voice trailed off as he turned to face the door. Vicky entered the dojo carrying a heavy briefcase. thought Richie. "You look raring to go," Duncan smiled to Vicky in greeting. "Oh, I hope I'm not too early or anything." It was 10:30 a.m. exactly and Vicky knew it. "No, not at all. Richie got the computer all warmed up for us." Vicky gave Richie an expectant look, not knowing whether this meant he would be joining them. Seeing it, Richie got up and headed for the coat rack. "Oh, I'm on my way out. Mac, you didn't tell me what you want at the lumberyard." "Oh, right. Pick out another load of two-by-fours and have them deliver them to the house. I don't need the clear ones, but don't get their lowest grade." Richie started to leave and Duncan called after him, "And make sure most of them look straight. I had to return too many from the last load." Duncan then drew Vicky into the office. "Come in. Make yourself at home." He gestured to the chair behind the desk. "Coffee?" "Please." Duncan spoke as he poured. "I got us something to play with." He inclined his head towards the software package. "Wow, looks great," smiled Vicky, scanning the outside of the box. "Uh, I didn't know what kind of computer you might have, but once you start entering all your information into this version, you wouldn't want to do it all over again. You're welcome to just try it out." Duncan handed Vicky a mug. "Thanks. Well, not only do I not own a computer," admitted Vicky, "but I've hardly used one. I hope you don't mind showing me how all this stuff works as we go along." "Not at all." Duncan pulled over another chair and sat holding his own cup. "So what do you know about your Hugh Macmillan?" "All I really know is that he settled in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia." "You don't know how old he was when he left France or his date of birth by chance?" "No, sorry." "That's ok. There are several things we can do to trace historical records in that area. How about I show you how to search for articles?" "Great! But can we do it for the Hugh Macmillan that was with Charles Stuart?" "Sure, that's probably easier, anyway." Duncan showed Vicky how to select a likely archive and enter in the search parameters. Once that was done, they sat back and waited for the results. "What made you want to start this project?" Duncan asked to fill the time. Vicky took a moment to answer. "I don't know. I guess I've always been trying to find out who I am, what I'm going to be when I grow up, you know." She gave a small smile. "I studied psychology in college. Got interested in art and went to Florence. That led to an interest in history and I hung out in London and traveled around Great Britain. I loved the traveling, loved the people I met.... but something still felt incomplete. "My friends from college were all getting married and starting families, but it seemed like I couldn't meet the right guy.... or, rather, he wasn't interested in me. So, I thought maybe I needed a new attitude on life - and I turned to religion. All of them," she added with a half smile. "I spent some time in the Middle East, India and even Japan.... only to find that the further east I went, the more lost I felt inside...." "So you wanted to know more about where you came from," Duncan finished for her. He had a far-away look in his eyes. ["Where! Where do I come from?!"] "Exactly!" Vicky's eyes sparkled, pleased with where her journey had brought her. "That was just as I turned thirty. Maybe that had something to do with it," she joked. "*You* know what it's like turning the big three-oh." She grinned and cocked her head to get Duncan's attention. The movement brought Duncan's eyes back into focus. "Oh... Well, I think I had it ten times worse." He gave a wry grin. "Nonsense! I think it's great how much you know about Scottish history and...." "Vicky, " Duncan gently cut in, "I hope you know that you can't find yourself at the end of a genealogy chart. Take it from me, I know." The words stung; Duncan could see it in Vicky's eyes. But sometimes the truth hurt. "Did you really travel halfway around the world to track down a long-lost ancestor?" Vicky shook her head and seemed to be at a loss for words. "I don't know. Maybe I thought that by coming here I could..." She seemed to change her mind. "I thought you could help me. Somehow this is important. I can't explain it... but meeting Adam, who led me to you.... just feels right, like this is what I should be doing." Duncan laid a hand on top of Vicky's. "It's ok. I understand." The computer flashed a message that seventeen articles had been found. Duncan showed Vicky how to check each article to see if they were relevant. In this case, all the articles were about the Seven Men of Glenmoriston and mentioned at least something about Hugh Macmillan, so Duncan had his computer print out all of them. As the papers came out, Vicky snatched them up, exclaiming when she saw that one of the articles contained Macmillan's birthdate. Seeing her enthusiasm, Duncan offered, "As long as Richie doesn't need the computer for anything, you're welcome to come by anytime and use it." "Thank you, Duncan. For everything. Could I come by tomorrow and get started on the Nova Scotia search?" "That would be fine," nodded Duncan. ********** The next day, Duncan had an appointment to meet the electrical inspector over at his house. It was one of those typical building trade-type appointments wherein the guy said he'd come by between ten a.m. and noon, and Duncan felt he'd be really lucky if he made it there by 11:45. Vicky arranged to come over first thing in the morning before Duncan had to leave so he could get her started. By surfing the Internet, they found some places in Nova Scotia that Vicky could email or fax in hopes of getting the birthdate of her ancestor. If it matched with the date given in the article, they had their man. With the message that Richie would be in soon in case she needed anything, Duncan left Vicky to work on her own. But once her messages were composed and sent off, there wasn't anything else to do until someone at the other end decided to come to her aid and send her a reply. Vicky was in awe of all this technology at her fingertips and wondered what else she could do with it. She was beginning to realize that a computer was an amazing time-saver. Just by sitting here, she could make a plane reservation, search for a job or confirm whether a book was available at the library. Only, she didn't need to do any of those things. A computer might save her time, but could it help her to catch up on the past fourteen years that she had been away? She toyed with the idea of scanning the archive for the *Seacouver Star*, but she knew that she'd be morbidly drawn to read the articles about the murder of her parents. Thoughts played through Vicky's mind: the feeling that something was familiar when she first met him.... Paul's expression on seeing him.... Richie's comments about a past girlfriend and knowing for sure that that wasn't how she knew the name. She found herself accessing the archive for *Le Monde* and entering in the search parameters: "Rich** Ryan, January 1995, August 1995." This time, the search didn't take as long and came up with nine articles. She checked the first one and discovered that it was about some middle-aged executive named Richard Ryan being appointed Vice President of something. She deleted it. The next one looked good: "Saracen Team Announces Changes." She quickly scanned it and noticed that it mentioned a twenty year-old, American, motorcycle rider named Richie Ryan. Something tickled at her brain as the sound of a motorcycle approaching outside added a three-dimensional quality to the words on the screen. She made the appropriate selections for the article to print out. The next few articles contained the results of various races. Nothing seemed particularly enlightening, so she deleted those and read on. Outside, Richie parked his motorcycle in the side alley and walked towards the front stairs. Halfway up the steps, he thought he felt something - very slight - and wondered whether it was Vicky. But the moment he tried to focus on the feeling, it passed. He gave a shrug and walked up to the door. "Ryan Named Most-Promising Rookie," read Vicky. She checked the next one. "Dornin and Ryan Killed." <*That's* where I heard that name! Damn, why can't you get pictures with these articles?> The sound of the inner door banging open made her look up to see Richie already halfway to the office. In a panic, she simply turned off the computer and reached for the one paper in the printer. She turned to see Richie stride into the office wearing a big smile, his leather jacket.... and holding a motorcycle helmet. Richie saw Vicky's eyes take in the helmet and expand with a sudden realization. "You ride a motorcycle... " It was the first thing Vicky could think to say. "Yeah..." There was an awkward silence. "I guess I could say something about the feel of the road and the wind in your face, but.... it's cheap," Richie smiled warmly. A crack in his voice betrayed his tension, but Vicky didn't seem to notice. <*Ask* me, Vicky!> Vicky was trying desperately to make sense of things, but it was as though the gears of her reasoning had locked up and refused to budge. "Uh, I'm just finishing up here...." Richie saw the paper, almost forgotten and hanging limp in Vicky's hand, and could just make out the word "Saracen." "Find anything interesting?" he asked, pointing to the paper. he thought. Somehow, the question only nudged Vicky into denial; the gears moved the only way they knew how. Clearly, she thought, this could not be the same Richie Ryan, as implausible as that seemed. Her first impulse was to hide the incriminating evidence that she had tried to snoop into his past. "Oh, yeah. We found some articles on Hugh Macmillan." She folded the paper and stuck it in her purse. "Are you okay?" asked Richie. "You seem upset about something." Richie so much wanted Vicky to have the same chance he had had, but it was not his place to give it to her. She had to take it. Little did Richie know that his cool behavior only reinforced Vicky's belief that there had been two Richies. If the motorcycle accident had been an attempt to fake his death, he wouldn't be using the same name while riding around on a motorcycle. And she had heard nothing about a miracle recovery. Richie was acting like someone with nothing to hide. Vicky let the panic and confusion drain away from her and she smiled at Richie. "No, I think the jet lag caught up with me. I'll be okay." Then on a brighter note she asked, "Are you ready to show me around this fair city of ours?" The moment had passed and Richie could only hope that there would be other opportunities. "Sure am. Would it be okay if I drove your car? That way you can look around." Before Vicky could answer, the phone rang. "Dojo.... Yes, she's here." Richie held out the receiver. "It's for you." Vicky accepted the phone with a confused look. ".... Oh, hi Paul.... I didn't say I was going to stop seeing them.... Yes, I'm fine!" She shrugged an apology to Richie. "Is this why you called? You're checking up on me?.... About what?.... My *family*?.... What's so important after all this time?.... Ok, ok, I'll come right over..." She shook her head as she hung up the phone. Richie already knew what she was going to say. "I'm sorry, Richie. It looks like I'll have to pass on that tour again. I can't imagine what Paul wants to talk to me about..." "It's ok. Really. I know you have to go." Vicky gathered her purse and briefcase and started to walk out. "Oh, I'll call tomorrow to see if any information came in for me. We'll reschedule then, ok?" Richie nodded and watched her leave the building. A few moments after the outer door closed, Richie got the distinct sensation of a passing Immortal. But this feeling was just as fleeting as the first. "What the heck....?" Richie rushed to a window and opened it - in time to see Vicky get into her rental car. But with her now in sight, he felt nothing. He closed the window and came to a decision. Exactly what decision, he wasn't sure. But when Richie's instincts told him to follow someone, he was never one to deny that urge. Experience *had* taught him some things, however: he took a second to scribble MacLeod a note. ********** end part 3/5 of Destiny - Janine Shahinian 72557.627@compuserve.com =========================================================================