Date: Fri, 8 Sep 1995 02:00:30 -0400 Reply-To: GrinnyP@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Carol Ann Liddiard Subject: "Origins" Chapter 4, part 2 . . . and the rest of this kooky chapter . . . ----------------------- Western North America, @9,500 BCE Lehenseme spit blood out of his mouth as he lay on the rough, unfinished floor. He couldn't remember how long he'd been there, whether it was hours, days, or even weeks. His universe had narrowed to constant pain and keeping the contact with Song open as long as possible. He knew he wouldn't live much longer, but he hoped that if they were connected when he died she might receive his oroimentza instead of the abominations who were questioning him. *How did you find us? How did Wise One learn we were here?* The questions echoed again in his mind. The people who shot the questions at him were using a combination of physical torture and mental intimidation to get information out of him. His accelerated healing abilities meant that he wouldn't die, and they used that to create a universe of pain so large he could no longer block most of it out. It was all he could do to keep his mind intact and his contact with Song shielded from their prying minds. He turned his head and didn't answer. "Well, has he told you anything yet?" A voice he recognized from long ago had Lehenseme struggling to open eyes caked shut with sweat and blood. He looked up and recognized the man they had once called Sagu staring at him with a total lack of emotion. "No, Ospagarritasun," said a voice from another part of the room. "We haven't been able to break through his shields and he won't talk." As Sagu glared in that direction, another voice joined in hurriedly, "But he will soon. He cannot control the pain much longer." Lehenseme saw Sagu switch his attention from the speaker to himself. "So, you are Lehenseme, son of Oihalgile. I recognize you. Do you know who I am?" Lehenseme could not believe his luck. Here was a chance to end this torture before he finally broke. He smiled his smarmiest smile and said, "Indeed, aren't you the little Herri we used to call Sagu? The one who was afraid of his shadow all the time?" "You will call me Ospagarritasun." Sagu's hands clenched tightly as he tried to hold his temper in check. "You will not get out of this so easily." "I told your people over and over again. We were on our long journey. We never knew you were here. We probably never would have known, if your people had not attacked us." Lehenseme had told them this many times but even when they pulled it out of his mind they didn't believe him. Sagu walked closer to Lehenseme and without warning brought his foot down on one of the younger man's injured hands. The agony of all the small bones breaking caught him by surprise and he could feel Song flinch in distress at the other end of the connection. *I can hold on as long as you are alive my beloved brother,* came the soothing thought. *Let me help you with the pain.* He sighed in relief as the screaming agony quieted to a dull roar. He noticed Sagu looking at him quizzically. "What is it now, Sagu?" Sagu continued his unnerving stare. "You are receiving help from somewhere. No one could handle this amount of pain and probing." "Impossible, we're monitoring him constantly," came an indignant voice from another part of the room. "Nevertheless," Sagu said, "he is receiving help. Somehow he is in contact with someone and we can't detect it. He won't talk, and the longer he stays alive, the longer he has to report what he's seen." He appeared to come to a decision. "Kill him." Lehenseme felt only relief as he saw the sharp blade come for his neck. He smiled at his executioner and thought, *Good-bye, big sister.* --------------------- Seattle, 1995 "Actually, Richie, that's pretty close to the truth," Carol said as she poured him a cup of the coffee she had finally gotten around to making. "I am an immortal in the sense that I cannot die. However, I am not exactly like you." Richie continued to stare at her and she sighed. "I am one of the Herrialdaketa." Before Richie could formulate a question, Duncan leapt into the conversation. "What exactly does that mean?" The coffee had restored the Highlander's equanimity and the question was asked in a normal tone of voice. "Its literal translation is 'the People'." She sat down at the table across from the two immortals and cupped her hands around her mug. "We were a Paleolithic tribe situated in what is now western Europe. We were, I guess, what you would call the original immortals." She smiled at their stunned expressions. "Yes, I am approximately eleven thousand years old, give or take a few hundred years." She chuckled ruefully. "I'm afraid we weren't as into the marking of time as people are now." Duncan recovered first. "Why can't we sense you?" "Our tribe has certain mental powers, probably what you would call telepathy and telekinesis. I'm able to mask the power that is a side-effect of our special abilities." Richie chimed in. "I want to know a few things, like do you know where we came from? What is the game, and the prize? There's so many questions." She sat the cup down and straightened up. "To start things off, I have to tell you that I don't exactly look like this. One of our talents has always been control over our bodies. For instance . . ." She watched the immortals for their reaction as first her eyes changed color. "Simple control over the light reflecting properties of the pigments." Her eyes were now a soft gray color. "And, the cheekbones . . . " Her face seemed to melt and subtly change. Her cheekbones became less distinct as skin moved around on her face and settled into a new arrangement. "This, I'm afraid, is the face I was born with. Oh, and the hair . . ." The short burgundy locks began to change to a soft, honey brown color, and her hair started growing, finally stopping at a length of 3 feet or so." "It's like morphing," Richie breathed in astonishment as he beheld a different woman. Carol smiled. "I guess it does look like that when you first see it." She turned to the older of the two immortals. "Look familiar?" "Marienne?" Duncan asked in an astonished tone. "Indeed," Carol replied. Gray eyes locked with brown ones as a stunned Highlander remembered . . . --------------------- France, 1783 Duncan leaned against a wall, bored out of his mind. he sighed to himself. The bordello they were occupying was one of the best in France, and pretty young ladies in nothing but their underclothes constantly walked by. They seemed to delight in tormenting Duncan, who refused to partake in the fun. While keeping an eye on the door the Baron had disappeared behind, Duncan noticed one of the young ladies eyeing him speculatively. As if coming to a decision, she started towards him, her eyes sparkling. "Why is such a handsome young man lingering in the hallways, hmmm?" she purred, standing close enough to brush against Duncan's body. Duncan never unfolded his arms or took his eyes off the door. "Sorry, lass, I'm not in the mood tonight." "But surely Marienne can change your mind," she continued, her hand tracing a path along Duncan's inner thigh. He was forced to straighten up and grab the wandering hand when it wended it's way higher. "That's enough, lass. I said I was no' interested." He smiled to take the sting out of his words and kissed the lovely hand he held. "Perhaps another time." Her amused smile widened. "Perhaps indeed. You're a very dedicated man, Highlander." She sashayed her way down the hall and disappeared into a room before Duncan realized what she had called him. Nevertheless, he was more alert as the night wore on. --------------------- Seattle, 1995 Carol dragged her weary body up the stairs to the room that she normally occupied. The two young immortals had kept her up very late while she tried to give them some history of her people. Finally, pleading fatigue, she had persuaded them to postpone some of their questions to the next day. She pointed out that they all needed a good night's sleep before they decided what to do about the Hunters. Approaching her ornate bathroom, Carol sighed and rubbed her eyes. Although her advanced metabolism could keep her going a long time she had been seventy-two straight hours without sleep and was a little punch drunk. She stopped dead at the sight that awaited her. The platform in the center of the room held a sunken tub, one of her few indulgences. The tub was filled with a steaming bubble bath and had a bottle of wine chilling in a tub of ice next to it. Next to the wine were two glasses, and a light classical tune was playing on the built-in stereo. Carol smiled and quickly shed her clothes, all signs of fatigue gone. *You wonderful man, is this all for me?* she asked as she sunk languidly into the warm liquid. *No, I drew it for our guests,* came the reply, as her lover entered the room, unconcerned with his nudity. He settled himself into the bath and poured the wine, handing her the first glass. *How did it go?* *I think they took it rather well.* Carol sat back and luxuriated in the warmth, sipping the cool white wine. *Now this is my idea of heaven.* The man she called Adam set down his glass, reached for her glass, and set it aside. Then he took her into his arms and nuzzled her neck. "So," he spoke aloud for the first time that night. "What about tomorrow?" "Let's worry about that tomorrow," was her reply as she smoothed her hands over his slick skin. *I take it back. Now _this_ is heaven!* --------------------- Western North America, @9,500 BCE Sagu looked at the headless corpse calmly. "No oroimentza?" "No, Great One, it must have gone to the one he was in contact with" "No matter." He gave the corpse a nudge with his foot. "I doubt he saw enough to really warn them what's coming." "Great One, will we have to abandon our plans?" "Not at all. This will just move the timetable up." Sagu gave the corpse one last nudge and turned to face Bigarren, who had been in charge of the interrogation. "Get rid of the body. We will have to proceed to the next phase sooner than planned." --------------------- /Notes/ Among the Herrialdaketa it was traditional for young males and females to take an ibiltalde luze (lit. "long walk" or "long journey") after their adulthood ceremony. These trips were helpful in channeling the restlessness and travel urges of the young. After the journey (which could last 10 to 100 years), the youngsters were usually ready to mate and settle down. Only rarely did a person not take this traditional trip. Some, in fact, enjoyed the travel so much they became permanent Hanemenkari (Wanderers) who constantly traveled and traded amongst the other human tribes. When Lehenseme and his travel party were killed by Sagu and his followers, they became the first recorded deaths among the Herrialdaketa in over 2,000 years. The perfect system that Wise One had designed to keep the people alive could withstand any kind of damage save one -- the severing of the central nervous system -- and Sagu had discovered this weakness and taught his people to exploit it. When the news made its way back to Berri Egoitza via Lehenseme's oroimentza ("soul memories" or "quickening" [see: Elbarridun Haurketa]), it was received with much trepidation. Death had returned to the Herrialdaketa. (to be continued in chapter 5) -------------------------- Hmmmmm, the plot sickens. As usual all comments/questions/critiques/flames to me at liddiard@bs1.prc.com or GrinnyP@aol.com Carol Ann =========================================================================