Date: Sat, 9 Sep 1995 03:22:57 -0400 Reply-To: GrinnyP@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Carol Ann Liddiard Subject: "Origins" Chapter 5, part 2 . . . and the rest of chapter 5 . . . --------------------- He watched her squirm a little before she admitted, "I stole it." "That much I guessed. Maybe I should say, _why_ did you steal it?" She seemed to come to a decision. "Duncan, I've not exactly been truthful with you." She ignored his muttered, "now, there's a surprise," with little more than a glare. "The Hunters aren't the only ones who've been stealing the archives." Involuntarily she chuckled. "Actually, the last few months have been a kind of race between me and the Hunters to see who could steal the most of the watcher's records." Duncan transferred his attention from the chronicle to the older immortal. "But, why?" "MacLeod, have you ever considered _just_ how dangerous those people are?" She took a deep breath and stood up. "Probably the only reason I'm trying to stop the Hunters is that I don't want them to get their hands on the Watcher organization. If I knew that by staying out of it the organization would fall apart, then, well, we wouldn't be having this conversation." "But they don't interfere . . ." before he could continue she interrupted him. "Don't be naive, of course they interfere. Don't you remember Michael Christian?" He nodded reluctantly. "Well, don't think he was an isolated incident. He was just the tip of the iceberg. It's simply not humanly possible to do what they do and not get involved. Just look at you and Joe. How many times has he used his knowledge to help you." "That's not exactly the same thing," he said indignantly. "He doesn't give me information so I can go out and hunt down immortals." "Doesn't he? You mean he didn't help you hunt down Quentin Barnes? Or Kalas? Or . . ." This time Duncan interrupted her angrily. "It's not the same. He was just trying to help defeat some evil immortals." She sighed. "Duncan, you have to understand. Their organization is more than just a society, it's a religion, a 'sacred' task. And now with that Kalas thing, well, I don't think they can go back to what they were." "And what would you suggest?" he asked. "Kill them, or let the Hunters kill them?" "Not at all. I don't want anyone dead. I just don't want them to continue." She looked at him pleadingly. "Just think about it, that's all I ask." He crossed his arms. "And what, exactly, is it you want me to think about?" "Try thinking about your total lack of privacy, how much they know about every aspect of your life. Try thinking about how many times in the past year that you know of someone has abused the knowledge they've accumulated. Try thinking about more and more loose cannons with access to their storehouses of information. Try thinking of the people who may die because this information is getting out. Try thinking what would have happened if Kalas hadn't killed Christine Salzer." She moved closer and laid a hand on his arm. "Just think about it." She shook her head as if to clear it. "Meanwhile, I'm going to work my way over to the north side of the compound." She looked at him one last time. "Holler if you see anything." Duncan watched her go with mixed feelings. One the one hand, he did owe her his life. On the other, he still wasn't sure if he could trust her. Was she genuinely concerned about the abuses of the Watchers or was there something else? He felt she was still holding something back, some other agenda being pursued. --------------------- France, 1783 Duncan was yawning from his late night at the brothel. The Baron was insisting on being present for the morning's festivities, and Duncan was feeling the lack of sleep. He shook his head to clear it and scanned the ballroom again. One of the ladies clustered nearby looked familiar. He watched as the familiar-looking one detached herself from the group and slowly sauntered in his direction. "A fine morning my good man," she began in a low voice. She never looked at him directly, speaking to him from behind her fan as she moved to stand beside him. "Is the Baron being kinder to you this morning?" Startled, he looked closer as she gave him a flirtatious glance. he wondered. Although obviously a fine lady by her dress, he didn't recall meeting her at the official greetings the night before. He pondered on the puzzle as she continued to speak from behind her fan. "The Baron risks much in trying to recapture his lost youth. One who guards him should pay special attention to that. It could be a fatal weakness." "What do you know about the Baron?" "I know that your job is to guard him during these peace negotiations," she replied, fanning briskly. "I know that you are _very_ dedicated to this duty. I also know that you cannot be at his side every moment, and that someone is here who knows his weakness and will try to use it against him." She finally gave him a direct look. "It is up to you to keep him from falling prey to that weakness." He reached out as if to touch her. "Who are you?" he asked, bewildered. She folded up her fan and gave him a playful rap on the knuckles. "Don't let down your guard," was her final words to him as she made her way back across the hall. She was almost out of the room before Duncan dredged up a memory of laughing gray eyes from the bordello hallway. "Marienne?" he called, but she was gone. Before he could pursue her further the Baron made his appearance. He hurried to the man's side and vowed to pursue the matter later. --------------------- Washington State, 1995 Duncan wrenched himself from the musings of the past as he heard a truck coming down the road to the Watcher's headquarters. He focused the binoculars on the side of the large truck and saw the name and logo of a paper company. Feeling foolish he thought, . *I see it,* echoed in his head. *It looks legitimate, but I've notified Richie just in case.* He watched the truck roll to a stop at the checkpoint at the gate. The guard talked to the driver, looked through some papers on a clipboard, and waved the truck through the gate. The guard turned his back and was heading for the guardhouse when he collapsed to the pavement. The truck continued on to the building unhindered. *I saw Duncan, this is it,* Carol said. *That truck can easily hold a company of soldiers. Looks like they've come in force.* Duncan felt helpless as he watched events unfold. The truck glided to a stop in front of the main entrance to the building. The back opened up and several armed men burst out. *The perimeter guards and dogs are down,* he heard Carol shout in his head. *They must have dropped another team off outside the fence to take care of the outside guards.* *What do we do now?* he asked. *Head for that back loading bay,* she replied as gunfire broke out. *Richie and I are on our way there now. And watch your head.* --------------------- Berri Egoitza, @9,400 BCE Lagun hesitated at the entrance of Wise One's workshop. He had discouraging news and didn't know how to impart it to his friend. "Stop hovering," came the voice from inside. "I felt your anxiety long before you reached the door." Wise One looked up from the crystal he had been examining. "I take it the news is not encouraging." "None of our scouts have been able to find them," replied Lagun sadly. "They retraced the route young Lehenseme and his friends took, to no avail. The council thinks that the evil ones are somehow masking their location." He came further into the room and sat down across from Wise One. "Have you made any progress?" Wise One steepled his fingers and studied them with sudden fascination. "To be truthful," he began, not looking at his friend, "I have come up with something." He sighed and handed the crystal to Lagun. Lagun leaned forward and took the crystal. "Will it help defend our people against these abominations?" "Indeed it will, but . . . well, see for yourself," was the reply. With a puzzled look his friend accessed the information crystal. He closed his eyes and concentrated as the small octagon began to glow. Suddenly he opened his eyes and dropped the crystal. "Is it the only way?" he asked, despairing. With a heavy heard Wise One picked up the discarded crystal. "It is the only thing I have been able to come up with that will neutralize the threat without killing them outright." He looked at his friend sadly. "You know, it is still only theory. We need to conduct human trials to see if it will work." Lagun gave the Wise One a sick look. "I'd almost rather be dead." --------------------- Washington State, 1995 Joe Dawson grimaced in pain as he made his slow way down a corridor in the headquarters building. He had stood as much as he could during the meeting with the other Watcher leaders, but enough was enough. The constant bickering among the men and women as they tried to come to a consensus had irritated him so much he finally got up and left. When one of the group tried to stop him he had barked, "I really need to go to the bathroom if it's all right with you." The confused woman had let go of his arm long enough for him to escape. He hadn't really needed to go to the john, he just needed to get out. Joe decided that he would drop by the main security station and make sure the guards were all on their toes. He stopped abruptly as pain stabbed through his injured arm. He leaned against a wall, groaning. As he waited for the pain to fade he heard noises coming from the area of the front of the building. he thought as the first explosion rocked the building. He turned and started down the corridor. Halfway to the doors to security another explosion knocked him off his feet, slamming his head against a corridor wall and rendering him unconscious. --------------------- Duncan zig-zagged his way towards the back of the building, using every bit of the available cover. Gunfire had broken out in several places in the building as the Watcher security forces fought back, and sporadic explosions rocked the structure. he thought as he made his way towards the loading bay. There he could see Richie and Carol huddled, waiting for him. "What took you so long?" Carol asked as he ducked to avoid flying glass from another explosion. Duncan gave her a nasty look and didn't reply. She waited for the debris to settle, then plunged into the building, Duncan and Richie, swords drawn, hot on her heels. Duncan scanned the corridors for the enemy as he followed Carol to whatever destination she was leading them to. They rounded yet another corner and much to his surprise he saw Joe Dawson sprawled in the hallway. Carol watched him drop by the still body. "Don't worry, he's alive," she said as Duncan felt frantically for a pulse. "I'm glad you're so concerned," was his reply as he felt the Joe's steady pulse beneath his fingers. He looked up at her. "We have to get him out of here." "We also have to get the rest of them," she said, with a faraway look in her eyes. "Their security forces are doing their best, but the Hunters are winning." She dropped to Duncan's side. "Duncan, I need your help getting the leaders out." Duncan made a decision. "Richie, can you get him out by yourself?" "Sure thing Mac, no problem," said the shaken young man. He sheathed his sword, grabbed Joe by the arms and began to drag him back the way they came. *This is the way, Richie,* Duncan heard as a floor plan of the building flashed in his head. Suddenly he knew every twist and turn of the corridors. "He'll be all right, Duncan," came a voice near his ear. "We have to find the others before the Hunters do." He watched Richie struggle with his burden for a moment before turning and following Carol deeper into the headquarters. Within seconds billowing smoke hid the young immortal from view. --------------------- Halfway to the exit Richie stopped a for a breather. Joe was not a light man and at the moment he was also a complete deadweight. Richie sat next to Joe's unconscious body and took deep gulps of air, the coughed violently from all the smoke. He leaned against the wall for support as he waited for the spasms to pass. When he could breath normally again he got up and wrapped his arms around Joe again. Before he could take two steps he felt the presence of another immortal somewhere nearby. He dropped Joe as gently as possible and pulled out his sword. "Who's there?" he called. "Why Richie, it's nice to see you again," drawled a vaguely familiar voice from behind him. Richie whirled and peered into the thickening smoke. He could just make out a slender, dark-haired form wielding a sword. Then for an instant the smoke cleared enough for Richie to see a face. He gulped, raised his sword higher, and said with a bravado he didn't entirely feel, "it's nice to see you too, Felicia." --------------------- /Notes/ The training needed to successfully absorb oroimentza ("soul memories", or the Elbarridun Haurketa word "quickening") took several years, and not everyone in the tribe was capable of mastering it. The long training was necessary because of the mental problems that could be created when a person could not keep their own memories from being swamped with the ones being received. In the early days of the tribe -- before this was recognized -- there were a few cases of oroimentza transfer which resulted in a condition similar to MPS (multiple personality syndrome), where both sets of memories competed for control of the person's consciousness. Since these early days this training had been mandatory for every member of the tribe, especially the ones who would become family or group leaders. However, soon after the Herrialdaketa became immortal, the discipline was abandoned, with unforseen and tragic results. The Herrialdaketa had a great reverence for life. They worshipped an earth goddess/fertility symbol whom they called, simply, "The Mother", whom they believed gave birth to all life. Once they became Changed these beliefs, along with their budding telepathic abilities, dictated that human life was sacred and that the taking of it was the ultimate crime. Partly this was prompted by the fact that it is hard to take someone's life when you can actually "feel" the agony they go through as they die. They continued, however, to hunt game for meat, although their hunting techniques evolved so that most of the kills were made at a distance, rather than close up. Animals were eventually domesticated, not for their flesh, but for their by-products (milk, eggs, wool, etc.). Even though it was still considered proper to take an animal's life for food, by the time the tribe had moved to Berri Egoitza at least half of the population had made the shift to vegetarianism. (to be continued in chapter 6) ---------------------- Well we have action, adventure, and a surprise mystery guest. Stay tuned for chapter 6 . . . As usual all comments/criticisms/questions/flames to me at liddiard@bs1.prc.com or GrinnyP@aol.com. Carol Ann =========================================================================