Date: Tue, 12 Sep 1995 02:36:34 -0400 Reply-To: GrinnyP@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Carol Ann Liddiard Subject: "Origins" Chapter 7, part 2 . . . and the rest of chapter 7 . . . ------------------ Berri Egoitza, @9,400 BCE In a small pile on a table in Wise One's workshop, a crystal holding some of the mind virus cracked and began to leak viral solution onto the floor. Zelatari glanced around nervously and scanned the area to make sure he was alone. When he was convinced, he made his way into Wise One's workshop and headed for a another pile of crystals, the ones filled with the antidote. He grabbed one and scuttled for the door, not noticing the pink fluid he tracked across the room with his sandals. --------------------- Mediterranean Basin, @9,400 BCE Sagu stood away from the fires of his camp waiting for his messenger. Soon the man came into view, strolling casually, never sensing the army camped nearby. Sagu watched him for a moment longer before stepping out of the shadows. "Greetings, Zelatari. What information do you have for me?" Zelatari started abruptly at the man in his path. "But . . . how?" "A little trick we discovered. Come, I will show you." The two proceeded into the encampment. On a platform near one of the fires sat an enormous white crystal. When Zelatari examined it closer, he realized that it was actually made up of several interlocking pieces, fitted together so perfectly that from a distance it looked like one piece. "What is it? I sensed none of you!" he exclaimed. "You know that most crystals can be used for storage, or to amplify our power. We simply discovered a mineral that masked ours." "Ingenious," breathed Zelatari as he looked at the construct in awe. "No one even knows you're nearby." "And we would like to keep it that way," Sagu said as he slung his arm around Zelatari's thin shoulders. "Come, let us discuss this matter you told me about, this disease." The two headed away from the encampment. "Well, Ospagarritasun, I brought you a sample of the antidote for the disease." Zelatari eagerly proffered his stolen crystal. "I couldn't take more without it being noticed, but it's really not necessary. When you attack, you can take possession of the rest, if needed." "And how is this _antidote_ administered?" asked Sagu, gazing thoughtfully at the hollow quartz in his hand. "The virus itself is airborne, but the antidote must be inserted into the bloodstream. Various methods have been tried, but the most common is just to shatter the crystal, cut a small area of the skin and pour the antidote on it. You have to restrain your healing ability until it has been absorbed." "Clumsy, but it should work," was Sagu's reply as he steered his spy around a large rock outcrop. "Have they released the disease yet?" Zelatari grinned at his master. "No, they are still debating whether or not to do that. Even if they do release it at the first sign of an attack, you still have ample time to secure the antidote at Wise One's workshop. The disease takes at least 24 hours to develop." "I thank you, Zelatari. You have indeed made sure that my expedition will be a success. Let me give you your reward." Zelatari looked at him eagerly and was still smiling when Sagu broke his neck in a single blow. Before Zelatari realized what had happened, he was beheaded and Sagu absorbed his quickening. "Enjoy your reward," Sagu said to the corpse as he administered the single dose of antidote to himself. A few minutes later, he turned and walked towards the camp that Zelatari had walked through and unknowingly exposed to the virus. --------------------- Washington State, 1995 The ride to the house took place in taut silence. Duncan drove over the speed limit reasoning that the sooner they reached their destination the sooner he would have some answers. He looked over at Richie in the passenger seat, lost in his own thoughts. He wanted to talk to the young immortal, to make him understand somehow that it would get better. However, this was not the time or place. Duncan looked in the rear view mirror and watched Methos cradle Carol in his arms. When they had pulled her out of the rubble, Duncan started peppering her with questions even before she could completely heal. He had been so angry that he had reached for her, intending to shake the answers out of her if necessary. The feel of cold steel against his throat brought him back to himself. He had looked up to see Methos, vibrating with rage, holding the sword and telling him to back off. Since then he had been treading lightly around the older immortal, not speaking to him except to ask for directions. Shelving these thoughts, he concentrated on the road and wondered how Horton had managed to escaped death yet again. --------------------- The car turned left onto a private driveway. Set way back from the road, surrounded by trees a large house, almost a mansion, sat in silent majesty. Duncan drove up to the front and turned off the ignition. Ignoring him, Carol levered herself out of the back seat and headed for the front door. Methos and Duncan hurried after her, with Richie slowly bringing up the rear. "Have a seat," Methos said as there entered a large living room. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee perhaps?" Carol offered diffidently, the first words she had spoken since the explosion at the headquarters. "What I would like," Duncan began in measured tones, "are some answers." Carol folded her arms and looked him in the eye. "What answers would you like me to give you?" "You can tell me if Horton is one of you," came his reply as he gave voice to a thought that had been plaguing him. "He is one of you, isn't he?" "Yes," she replied. "He is my kind." "Did you suspect his presence or did you already know he would be there?" Carol didn't reply right away. Instead, she sighed and exchanged glances with Methos, who had sprawled across an easy chair when they first came in. She opened her mouth but was interrupted by Duncan, easily interpreting what that look had meant. "You did know he was alive! How long have you known he was alive? How did you know he had infiltrated the Watchers? Tell me!!" The last was shouted as Duncan took an abortive step towards her. One look from Methos kept him from moving farther forward. Carol massaged her forehead with her fingertips, obviously reluctant to begin. "It all began in Poland . . . " --------------------- Forest near the Chelm-Wlodawa Railroad Line, Poland, October 14, 1943 Carol trudged through the woods grimly, carrying what felt like a ton of photographic equipment. Ever since she had stumbled across the first death camp in the Polish woods two years ago, she had been trying to convince someone, anyone to do something. She had tried the Polish resistance, the Polish government in exile, the English, the French, the Americans. None of them would believe her stories of mass extermination camps run by the Nazis without some sort of proof. So there she was, slogging through the mud towards one of the monstrous constructs of Operation Reinhard, determined to provide enough "proof" that people would finally have to sit up and take notice. However, she was beginning to wonder if even something as concrete as photographs would help. At her last meeting with the American intelligence officer, she had read his mind and realized that he already knew from many other sources about the atrocities being enacted. Since it wasn't affecting the outcome of the war, he simply didn't care. The far off sound of gunfire startled her out of her bleak thoughts and brought her back to the present. She flinched as she sensed a death, then another. When she heard the first explosion, the trickle of deaths hammering at her brain became a stream. Casting around for an explanation, she began to scan the terrified minds of the captive Jews. With mounting dismay, she realized what she was hearing was a breakout, and the explosions were land mines being set off by prisoners who had made it past the gates and were fleeing for the forest. Then she sensed something that made her drop her equipment and run as fast as she could in the direction of the camp. As she got closer, the sounds of gunfire and explosions got louder. She could now hear the shouts and screams as the prisoners continued to pour through the fence and into the deadly minefield. As Carol reached the clearing denoting the beginning of the deadly ground, the shouts of the remaining nazi officers and guards reached her ears as they attempted to bring the mass exodus under control. She ran, instinctively avoiding the mines she could sense beneath her feet, drawn on by a thought pattern she had never imagined she would sense. Closer she moved, avoiding the bodies of those who had stepped on mines, dodging bullets the Ukrainian guards fired at fleeing stragglers. Then she was at the fence staring in disbelief at a small group of uniformed men near one of the guard towers. There a light-haired man in an SS uniform was rallying his soldiers to chase after the escapees. There she stood, ignoring the bullets whizzing around her. she thought as he turned and she caught a glimpse of a face she had not seen in some ten thousand years. --------------------- Washington State, 1995 "Did any of them make it?" Richie's voice brought Carol out of her reverie. "Probably 300 or more went through the fence," she replied wearily. "Some were shot by the guards as they tried to get through, many stepped on land mines running through the clearing for the woods. The escape took place in the evening. They thought they had a better chance of getting away in the dark. It was nearly winter, very cold, and the prisoners were badly dressed and malnourished. And of course, the nazis hunted them down using dogs." She walked over to the chair where Adam sat and took his hand. "Perhaps 60 made it all the way to freedom." "So it was Horton you saw," Duncan said. Carol nodded. "Yes, it was, although at that time he was calling himself Gustav Wagner." She shivered and Adam tugged her down to sit with him, wrapping his arms around her protectively. After a moment, she continued. "I ran into the woods to avoid his seeing me, hoping that he hadn't sensed me. Once I realized he had no idea I was there, I began to carefully follow him. After the war, he fled to Brazil for several years. Then I lost him." Duncan sat down heavily and put his head in his hands. "How could you lose him?" She sighed. "I couldn't follow him every minute of every day. He had settled in, and I thought he would be there for a while. When Adam called me to come help him in China, I figured it would be okay. By the time I got back to Brazil, there was no trace of him. I only picked up his trail again ten years ago." Duncan looked up. "And that cockamamie story about seeing two immortals fight, and following the killer home?" "That's true as far as it went. I _did_ see the fight, and I _did_ see the Watcher kill the winner. By following the killer I found that . . . that _gaizkierapen_ again," she spat out the word like a curse. Duncan seemed taken aback at the venom in her voice and an uneasy silence fell over the room. "What do we do now?" Richie asked after several minutes. "How do we rescue Joe?" --------------------- Mediterranean Basin, @9,400 BCE Sagu awoke suddenly with the realization that something was seriously wrong in camp. He could sense mounting panic from his people as one by one they awoke to find their mental abilities diminishing. He strode towards the center of the encampment, bellowing for silence. "My people, do not be alarmed. This is merely a trick by the evil ones on the island to keep us from our goal." He looked around as panic began to subside among the warriors. He gestured in the direction of Berri Egoitza and said, "There they sit, waiting for us to turn and run like children. There they sit, with a cure for this horrible thing they have created. And there we will go, and wrest from them what is ours!" Sagu smiled as cheers erupted from his people and the warriors began to break camp. Soon they were all ready, and he led the columns of eager fighters towards the unsuspecting island. He smiled to himself as he anticipated the look on Wise One's face as they met again for the final time. --------------------- /Notes/ As noted earlier, the leader of the Noragabeak ("outcasts") was originally named Sagu. The Herrialdaketa insisted on referring to him as Otsar ("wolf"), the name he chose for himself at their adulthood ceremony. Sagu himself considered his new name to be Ospagarritasun ("Magnificent One" or "Great One") and insisted that his followers use it. After his troupe were rediscovered, and after they killed the group that discovered them, the Herrialdaketa refused to refer to him by name, instead calling him simply Lehen Gaiztagile ("Evil Leader"). Lehen Gaiztagile (or, more simply, Sagu) trained his people from an early age to fight and kill. As children they were forced to compete with each other for food, for he would not supply the children's groups with enough to sustain all their members. Eventually they would learn to fight, and kill each other in order to survive. Once a group had passed this barrier of learning, they moved on to more advanced stages. Sagu had learned much of the mental disciplines of the Herrialdaketa, and he passed them along to his followers, as well as hand-to-hand fighting, and fighting with various weaponry. Life for his followers was harsh, brutal, and often short. He manipulated these conditions to produce fighters who were ruthless, efficient, and above all, completely loyal to him. It was this group of Borrokalariak ("warriors") that he brought with him to conquer Berri Egoitza. ------------------- Well, that should be enough to hold you for a while. Wonder what's going to happen next? As usual, all comments/questions/criticisms/flames to me at liddiard@bs1.prc.com or GrinnyP@aol.com Carol Ann =========================================================================