Date: Tue, 17 Oct 1995 15:24:57 -0500 Reply-To: "Robert A. Gansler" Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Robert A. Gansler" Subject: Rulers of the World (Part 10 of 16) Rulers of the World (Part 10 of 16) A Highlander/War of the Worlds Crossover A ContiNEWity Story ** 1898: London It had been some time since Duncan had last served in the British Army. Though it had been a number of years since the tragedy, he was still trying to escape the memory of the death of Little Deer and her tribe. He had remained for a while on the ancient holy ground, but now he had become restless. Despite Connor's urgings, he was not ready to get back into the Game. He figured that he could spend some time in the Army and hone some of his fighting skills. He was not likely to see any real action, but the training would be good for him and the strict, disciplined routine would keep his mind off of painful memories. {The regiment of infantry was camped in the forest outside of Aldershot, England. The men were outfitted in small round caps, dirty red jackets unbuttoned, and showing their blue shirts, dark trousers, and boots coming to the calf.} The official designation was the Cardigan regiment. Duncan MacLeod nonchalantly flicked little pieces of wood into the campfire burning in front of him. He looked up at his comrade sitting across the campfire from him. "So how long have ye been with the outfit, Fraser?" The scruffy faced, red-haired man named Donald Fraser responded gruffly with a strong Scottish accent "Oh, about two years? What was yer name again, recruit?" "MacLeod. Duncan MacLeod." "MacLeod? That reminds me of something My grandfather used to tell me stories about our family. There was one that he told about a battle with the MacLeods. It was in the sixteenth century." "1536." Duncan specified. "Aye, so you know it then. Then you must also know that my clan sent yours back to Glennfinnan with their tails between their legs." "That's not the way I heard it." Duncan replied as he tossed some more pieces of wood into the fire. Fraser stood up and pointed at Duncan, "No? Then prithee tell me how your clan has revised the history, then. Me grandfather has a book of Fraser history that's been passed down from generation to generation and that's how it happened. What do you got, an eye-witness account?" "Something like that." Duncan smiled as he remembered Connor's tale of the battle. Fraser was about to ask Duncan what he meant by that when their commanding officer, Sergeant Keith O'Leary, came racing over to the campsite. He began barking orders to all of the soldiers gathered there. He made his way over to Duncan and Fraser. "Get packed up and ready to go. We're moving out." "Where are we going, sergeant?" Duncan asked "Over to Horsell Commons. They got some trouble there. Now move it!" "Yes, sir!" the two soldiers replied. Fraser once again was about to ask Duncan about his cryptic statement when Duncan bounded off to where some of his equipment was stacked. "When this is over, MacLeod, we'll find out who's telling the truth. That's to be sure," Fraser decided. {A day had passed and Duncan MacLeod was standing sentinel under a railway bridge near the common. The regiment had heard some reports about what was happening in the area. Apparently there were some strange things that came out of the meteor and some people were killed. A civilian walked up to the bridge and talked with the soldiers for a time; he told them of his sight of the Martians on the previous evening. They told the civilian that they did not know who had authorized the movements of the troops; their idea was that a dispute had arisen at the Horse Guards. The civilian described the Heat-Ray to them, and the members of the Cardigan Regiment began to argue among themselves about what to do. "Crawl up under cover and rush 'em, say I," said O'Leary. "Get aht!," said another. "What's cover against this 'ere 'eat? Sticks to cook yer! What we got to do is to go as near as the ground'll let us, and then drive a trench." "Blow yer trenches! You always want trenches; you ought to ha" been born a rabbit Snippy." "Ain't they got any necks, then?" said Fraser.} Duncan was momentarily worried about why Fraser made mention of that point. The civilian repeated his description of the Martians. {"Octopuses," said Fraser, "that's what I calls 'em. Talk about fishers of men--fighters of fish it is this time!" "It ain't no murder killing beasts like that," said O'Leary "Why not shell the darned things strite off and finish 'em?" said Fraser "You carn tell what they might do." "Where's your shells?" said O'Leary. "There ain't no time. Do it in a rush, that's my tip, and do it at once."} The soldiers continued to argue amongst themselves about what approach to take. Everyone that the opinions of the others were complete idiocy. The discussion devolved into a shouting and name-calling affair. Duncan decided not to become embroiled in the 'debate' and turned to the civilian "I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name?" The civilian offered his hand to Duncan "It's Herbert. Herbert George Wells" Duncan shook the civilian's hand "Nice to meet you, Herbert. I'm Duncan MacLeod." Duncan and Herbert exchanged pleasantries and proceeded to discuss the current situation. Herbert told Duncan about his literary aspirations. Herbert thought it might be a good idea to write a biography of Duncan. "We could call it 'The Immortal Soldier'. A story of the common man in the military," Herbert suggested. "I'd have to talk to your family and get some background information about you." Duncan was about to object when he felt the presence of another Immortal. Before he could do anything, Sergeant O'Leary came barking orders for the troops to move out. The Cardigan Regiment was going to engage the Martians. Duncan looked back hopelessly as they marched out, trying to pinpoint the other Immortal. He saw a group of officers in the distance. Could the other Immortal be one of them? "Well, good-bye, Herbert. Lots of luck in your writing career," Duncan shouted back as the Cardigan Regiment stepped up to double time. "Thanks. I'll catch up with you after this 'war' is over. In the meantime, how do I get in touch with your family?" Herbert yelled back. "You'd need a machine that could travel in time to do that," Duncan responded. "A time machine?" Herbert hummed. "That could be the basis of a good piece of fiction. *1898: Somewhere outside London Duncan was not sure of where he and his comrades were. The route that they had marched had had no illusions of being a direct one. As far as he could tell, they had marched about ten miles to this meadow in the middle of nowhere. The tall green grass of the meadow was silent and motionless in the windless air. In fact, the only sound that could be heard was the slight humming emanating from the crater. The Cardigan Regiment took up its position near the landing site of a Martian craft. It was deathly quiet. No Martian activity could be seen in the area. The men of the regiment gripped their rifles tightly as they waited for what they knew would be the inevitable order - to charge. That is what the regiment did best, after all. Fraser crawled over to where Duncan was settled. "So, laddie. Do ye wanna place a wager on which of us kills more of them Martians?" "What makes you think we're going to kill any? You heard the reports. The last attack was wiped out in seconds," Duncan exclaimed. "Ah, but they weren't the Cardigan Regiment then, were they?" Fraser slugged Duncan slightly on the shoulder. "They dinna have Highlanders like us fighting then, did they?" Before Duncan could answer, the call to charge resounded through the meadow. "Let's have at them, laddie!" Fraser yelled as he bolted towards the crater. Duncan soon followed but with a decidedly lower level of enthusiasm. Before Duncan or any of the other soldiers had made it halfway to the crater, the device that they were warned about - the Heat Ray - appeared, rising above the edge of the crater. It began firing with methodical precision at the onrushing members of the Cardigan Regiment. The Heat-Ray hit its first target head-on, and the unlucky victim promptly burst into flames. After the first few blasts, the charge was broken and the Cardigans began a hasty retreat, looking for some type of cover in the flat field. Duncan was running rapidly when he looked back to see where Fraser was. As he turned, Fraser was struck by the red beam of the Heat-Ray. In mere seconds, Fraser was reduced to a smoldering corpse. Duncan stopped and stood aghast at the carnage that the Martians had wrought so quickly in the meadow. Duncan's terror was multiplied tenfold when he saw the massive metallic tripod climb out of the crater. Its Heat-Ray projector continued to blast, starting up fires all over the field. Duncan had never seen something so impressive and terrifying in all of his Immortal years. A second and then a third tripod followed the first out of the crater. They quickly joined the first unit and the trio began marching out at a rapid pace, their legs taking huge strides at a time. There was no way for Duncan to outrun these mechanical monstrosities. He saw one of the tripods bring its Heat-Ray projector to bear on him. Duncan steeled himself for death. The red beam zipped through the air and cut through Duncan's chest. Duncan slumped to the ground, his eyes frozen in a deathly tranquillity. After a few minutes, Duncan's body shook as life returned to it. He looked up to see a black shape hovering over him. At first he thought it might be one of the Martians coming to finish him off. His lungs still hurt from the wound and he began coughing uncontrollably. His ears were ringing so he could not understand the sounds that the figure was making. All of a sudden he realized that he was also sensing the presence of another Immortal. He kicked what he figured was a leg belonging to the figure and clumsily got himself to his feet. The figure stumbled back a bit but did not fall. Duncan squinted hard at the figure as he tried to make out who or what it was. As he did this his hand went to the sword at his side. "I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod., and I fear no man or Martian." Duncan defiantly declared as he drew his sword. "Easy there, Scotsman. I'm not here for your head," the figure responded in decidedly British-sounding English. Duncan's vision began to clear up and he was now certain that the figure was indeed a human. His head, however, hurt very severely and he toppled to the ground. The man went over to Duncan and propped his head up with Duncan's field pack. At this close distance, Duncan could now see that the man was also a soldier, an officer by the look of the uniform. "I was about to say 'at-ease, soldier' but it looks like you anticipated that order," the man stated with what looked like a smirk through Duncan's blurry eyes. "I'm Brigadier-General Marvin, in charge of operations here, and even if I wanted to take your head, I don't have the time. I've got a bigger problem with these Martians here." "Sir?" Duncan asked. "Yes, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, these things really are Martians. And we have to defeat them and soon. The world's in a precarious position as it is, what with all the alliances that have been forged. We don't need to worry about aliens, too." Marvin rose from Duncan's side and began pacing as he thought out loud. "This is all the world needs - an outside threat. It's just the thing to spur these industrial types to build ever more destructive weapons. Coupling that with the tenuous political entanglements that Europe has engineered, it could be real trouble. But how to deal with it, how to deal with it?" Duncan still felt that his brain was rattled somewhat and continued to address Marvin with military respect, "Sir, exactly what are you talking about?" Marvin interrupted himself to respond to Duncan "The Martians, of course. Ah, how quickly they forget." Marvin snapped his fingers "Forgetting, that's it. But how?" Duncan slumped back on the field pack. The pain he felt in his head was more sever than even the worst hangover he had ever had in his Immortal life. Part of him felt that whatever was going on was not real, that he would soon wake up from this strange dream." Marvin continued to discuss things with himself. "I can't exactly go around and hypnotize everyone. I have the skill just not the time. Ha ha ha, that's a funny one, isn't it MacLeod? An Immortal not having enough time. Ha ha ha. "I'll need to erase this event from the world's memory. That is, assuming, we defeat these aliens and there's a world left. I need to reach the masses. I can certainly take care of the military, but what of the general public? How do I reach them." Marvin sat upon a tree stump, a victim of the alien heat ray, and assumed the Thinker's position. "How to reach them? What did that Marx fellow say. 'Religion is the opiate of the masses'? I can't exactly go into every church and preach, can I? Marvin stood up and spread his arms apart "Listen unto me, people of the world. The Lord has revealed unto me that the Martians did not come in this year of our Lord, 1898." Marvin began to laugh at himself. "No, that most assuredly would not work. It would take too long." "Perhaps I could apply some of the subliminal message concepts I've developed and include them in rewrites of the Bible or Koran or Pentateuch or whatever?" Marvin shook his head "No, it would take too long. I can't rewrite the Good Books." Marvin snapped his fingers again. "But a good book, that could work. A book written about this event, but as a work of fiction. With some subtle manipulation, I could get the world to believe that this was only a work of fiction. The fiction would be the truth, and the truth would be fiction. Ironic, isn't it, MacLeod." Marvin went back over to the reclining MacLeod "Who was that civilian you were talking to, when you were on guard duty? I've seen him before. I think he wants to be a writer. What was his name, man?" Duncan managed to recall the name despite the ringing in his head "Herbert George Wells." "Ah, Herbert George Wells. Once this is over, I will find you and we will write the greatest novel of all time, only the world will not recognize what it truly is. As for you, MacLeod, you must understand that I must ensure that my plan works. As I said earlier, I will not take your head, but I cannot allow you to have knowledge of this endeavor. I know that the memory of Immortals is very good. It will take some effort to make you forget." Marvin pulled a pocketwatch out of his jacket. "Look into the watch, MacLeod, look into it. You are feeling very sleepy..." Duncan could not fight the pain that still resounded through his head along with the powerful mesmerism that Marvin was applying. His eyes closed and he fell into a hypnotic trance. "Good, MacLeod. Now you will forget everything that happened here... Bob G. EPRI HVAC&R Center rgansler@facstaff.wisc.edu http://www.engr.wisc.edu/~gansler/ "Reality - a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there." =========================================================================