Date: Tue, 17 Oct 1995 15:34:42 -0500 Reply-To: "Robert A. Gansler" Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Robert A. Gansler" Subject: Rulers of the World (Part 12 of 16) Rulers of the World (Part 12 of 16) A Highlander/War of the Worlds Crossover A ContiNEWity Story * 1995: Morthrain Base Mana looked up from the console. It was clear to all that the clone of General Wilson had been killed. The mission was unsuccessful "Should we begin preparations to make another clone?" she asked. Malzor thought about it for a moment and then replied "No, we have learned enough from the original. I doubt that we would be able to fool Blackwood and his allies again. No, we will simply terminate the original, immediately." "As you wish." "Were you able to ascertain the clone's position." Malzor asked hopefully. "No, once they went underground, we could not pinpoint its position. Their base could be anywhere within a five-mile radius. Additionally, the underground structures are like a maze. We would never find them." Malzor grunted and walked away. Another of his plans had met with failure. He had sacrificed two soldiers and gained nothing. The Morthrain numbers were continuously dwindling. They had only been successful in producing one new offspring since they arrived on this planet. Back in the science wing of the Morthrain base, Mana adjusted the organic circuitry to send a lethal charge through the captive General Wilson. Mana thought about how much she would like to study this intriguing human. She wanted to know why it took so long to clone him. It would be a fascinating endeavor, but she knew she would not have the opportunity. Malzor had enacted strict regulations against any efforts that did not directly coincide with the takeover of the planet. She knew that he would consider any type of analysis on the human to be a waste of time and resources. "A pity, "she thought, but she had her orders. Mana activated the sequence and her subject screamed as the charge passed through him. After a few moments of agony, he fell silent. His body convulsed for a few seconds and then became deathly still. He was dead. Mana motioned for a pair of guards to come over and remove the body from the cloning chamber. They carefully detached the membranes and tentacles that held the now-dead human in the chamber. When he had been freed from the device, the guards took him away to dispose of him. The guards dragged Wilson unceremoniously through the complex. The disposal device was on the other end of the base. When the guards had traveled about halfway through the complex, Wilson suddenly jerked in the hands. "Did you feel that?" one guard asked the other. "Must be just a nerve reflex or something. Mana pumped enough energy through this human to kill a dozen of them." The other responded. However, it was not a 'nerve reflex or something'. Wilson was alive and aware but continued to play dead. He took quick peeks at his surroundings and listened closely to his surroundings. It seemed to him that there were only the two carrying him in his immediate vicinity. He bided his time until he could be sure that he could escape. The guards reached their destination and closed the opening to the disposal room. "Nobody likes this place," one guard mentioned. "Let's just get it over with. I hope he doesn't take too much energy," the other answered. The guards dropped Wilson to the flow as they made preparations to the equipment. They paid absolutely no attention to their supposedly deceased captive. Wilson quietly looked around. He could hear sounds from outside the room, noises that sounded like they were generated by human sources, not these strange alien sounds that emanated from everywhere. He deduced that he was near the edge of the base, perhaps outside lay just on the other side of the wall. This was his opportunity. He slowly crawled over to one of the guards. The guard looked up to his partner "I'm finished over heeeeee-" He was interrupted by the fact that Wilson struck a vicious blow to his head. The guard crumpled to the floor while Wilson stared at the green blood was now on his hand. The other guard turned to face his partner and instead saw Wilson staring into his face from about a foot away. Wilson delivered a mean head-butt to the guard. The alien staggered and Wilson let loose a kick to the solar plexus. The alien doubled over and Wilson finished him by driving his knee into the aliens nose as his elbow drove down on the back of the alien's head. Wilson tried to figure out his next move. His memory was very hazy. He was not sure of how long he had been in this alien lair. He wished that he had his sword. Somehow he remembered that the aliens had given his sword to something - a clone. He questioned his memory - a clone? He shook his head a few times, trying to clear the cobwebs. Slowly he noticed a soft, subtle feeling in his brain. It was not the presence of an Immortal, he was sure of that. The feeling was completely different, but it called to him. As he walked towards the wall, he could feel the sensation grow stronger, almost imperceptibly, but nonetheless stronger. He studied the organic wall for a while until he sized up where the weak spot was. With a well-placed blow, a hole was torn into the wall and Wilson jumped through it. He took off running, trying to follow the signal that was gnawing at his brain and hoping that he would not run into another Immortal until he found a sword, preferably his own. Inside the base, Ceto saw the human captive escape. He had asked Mana on a number of occasions why this human was so important that they had tried to clone him for so many years. Mana would not tell him, citing Malzor's orders. Ceto concluded that this human must be quite dangerous, most likely part of the group of humans to which Debi belonged. It had been some time since he had last seen Debi. He would have to arrange a meeting soon so he could tell her about this development. In the meantime, Ceto decided to walk away and not report what he had seen in the Disposal Room to Malzor. The Disposal Room was a restricted area, and Ceto did not want to give Malzor any provocation to sentence him to the punishment device again. Wilson cautiously stumbled through the streets of the city. He had managed to 'convince' one of the local residents to part with his clothes. In the dirty, tattered rags that he wore now, Wilson felt very inconspicuous albeit uncomfortable. The feeling in his brain was still pulling at him taking him farther into the city. Wilson quickly lost track of how many blocks he had covered, how many times he circled back to somewhere he he had been before, how many times he ran into dead ends. Eventually, he came to an alley where he felt that the sensation was the strongest. He scoured the area, trying to find something that could explain the feeling. There was nothing there. Then Wilson saw a manhole cover. He wondered if the source of the feeling be down there. He decided to investigate. He lifted to manhole cover as silently as possible and slipped down into the sewers. Wilson wandered around the sewers until he came upon a tunnel. The feeling was growing ever stronger. He slowly made his way down the tunnel, keeping all of his senses peeled. However, he failed to notice the light-beam that shone across the entrance to the tunnel. * 1995: Blackwood Project Base Harrison raced to the control panel to determine what the cause of the alarm was. He activated a computer screen and a diagram of the underground complex appeared. Harrison zoomed in on the flashing area until he could pinpoint the cause of the alarm. "Oh, great," he exclaimed. Suzanne looked up from the medical attention she was giving Duncan. "What's the problem?" Duncan also looked up. He had told Suzanne that he was fine, that his wounds would heal soon, but she would not listen to his arguments. "It's in the tunnel we just came from. Where Duncan decapitated that clone." Suzanne turned to Duncan. "You cut off its head. That means it's dead, truly dead, right?" "That's what I figured. Then again, I've never taken an alien clone's head before," Duncan replied. "Just great," Kincaid said in exasperation. "Now we have a headless clone who's going to lead the aliens right here. Well, not if I can help it." Kincaid threw on his leather jacket and yanked an assault rifle from a locker. "This thing won't leave the tunnels. that's for sure." Harrison interjected, "It may not be the Wilson clone. It could be something else. Maybe just a rat or other rodent." Duncan jumped to his feet. "Too coincidental, Harrison. I'll come along, Kincaid." * 1995: Tunnel near Blackwood Project Base Wilson finally came to the source of the sensation it was the slowly dissolving form of his clone. Wilson looked at it with disgust. He would have revenge upon the aliens that produced it. It might take some time, but Wilson had plenty of that. He looked around and found something that greatly encouraged him - his sword. He held the sword gingerly in his hands, reveling in all of the battles that it had seen him through over the centuries, the heads it had taken. He was shaken from his reminiscing by the sensation of another Immortal. Duncan felt it too as he and Kincaid popped into the tunnel at the other end. They saw Wilson, standing there apparently alive again, and stopped in their tracks. Duncan looked at Kincaid and Kincaid looked back at him. The thought that the clone was alive and reconstituted quickly vanished when they saw that the decapitated body still lay on the ground. Then they knew that this was the real thing, or perhaps another clone. "Hello, Kincaid, MacLeod." Wilson took a couple of swings in the air with his sword. "I believe this belongs to me." * 1995: Blackwood Project Base After some discussion, both Duncan and the members of the Blackwood Project were convinced that this Wilson was the genuine article. Wilson told them what he could remember about being captured and cloned, but his memory was very hazy about the entire ordeal. "We're just glad you're alive, Uncle Hank," Suzanne said. Duncan jumped into the conversation. "Your clone referred to you giving me a fourth reprieve. But we only met once, during the invasion of 1898. I've never seen you since, and you've certainly have never been in a position to take my head and didn't." "Ah, think about it MacLeod. Three reprieves. You all know now that there was an invasion of 1898. So ...?" Harrison came up with the answer after a moment's thought. "The other invasions! In 1938 and 1953. That has to be it." Wilson smiled. "Correct. Very astute of you." Duncan was unconvinced. "I don't think so. I wasn't involved in 1938 or 1953. I'm sure of it." "Then use that Immortal elephant-like memory and tell me where you were at the end of October, 1938?" Wilson asked. "I was, um, I was in, no" Duncan stuttered. "I was over by, no that's not it either." "Let me help you." Wilson offered. "Princeton, New Jersey. Carl Phillips. Professor Richard Pearson. Ring any bells." Wilson snapped his fingers. "Oh, Lord. I was there. I was in New Jersey ..." =========================================================================