Date: Wed, 7 Jun 1995 12:00:00 PDT Reply-To: Julia Frizzell Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Julia Frizzell Subject: Witness Part 26 [Michele Martin didn't realize that the last parts never made it to our fiction list, and has given me permission to repost them for her here. (no, as far as I can tell, they never were posted *here*, so Debbie, this isn't really a repost!) To get other parts of this story, send a message to fiction@tagsys.com. Put "Witness part N" in the subject, where N= the part you need. "Witness" alone in the subject should get all the parts to you. No message necessary in the main body of the mail.] Epilogue..... Sam waited for the blue haze of the leap to clear up so he could survey his new surroundings. Already the memories of his previous leap were becoming jumbled. All that really remained clear was that something extremely strange had taken place. Something about...aliens? vampires? sword fights? Perhaps it was better forgotten. As the seemingly eternal moment of transition ended, he found himself seated in front of a computer. He stared blankly at the screen, which contained a confusing array of numbers...like some sort of code. "Well, what do you think?" a woman's voice asked nearby. *What do I think? About what?* "Austin? Hello?" the voice asked again. A hand waved in front of his face. He shook his head as if to clear it and turned to face whoever it was. The woman seated on the desk next to him looked to be in her mid-twenties. Before he could think of a reply, a phone rang. Or something rang--it sounded like a phone. But he couldn't actually _see_ a phone anywhere in this...what? It wasn't a house...more like a warehouse. He could see all sorts of scientific equipment scattered around. In the middle, not far from where he sat, was an area that looked sort of like a kitchen. A sofa and television was off to one side. Nothing that looked like a bedroom, though there were steps leading to a sort of second story. All this he took in as he glanced around for the phone. It rang again...sounding like it was coming from some sort of loud speaker. "Are you going to get that?" the woman asked, beginning to look a bit concerned. "Austin, are you feeling alright?" "Um, well, now that you mention it, I do have kind of a headache..." he answered lamely. "I hope this doesn't mean that your brain is going kaput...though I wouldn't be surprised if you got a sudden case of burnout. You know, you really ought to take a vacation, away from all this stuff," as she said this, she grabbed a small microphone that was sitting on the table near his hand. "Patch it in. Austin James' residence...." "Miss Castle? Is Mr. James there?" a petulent voice responded over the sound system. "He's right here, Detective Walker. But he's...," she paused as if trying to decide _what_ he was doing, "...very busy at the moment. Can I take a message?" "Yes. You can tell him there's been another murder." *Not again* Sam thought as he involuntarily muttered, "Oh boy." Mulder's apartment 3 weeks later Mulder carefully opened the door to his apartment, his arms full of mail and his mind on the most recent case. He and Scully were to fly out to Los Angeles tomorrow to investigate the disappearance and possible murder of Drs Elvin Lincoln and William Hayes, two researchers with the Human Investigation Team of Humanidyne, a private research institute. That sometimes worked on government and military contracts. Which was one of the reasons Mulder was interested in the case. The other had to do with a fingerprint found in the laboratory of the two men--a fingerprint that appeared to have been made by someone only 6 inches tall. Yet when blown up to normal human proportions it exactly matched that of Dr. Lincoln, a man standing 7 feet 4 inches in height. Very strange. Almost as strange as the fact that the only motor vehicle Dr. Hayes owned was a Fundae Sundae Ice Cream truck...which was also missing. As he pondered over the oddities of this current case, he sorted through the day's mail. Mostly junk, but there were two items of interest. One was a thick envelope postmarked from Seattle. The return address read "Joe's Bar". The other was a postcard from Ireland. He decided to open the envelope first. It was full of photocopied pages from a book. He scanned the pages, his eyes widening in surprise. This was the information Duncan MacLeod had promised--information on the Immortal called Hanson, who Mulder knew only as "Cancer Man". He'd have to find a safe place to keep this. There was one other thing in side. It was a small flier with the title "So, you want to be a Watcher?" and a picture of a symbol Mulder recognized as the tattoo the alien, Paul Forrester, had seen tattooed on the wrist of the vampire that had attacked his son. Just thinking that last sentence made his head hurt. He skimmed the information in the flier. Tempting, but no. Tattoos made him squeamish. Setting the packet of information aside, he picked up the postcard. It was signed simply 'PF'. He had a sneaking suspicion who it was from, and the message on the card confirmed it: "Greetings Agent Mulder, "We arrived safely in Scotland with CM and have been spending the holiday season touring Europe. S says he needs a break after what happened, and we have to wait for NK to send us his records anyway. Besides which, none of us has ever been to Europe before. It's very interesting, especially here in Ireland. One thing puzzles me, though. Everywhere we go in this country, I see these tiny men dressed all in green. But no one else seems to notice them. Even S thinks I'm "seeing things". Perhaps it is something you'll investigate someday. I've also contacted my people regarding your missing S. I hope one day to repay you for your help by aiding you in your quest. Give our regards to Agent Scully, PF." He read the message carefully. Twice. Little men? It couldn't be...no, he didn't even want to think about it. The latter half of the message was more important. Apparantly he'd contacted others of his kind regarding Samantha. For that alone, Mulder was extremely grateful. He turned to the picture of his sister that sat on his desk. It had been taken shortly before her disappearance. He carried the picture over to his couch as he sat down and continued to gaze at the picture. And wonder, yet again, where she was.... ...She was wondering the same thing as she slowly returned to consciousness. Though why she had been unconscious...or asleep...was a mystery. In fact, almost everything that had happened before was a mystery. She wasn't even sure of her name. Wait, she could almost... The distant, hazy memory of a young male voice calling "Samantha" floated through her consciousnes. Samantha--that was her. The voice belonged to...Fox! Her brother. But why had he been calling her name? It seemed so long ago. And where was she? Well, there was one way to find out. Slowly she opened her eyes. She was lying on her back, on some sort of couch or bed. The ceiling far above her was metallic, and she couldn't identify the light source. She turned her head to one side to get a better look at the room. From what she could see, it was some sort of lab or hospital or something. It didn't quite look right. Suddenly a voice spoke from her other side. It sounded like a woman's voice, but the language was unfamiliar. She turned to face the speaker--a woman, in her mid-thirties, with short, blond hair and a friendly smile. The woman was wearing a rather unflattering tan outfit--almost like some sort of uniform. She spoke again, but Samantha still couldn't understand it. "I'm sorry....I, I, don't understand..." she stammered. She was surprised at the sound of her own voice. It didn't really sound quite the way she had remembered it. It was...older, somehow. But then, how old was she? The woman, meanwhile, had looked a little puzzled at her response. Obviously she didn't understand Samantha either. She indicated with her hand that she'd be back in a moment and moved over to a nearby table. >From it, she picked up an odd looking device. She brought it back to where Samantha was and indicated that she should speak into it. "What do you want me to say?" she asked, puzzled. The device beeped, then displayed a myriad of flashing lights. Suddenly, the device itself seemed to speak in a tone similar to Samantha's, but in a different language. The woman nodded, and smiled again. She spoke into the device. After a brief delay, the device apparantly repeated the message to Samantha, this time in English. "Sorry--I didn't realize that there might be a language problem. This is a languatron--it will translate for us. How are you feeling?" "Um, fine...I guess. My head is a little bit sore. Please, can you tell me where I am and how I got here?" Samantha realized her voice sounded shaky. Probably because she was very frightened. "You were rescued from another ship. Don't be frightened--I'm here to help you. My name is Cassiopeia...but you can just call me Cassie. I'm a doctor, sort of. Do you remember anything at all? Like your name, for starters?" "I'm Samantha...but that's all I can remember. Did you say rescued? >From whom?" "Well, we're not really sure. We've never encountered beings like the ones who had you captive. I must say, though, they weren't particularly friendly. But you seem to be mostly unharmed. I'm not surprised you can't really remember too much...it must have been a very tramatic experience. Do you remember at all where you're from?" "Wait, you still haven't told me where I am...and who's 'we'?" "You're in the Life Center of our ship. You were unconscious when you were found, so they brought you in here." Cassiopeia glanced over at the far corner of the room. Samantha noticed now that there were two men standing in the corner, trying to remain unobtrusive. Both were dressed in uniforms the same color as Cassie's, with brown jackets and rather ominous looking weapons on their belts. Samantha swallowed nervously. Cassie seemed to notice her distress. "Don't worry. There are the men who rescued you. Please, don't be frightened...we just want to know as much as we can about you so we can help you." She motioned to the two men to come forward. "This is Captain Apollo," she indicated the dark-haired one, "and this is Lieutenant Starbuck," pointing at the blond-haired one, who flashed her a friendly smile. Samantha still wasn't sure that they were quite as friendly as they appeared, though she couldn't determine why she felt so, well, paranoid. "Can you take me home?" she asked. She really wanted to go home. Her parents and her brother must really be worried about her. She said as much to the three people surrounding her. "Can you tell us where home is?" asked the one called Apollo. "Are you from the Colonies?" *Colonies? What colonies? Were these some of those old-fashioned European types that referred to America as the colonies?* "I'm from Massachusetts...in America," she replied. The looked confuse, as if they'd never heard of those places. Which made Samantha _really_ nervous. "Ah, is 'Massachusetts' or 'America' the name of the planet you come from?" asked the one called Starbuck. A cold shiver ran down Samantha's spine. *Oh dear God! Where am I? What happened?* she thought. "Neither...the planet's name is Earth," she answered in a small voice. When the languatron finished the translation, Starbuck, Apollo, and Cassiopeia looked stunned. They exchanged surprised, yet hopeful glances. All at once they turned back to her and exclaimed, "Did you say _Earth_ ??!!" *****************************THE END************************************* The author wishes to thank her creative consultant, Lisa Kadlec, for help with characterizations and for putting up with listening to her crazy ramblings on story ideas. Thanks also to James Holman for a few creative imput ideas of his own. Sorry the video truck wasn't used _exactly_ as you intended, James. :) ************************************************************************** =========================================================================