Of Biblical Proportions (11/11)
V
In Paris, Methos used his key to enter the spacious apartment that he
had been renting for the past two years, in which he had spent very
little time. Dust covered most everything, with footprints leading
from the door, into his bedroom, to his closet and to the bed. It had
been freshly made and slept in--maybe once. A note was pinned to the
pillow.
Found the backpack with my notes. Everything is there.
On my way down to South Africa and the NIV. I cleared
up our misunderstandings by explaining that I was a relative
of Serena Mandeville and have uncovered her notes. They're
welcoming me with open arms. I'm close--really close to
finding that vaccine. I'll be in touch.
Rena
Methos smiled as he crumpled up the note and stuffed it into his
pocket. Turning on his stereo, he plopped several CDs in and began
the arduous chore of cleaning. Several of his friends had told him to
get a cleaning service, but with the amount of ancient, secret
belongings stored in the apartment, he was afraid of both theft and
discovery. Not to mention how he would explain to the authorities
that it all really did belong to him and had not been stolen from some
museum somewhere. Which. of course, some had been.
Taking a quick break, he ordered some food from the local bistro and
had it delivered. After he considered his abode dust free, and his
stomach had also been satisfied, he took out the large portfolio case
and spread the contents over the oriental carpet in the living room.
The only thing missing from the collection was the diagram of how to
put the Methuselah Stone together. That was because he had never put
it in the wine cask in the desert, but had kept it with his person.
Then it had been stolen around the same time he had tried to obtain it
to save Alexa's life. Now he had a good idea who had taken it: the
demented Watcher, Murray.
Methos spread the scrolls out and tried to see if he could come up
with anything to help MacLeod. In truth, only the history was there.
No one had written of what would happen if the Spirit of God entered
an Immortal, at least not in a library run by mortals. The Watchers
didn't have such a book either. He had checked.
What would the great MacLeod be thinking, knowing that the Methuselah
Stone had merged with him? He would be scared. Absolute power
corrupts absolutely. Just wanting the power is the first step to
corruption. MacLeod hadn't desired it, but now he had it. Would it
change him? That was probably what kept Duncan MacLeod of the clan
MacLeod up at night. He wouldn't want to change. He was very
comfortable in his old chivalrous coat. Would believing he had the
power force him to change?
Methos dropped his eyes to the document in his hand. The fancy script
brought him back to the little corner room in the Museion that
everyone had forgotten. He would reread the collection of Manetho's
texts. Maybe he had missed something last night. Enoch was
reportedly the source of early biblical information. This was true
today and seemed to have been true twenty-five hundred years ago,
according to Manetho. How had Manetho obtained Enoch's words? Methos
wished he knew the answer to that one.
The ringing of the telephone broke into Methos' thoughts. The
answering machine kicked in.
"Pierson's gone. Leave a message and maybe I'll return it," the box
said.
"Adam, this is Joe. I really need to see you. Call me when you get
back--"
Methos picked up the phone. "Hello, Joe."
"We've got a real emergency on our hands," the Watcher said without
preamble.
"It's nice to hear your voice, too, Joe. What's the emergency?
MacLeod gone off the deep end or something?"
There was silence on the other end. "You know what happened?" Joe
asked tentatively.
"I had a visit from Dr. Amy Zoll down in Cairo. She came pounding on
my door, demanding to be let in."
"Persistent, isn't she?" Joe remarked.
Methos could hear the laughter lurking in his voice. "I don't think
she likes me, Joe."
"Tell me about it," the Watcher responded. "What did she want?"
"Same as you, I suspect--answers about the Methuselah Stone."
"Do ya have any?"
"I've just recovered some old texts from Egypt."
"All we got is an old diagram that shows how to put the crystal
together."
"I take it you got it from Murray?" he asked, voice cold.
Joe continued, "Yep. He worked for years finding and assembling all
the pieces."
"Where did *he* get the diagram from?" Methos needed to know if
anyone else had seen the document.
"He told us that he stole it from you, well, from Adam Pierson's
apartment. That's how he found out how many pieces there were, and
when he had them all except for Amanda's."
Methos felt the tension leave his body. "Is MacLeod with you?"
"No, he's spending a lot of time alone. He's afraid of what's inside
him."
"You're not telling me that he believes all that garbage about being
invincible?"
"Well, yes." Joe sounded unsure of himself. "Are you saying that you
have proof that it's not?"
"Come on, Joe. You know that no matter how strong or how smart or how
lucky a person is, someone can always cheat. Then you're just as
dead. MacLeod could be the best sword fighter, be inexhaustible, but
is he proof against a long-range bullet though the heart? In mortal
death, anyone can chop off his head."
"What if the Methuselah Stone's energy allows the sword to go through
the neck without severing it from the body? What if the long-range
bullet doesn't bring about mortal death?
Methos paused. "Has that happened?"
"Not yet. But it might."
Methos' mind was racing. He firmly believed that the crystal could
prolong mortal life. It didn't make them immortal; it only slowed
down aging. It was an ancient magic made *for* mortals and *only* for
them. What would happen when it merged with an Immortal? "Did you
see it, Joe?"
"I didn't see it go into Mac, but he was screaming bloody murder.
Amanda said it was like a very powerful quickening. The crystal
turned into a ball of energy and went right inside his chest."
Doubt crept in. Could MacLeod have this new power? "Is he at the
barge?" Methos asked, now determined to find out for himself.
"Yes. But he's not seeing visitors."
"He'll see me," Methos assured him.
Immortals didn't need the kind of magic the Methuselah Stone
represented, Methos told himself as he retrieved his pistol from a
drawer and slid it into a pocket. His sword was in his coat. Fully
armed, he headed to the barge to confirm his belief.
The Immortal presence hit him as he neared MacLeod's home. He was
careful not to speak and warn the other Immortal of who was there, but
let the mutual awareness speak for itself. The door didn't budge and
he could hear no signs of movement inside. Methos took out his gun,
then kicked the door open. The sound of the screws hitting the floor
echoed in the silence.
MacLeod had his back to the door, but his katana was swirling in the
air. Methos was relieved to see that the Highlander had not forsaken
his weapon in favor of his new invincibility.
"Leave. You cannot hope to win." MacLeod's voice throbbed with pain.
"Depends upon my aim," Methos replied, causing the Highlander to pivot
abruptly and face him.
Instantly Methos shot him in the heart. MacLeod touched his chest,
blood coating his hand. "Am I an abomination, now?" Then he sank to
the floor in mortal death.
"No, you're pretty much what you've always been," Methos told the dead
body. "A pig-headed, gullible, clan-leader. But not--invincible."
Methos walked to the fridge and took out a beer. Making himself
comfortable on the couch, he waited. It didn't take long. Only half
of the bottle had been depleted before MacLeod took that first
shuddering breath and heaved himself into a sitting position. Methos
met accusing eyes calmly. "For someone who thinks he can't die, you
did a good job of it just now."
"Why did you do that?" the Highlander asked.
"Joe said something about dreams of grandeur. I set out to prove them
wrong."
"What's that supposed to mean?" MacLeod got off the floor and went to
retrieve himself a beer. As he started to pop the cap, he paused and
put it back in the fridge. Instead he brought out a bottle of
single-malt whisky and two glasses, pouring some for himself.
Methos laughed. "It's been a tough week. First you're thinking that
all the old wives' tales are correct and you have infinite power, and
next you find yourself dead on the floor of your own home. Quite a
let-down, I know."
"Methos. Do you know something about this?"
"I happen to know quite a lot." MacLeod's eyes darkened in impatient
anger. "Okay. I'll tell you what I know."
Methos grabbed the bottle of whiskey and the other glass. "You're a
Catholic, so you probably know the Bible better than I do. At the
beginning of time, God created man."
"Yes, I do know that story." His tone was one of impatience mixed
with resignation.
"In God's infinite wisdom, he allowed this first mortal to live a very
long life. Some say as long as 930 years. During Adam's life he
sired three sons: Cain, Abel and Seth. As punishment for killing his
brother, Cain's line died out. Only the descendants of Seth survived.
When Adam was 687 years old, Methuselah was born. This mortal too,
lived a long life, 969 years in total."
"I do know all this. Not the exact ages, but I knew they were old
when they died."
"Do you know why they lived such a long time?"
"The spirit of God," MacLeod answered without needing the think.
Methos was stunned, but hid it. "You're right. The Spirit of God.
This Spirit was able to be transferred from mortal to mortal by way of
a ball of energy, of multiple shards of crystal that when assembled
correctly became that Spirit. After being used many times, the spirit
weakened, and God's grace became diluted. Only Methuselah's remained
strong, because Noah preserved it. His grandfather would not be on
the ark, and to remember and revere him, Noah decreed that his Spirit
would remain always in crystal form. How it went from relic to the
necklaces that Rebecca handed out, I don't know." Methos paused,
letting MacLeod soak in what he'd just been told.
"Things happen for a reason. You were a champion who defeated
Ahriman. Maybe there's something inside you that's drawn to good
versus evil fights. I don't know. That quickening you took was not
something that would make you invincible, but maybe to keep your soul
pure. Or maybe only a pure soul could house the thing. In anyone
else, it would kill. Your guess is as good as mine."
Methos stood up and drew his sword and laid it upon MacLeod's
shoulders. "But don't ever think that the energy inside you can
prevent a blade from slicing off your head." Methos let the edge
slice the skin and draw some blood. To his surprise, no blood came
out. Skillfully hiding his shock, he went on with his lecture. "You
are still immortal and can still die."
Methos sat down quickly, taking another shot and downing it quickly.
He truly believed what he had just told his friend and would not
accept any other reasoning. It was in MacLeod's best interest to
believe it, too.
"So, I've been blessed by God himself?" MacLeod said, with awe in his
voice.
"Yep, that sums it up. A blessing is not invincibility. I've already
showed you that you could die."
MacLeod's posture went from one of defeat, to one of importance. He
held his head up and looked to be the proud warrior he was. Methos
was relieved at the transformation. His friend had been through a lot
in the past few years. Maybe things would settle down now.
"Let's go see Joe," Methos suggested. "I know he'll be happy to see
his old friend back."
As they walked out the door, MacLeod looked at his broken lock. "You
gonna fix this?"
"Yeah, tomorrow," Methos replied. The oldest Immortal glanced at the
neck of his friend as they walked. Was it possible that the crystal
had more magic than he knew? If it did, there was no better host on
the planet for it to be in, he consoled himself.
The End
Author's Notes:
1. The scene at the excavation was taken from a PBS special-Secrets
of the Pharaohs. Some of the names were also taken from there. The
idea that the pyramids were built by professionals not slaves is one
that is taking hold and one I personally think is true. The PBS
special provided some interesting facts to back up this hypothesis.
The lesson Methos gives on brewing beer is also taken from this
special.
2. Laodicea was a center of banking and exchange at this time. It
was located on the common road from Rome to its southern provinces.
It was known around the world for its eye salve and had a prestigious
medical center. On the hills around the city, black sheep grazed and
their black wool was much sought after.
3. Metopholus was a name listed in the Watcher CD that Methos had
used as an alias.
4. Apollonius was named the head librarian of the Museion in George's
book.
5. The characters of Nebamun, Labrienus, Martius, and Arqamani are
all my invention, although the names themselves were taken from
George's book.
6. Manetho was a historian commissioned by the first Ptolemy to write
a history of Egypt and compile a list of all the pharaohs. I invented
the dissertation on the beginning of time.
7. Julia Harami and Amy Zoll are listed in the CD as presenting the
lecture "The Four Horsemen in Myth and Legend" at an Applied Research
conference for Watchers in January, 1997, in Albertville France. Dr.
Harami is the head researcher for and on the Middle East.
