NaNo 2007: Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Inconsistencies

Duncan feels the buzz of an Immortal and looks up.

"Immortal?" Joe asks.

"I think it's the new Immortal I found today," Duncan replies.

"So soon? Mac, he didn't even believe he died. Or that he could really be on Earth."

The new Immortal walks into the dojo. "Told you so," Duncan tells Joe. "I had a feeling about him." He goes to meet the new Immortal.

The telltale odor of ozone lingers around the new Immortal, and Duncan raises his eyebrows. "You took a head?"

"I was attacked," the new Immortal says. "When she came back to life, I decided there might be something to what you said. And the lightning show and seeing her memories were too bizarre to be anything but real."

"Seeing her memories? I've never heard of that happening."

The new Immortal shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time strange things have happened to me. It's pretty much par for the course by now."

"The 'lightning show' is called the quickening. Some Immortals hunt other Immortals to take their quickening, because of the Game."

"The Game? What's that?"

"It's said that at the end of it, when there's only one Immortal left alive, that Immortal will have ultimate power and knowledge."

"So is that what she meant when she said there can be only one?"

"Some Immortals use it as justification for headhunting."

"I've had enough people trying to kill me for one lifetime," the new Immortal says. Maybe he was in a war. Or maybe he really is a wanted man. "I don't suppose there's any way to opt out?"

"We can't fight on holy ground, but unless you want to spend the rest of your life there it isn't a permanent solution."

"So what, I'm supposed to just learn how to swordfight?"

"If you want to survive."

"I just want to get home," the new mortal says.

"So go home," Duncan says. "If you can find someone to teach you to fight there."

"I wish I could." His expression darkens. "I don't even know how anymore." He pauses. "But that makes me sound either crazy or homeless. I suppose I am homeless for now. But anyway, I'm John Crichton." He holds out his hand to shake.

"Duncan MacLeod," Duncan replies, shrugging off the strangeness and shaking his hand. "Of the clan MacLeod."

"Nice to meet you, Duncan," Crichton says. "I don't suppose you're willing to teach a new Immortal how to use a sword?"

"Anytime," Duncan replies. "And a few more things besides."

"There's more to this Immortality thing?" Crichton asks.

"That's just the things you need to know to survive," Duncan says. "There are other things you need to know."

"Like what?" Crichton asks.

"Every Immortal is a foundling, and we can't have children."

"But…" Crichton starts, and then stops suddenly. "Ah. Never mind."

"What?" Duncan asks.

"I don't fit your pattern, but that's because of some things you wouldn't believe if I told you. So just ignore it."

"Every Immortal fits the pattern. If you think you don’t, you're wrong." He tries to imagine what it would be like to suddenly find out that the children he'd thought were his, actually aren't. He already knows the pain of suddenly learning he's adopted. "Sorry." The word really doesn't convey it all.

"Believe what you want," Crichton says, "But I look a lot like my dad, and we had a paternity test done on my son."

"But that's impossible."

"Impossible is not in our vocabulary," Crichton says, obviously quoting something. "I think this is all because a while back some…people…did some things to me. I thought I knew about all of them, but apparently I was wrong." Whoever these people are, he obviously doesn't like them. He spits out the word as if he doesn't think it should apply to them.

"What people?"

"Nobody you know," Crichton says with a humorless laugh. "Don't worry about it, seriously."

Crichton clearly doesn't have the tightest grasp on reality, but he seems to be functional enough. He's even taken his first head already, which is more than most new Immortals manage to do before their permanent deaths. A lot of immortals go crazy at least once in their lives, if they live long enough for all of the implications of being Immortal to sink in.

"You can crash on my couch," Duncan offers. "Until you get somewhere to live and a job. And an ID?"

"It would have to be fake," Crichton says.

"I was born in 1492. Do you think they had social security or drivers' licenses back then? I can get you a legitimate ID of somebody else."