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CRUEL DECEPTION
1994
Richie Ryan slept peacefully, thought the girl as she watched him.Too peacefully, perhaps. She wondered how he did it when he could be such an intense individual. His intensity had made her forget a few fundamental things that were supposed to contribute to successful intimacy... Somehow, she knew it didn't matter, but she didn't know why.
He was looking at her. "Hi," was all he said.
"Hi."
"You okay? You look kinda freaked."
The girl smiled. "No, I'm fine. I just... I realised that we... that we didn't..." She stumbled over the words, trying to get this supposedly easy topic out of the way.
But Richie grinned. Actually *grinned* at her. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I can't have kids."
That hadn't been what she'd meant, but she was still startled. "What?"
"I can't ever have any, so it's okay."
"Did you go to the doctor or something?"
"No. But I know."
"How?"
"I just do. Take my word for it, Elyse."
"You're not just saying that to... you know."
"No."
He said it with such finality that she knew it was true. She wondered how he could know if he hadn't been to a doctor... "Well!" She got up. "Time to eat something, I think. It'll be my turn today, okay? I'll just borrow a shirt." She opened the cupboard, but instead of a shirt she found a sword. Lifting it carefully, she stared. "Why do you have a rapier in your closet?"
Richie got up. "It's a long story." He looked into her eyes; saw dawning comprehension as she looked at him, then at the sword. "From Toledo, Spain, no less," she added. "The real thing, not a copy. You
said you'd reformed, so where did this come from?"
"Mac gave it to me."
"Oh, your friend. The one who owns the dojo."
"Yeah. He used to own an antique store. The first time I met him, I nearly stole one of his swords. But this one he gave to me. Kind of an initiation present."
"You're an Immortal." She looked away, then back. Then at him, then at the sword. Ran her hands over her face. "I can't believe this. You're an *Immortal*. Aren't you?"
"Yeah." Then, "How did you know?"
"Oh, boy. Maybe we should sit down."
1988
"So, you're going to learn swordsmanship?"
"Yeah, why not? There's so little of it; why did you learn about swords if you weren't going to pass it on to people?"
"But there are a thousand other arts you could learn, Elyse. Wasn't the ballet enough? I understand your fascination with swords, but not the other."
"It's your fault," smiled Elyse. "When you were making the props for the theatre, you showed me each one. Each *sword*. Didn't you ever think that crept into my imagination?"
"Well, you did read about Excalibur, sword of kings. You saw Shogun about twenty times. I thought it was a phase you'd grow out of."
"Well, Dad, I didn't."
***
Her father went out; someone else came in. Elyse barely looked up. "Sorry, ballet lessons start next week."
"I didn't come for lessons. I came for your head."
Now Elyse looked up. "What?"
The man was tall and tanned with sandy hair. He was wearing black. He was also carrying a sword. A katana, no less. "I came for your head," he repeated.
"I don't appreciate that kind of humour," Elyse responded. "Just get the hell away from me."
But the man approached, sword held high. Elyse grabbed the only sword she kept in the studio, an imitation Claymore.
When he saw that she knew what she was doing, he backed away. "Give in now; sooner or later someone *will* take your head."
"I'd rather it was later, thank you."
"You're going to be one of us, and you're going to be fighting for your life for as long as it lasts... be it one hundred days or one hundred years. Let me end it now."
"No."
"I know you'll be Immortal. I'm the only one who does. I could protect you... but I want a favour." He looked her up and down.
"Look, I don't know what you're talking about!" shouted Elyse. "Now get out before I call the police!"
Just then, her father's voice filtered into the studio. "Honey, Mrs Locke called. She asked about ballet classes."
"Dad!"
The man in black backed off. "Too bad. We could have enjoyed ourselves together." He turned and exited, not looking back.
Elyse's father came back in. "I told her you weren't teaching ballet until next week."
"Thanks," said Elyse.
1994
"That wasn't enough for you to know about Immortals," said Richie.
"No... four years ago I met a guy. I thought he was Superman. I had these fantasies... you know, the house, the dog, the kids. Even the damn picket fence, and I *hate* those fences!"
"What happened?"
"Once, I was late... you know?" Richie nodded. "Well, I told him I thought I was pregnant, and he hit me."
"Hit you?"
"Yeah. He accused me of being unfaithful to him, and then he told me he couldn't have children. Just like you just did. But he told me why. He had a sword, too. He showed me - actually, I thought he was
gonna kill me."
"What did you do?"
"I told him I must have made a mistake... and of course, I had. Not only because of him... because of me. I can't have children either."
"You're not Immortal," Richie said.
"Of course not. I was too frightened. I was 21, Richie. The thought of being 21 forever really scared me."
Richie smiled a sad, ironic smile. "I'm 18 forever."
"Sorry." She held out her arms, and he hugged her. "Sometimes when I was frightened of... of someone coming for me, I'd get out the razor blade... but I couldn't do it. I was too scared I'd stay dead.
I still am."
"You might stay dead."
"No. My lover told me everything. The Game. The Rules. The man who came to my studio was the Immortal destined to be my protector... mentor... whatever. That's why he knew. That's why he wanted either me or my head."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know."
"If you can describe him, we'll go ask Joe. He's a Watcher."
"What's that?"
"If you're really an Immortal, you'll find out."
***
"Sounds like Paul Coetzer," said Dawson. "Did he have an odd accent?"
Elyse tried to remember. "Yeah... like he was Australian or something."
"Uh uh, South African. He's quite a young Immortal... only two hundred years old."
"Hey!" said Richie, pretending to be hurt. "I'm only 20, you know."
"Sorry. You know what I mean. And he tried to take your head *before* you became Immortal?"
"I'm not Immortal yet," she said.
Richie could see Joe mentally filing away the information. But all Dawson said was, "Don't you people have a rule against telling the person?"
"Well, I think so," said Richie. "Duncan knew the night I broke into the antique store. He threatened to cut my head off!"
"But he didn't. And he didn't tell you the reason, did he?"
"No. At first I thought he was just an eccentric antiques dealer who thought swords were purer weapons than guns. That only lasted about five seconds, though."
"Yeah, Slan and Connor MacLeod showed up."
"How -- " began Richie, then stopped. He knew how. "But after that he didn't tell me I was going to be an Immortal. He just kinda took me in. Said it was to stop me from talking, but I knew there was something else to it. I wasn't gonna look a gift horse... you know."
Dawson turned to Elyse. "Why did you want to know?"
"I just did. I need to know who my protector was supposed to be."
"Fate's a strange one," Joe said. "To choose him for you."
"Why?"
"He isn't a peaceful man. He made headlines in his home country originally... a series of gruesome murders."
"Other Immortals?"
"That's just the thing - no. They were just normal people, all found murdered in the most hideous ways. And get this - he confessed. Sentenced to death... well, you know how that turns out. After that
he left the country and went to England. Eight years ago he came here. Under a different name, of course."
"And I got him for my protector?"
"Yeah, if that bit about him thinking you're going to become Immortal is true."
"What about Jonathan?"
"Who?"
"My lover. He told me all about Immortals. Jonathan Dalle."
"Name doesn't ring a bell," said Joe. "Describe him."
Describing him didn't help; either the man was a new Immortal, or he'd assumed a new identity and appearance. It was probably the latter, but they had no way to know.
"Look," said Joe. "Do you think it matters terribly?
"
"No, I just... it would have been nice to know, that's all."
"You have me," said Richie. "What do you need him for?"
Elyse grabbed him and kissed him firmly. "Nothing!"
***
"Richie..."
Richie was practising with his sword. "Yeah?"
"Do you love me?" It was a bit of a sudden question, make no mistake.
"Yeah, I... I think so."
Elyse smiled. "You think?" But she knew how difficult it was to admit something like that. "I guess I feel the same. How long have we been together, anyway?"
"Three weeks."
"Seems longer."
Richie put down the rapier. "Yeah, it does." He kissed her. "If you really are an Immortal, it might turn out to be a very long time..."
Something about that frightened Elyse. "Let's just accept each day for itself, okay?"
Richie knew the wisdom of that thinking. "Okay." He kissed her again. "Let's forget about the future for now, huh?"
"Sure."
***
The phone rang a little later. "Yeah? What?" That was Richie's greeting. "Oh, hi, Joe. What's up?" He paused, and Elyse pulled up the sheet and sat up, because Richie's smile had turned into a frown. Then he turned to her. "It's for you. Joe says he knows where Paul Coetzer is."
Elyse took the phone. "Joe?"
"We found him. We know where he is."
Elyse went cold. She suddenly knew. "He's here, isn't he? Right here in the city. Isn't he?"
"Yeah."
"He can't find me, right?" Silence at the other end. "Joe, tell me he can't find me."
"I don't think he can, but we don't know everything yet about how becoming Immortal works. You know that. If he really is your 'mentor', maybe he could. I just don't know."
"Thanks for telling me."
***
Elyse looked at Richie with panic in her eyes. "I don't want to die," she said. "He'll take my head this time, I know he will."
"I won't let that happen."
"You didn't see him, Richie! He'll take yours first and then come after me!" She started to cry.
"Elyse!" Richie shook her. "I'll protect you. I'll take you to Mac. No one'll get you when he's around."
Elyse grabbed him and held on for dear life. "Don't leave me, okay? I can use a sword, but he's so much older!"
"I won't."
"Make love to me now, Richie, please. Let's celebrate life, not death."
Richie tried to disengage himself from her grasp. "Look, I think we should go to the dojo right away."
"I don't want to go now. I want to be with you. Please."
Richie was, after all, 18 forever. "Okay. We'll go later."
***
"So this man... Paul Coetzer, thinks you're going to become an Immortal, and he wants your head?" Duncan MacLeod asked Elyse.
"That's right. Richie says I'll be safe here."
Duncan looked at Richie, shrugged. "You probably will."
"Just for a few days, Mac."
"Okay."
***
"What's the story with this Paul character?" Duncan asked Joe. "Do you think it's likely that she is an Immortal?"
"I don't know, MacLeod. He might have been trying some sort of con game on her. She's obviously convinced."
"But you aren't?"
"There's something missing from the equation, Mac. I can feel it. I watch, I observe. But I've never heard of anything like this before. With the exception of you and Richie."
"Okay, Joe. Let's get to the bottom line. Is she going to become Immortal?"
"I honestly don't know."
***
The phone rang in the dojo one afternoon. Elyse answered it. "Hullo, Elyse. My offer still stands."
Elyse tried to get the words out, but her throat had closed. "N...no..."
"I think I'll kill your boyfriend, too. His Quickening won't be worth much, but it'll do."
"I'm not Immortal yet. Why me? Tell me, please!"
MacLeod grabbed the phone out of Elyse's hands in time to hear, "I want you; always have. If I can't have you I'll have your head."
"You come near Elyse and I'll kill you," said Duncan into the phone.
But the phone went dead.
Elyse looked at Duncan. "He knew I was here. How did he know that?"
Duncan looked at the floor, then back at her. "I think he's developed an obsession with you. I don't think he wants your head at all. To him you're just an exotic plaything. And I think he lied when
he told you you're Immortal."
"You don't know that," she said. "You don't know it isn't true."
"No, we don't know, not for sure. But I wouldn't like for you to die finding out."
"If I'm Immortal, I'll come back."
She was too stubborn. It seemed her heart was set on being Immortal. Duncan grabbed her arm.
"You're hurting me."
"Listen to me! We can't have you taking any chances, do you understand? Because finding out you were wrong isn't going to be only disappointing!"
Elyse pulled her arm free. "I can't keep living like this, Duncan, don't you understand? I have to know!"
"Even if you die finding out?"
"I won't die. Paul Coetzer knows the truth. Let's find him and find out once and for all!"
"Oh, no." Duncan shook his head violently. "No way."
"It's the only way, and you know it."
"We'll wait here. Sooner or later he'll come for you."
***
But Elyse wasn't interested. It *was* painful to live in fear. She didn't want to die, but rather die knowing the truth than live with uncertainty. She waited until Duncan had to go out, then set to work getting by Richie. It wasn't hard; within an hour she flung on some clothes and sneaked out.
Paul was waiting for her right behind the dojo. "I knew you'd come. You had to know, didn't you?"
"Look, just tell me the truth, please."
"Truth is relative, my sweet. I want you. Any part of you that I can have - and that includes your head."
"Go to hell."
"So impolite. What happened to the ballet dancer who glided across the floor so gracefully?"
1985
Elyse ran her hand across her costume. Everything was in place. This one last dance and it would be over! All that exhausting work, over. She was 17, and had the world at her feet. As she took the stage and danced, she never saw the man at the back of the theatre who stared transfixed at the vision on the stage. At the woman of his dreams. She was the image of a woman he had loved nearly 150 years ago: tall, with fine, delicate skin and soft, brown hair. He had to have her, come what may.
1994
Richie woke up with a sense of dread. Somehow, he *knew* that she'd slipped out on him. She'd tricked him in the oldest possible way and left the dojo.
"Damn!" Richie pulled on his jeans and sneakers as fast as he could; grabbing his sword on the way out.
Elyse and Paul Coetzer were still standing behind the dojo.
"How did -- " Elyse began. "You saw me dance! You saw me when we did Romeo and Juliet 9 years ago. Is that what this is about? A stupid fannish crush?!"
"No, it's much more. You're her. I must have you."
"Who?"
Suddenly Paul looked around. Richie came barrelling out of the door. Paul rushed forward and grabbed Elyse, holding his sword to her throat. "You won't stop me," he said. "I'll have her, come what may."
"Who do you think I am, Paul? Who?"
"Marietjie, my first love. You're her."
"Look, my name is Elyse Benjamin. I'm not this... Mary-key, whoever she is."
"Was. I killed her. And now it looks like I'll have to kill you, too." He pushed Elyse to the ground and held the sword to her neck.
"No!" Richie rushed forward.
"Take one false step and she's history."
Richie backed off. Slightly. But he knew, just *knew* that if Elyse died, this man would lose his head.
"I'm not her," repeated Elyse. "I'm not. Can't I prove it to you?"
"You are her." He said it with such a tone that the lovers knew he really did believe it was her. And he was going to kill her - again. "Se vir my dat ons altyd saam sal wees," said Paul.
Elyse merely looked up at him in confusion.
"Asseblief. Se vir my dat jy my lief het. Dat jy dit nie weer sal doen nie."
Richie took a step forward as he saw Paul's sword dropping. "She doesn't know what you're saying," Richie said. "She isn't your girlfriend."
Paul hesitated, and Elyse jumped up. Richie sprang over to shield her. "Run!" he yelled, sword in hand.
Elyse turned to run, but Paul was faster. He dropped the sword and took out a gun. "Ek sal nie toelaat dat jy my los nie!" he shouted, and fired.
Elyse fell to the ground. Richie rushed over to her. "Richie, I..." she began... but didn't finish. Richie felt for a pulse. There was none. He held her and waited, looking with utter hatred at Paul, who smugly looked down at them.
But Elyse didn't move.
"You lied. Didn't you? It was all a lie. She wasn't Immortal. She was just a girl who looked like someone from your past. ISN'T IT?"
"So I made a mistake," said Paul casually.
"She isn't going to come back." It was a statement.
"Of course not."
Richie grabbed his sword. "You're not going to come back, either."
Paul picked up his sword, stood ready. "We'll see."
The swords clashed. Richie knew he wasn't as experienced, but he relied on his training. He'd defeated Immortals before; he knew he could do it again.
Paul wasn't worried. He'd killed many times. All people were easy to kill. One just had to get at their weak spot. "You loved her, didn't you?" he asked Richie, taunting him.
Richie attacked; Paul parried easily. "You loved her and you thought you'd spend eternity together."
It wasn't true. He had cared, maybe had dreams of spending a few decades together. But she hadn't bought into those dreams; she'd been stubborn and practical. And she'd never forgive Richard Ryan for not sticking to his guns (so to speak) and getting the bad guy.
So the next time when Paul attacked, Richie used a trick Duncan had taught him, and stabbed Paul in the chest. Paul sank to his knees. "You were taught well," he said.
"There can be only one," responded Richie...
***
He found MacLeod at Joe's place. The minute he walked in the door, Duncan knew the outcome. "She's dead."
"Yeah. But so is the other guy."
"You killed him?"
"Damn right. She wouldn't have forgiven me if he'd lived. She would've found a way to haunt me." He attempted a smile.
"Was she Immortal?"
"No. He shot her, Mac. And she died. That's all there was to it."
"Why?"
"He thought she was his long-lost girlfriend. Even when he realised she wasn't, he wouldn't give her up. He killed her simply to stop her from leaving him."
"Mortals and Immortals alike can be crazy," Duncan pointed out. "We have to -- "
"Uh, yeah. Look, I gotta go, okay?" Richie couldn't bear to hear another 'how to survive as an Immortal' pep talk. Not now.
"Sure," MacLeod replied.
Richie left the bar just as Joe came in. "Will he be okay?"
"Sure," said Duncan. "He always knew that something like that would happen. I doubt he thought it would be so soon, however."
"Things are happening quite fast for Richie," Dawson pointed out.
"That they are."
When he got back to his apartment, Richie found *her* sword in his closet. It wasn't as old or as strong as his. But it was enough to remember her by.
THE END