11

It took a full day, but Sidney Freedman finally arrived. He felt Radar's presence immediately. It was powerful and unmistakable. The psychiatrist rolled his eyes.

"Wonderful."

As he pulled his gear out from the jeep, he saw Hawkeye gesture to him in front of the VIP tent.

"Hawkeye, I'll stow my gear later. Right now I'd like to attend to Radar. Er--any idea what I was called here for? Colonel Potter was kind of vague on the phone."

"Sidney, you can stow your gear in the Swamp. Radar's using the VIP tent, right now--and maybe for good. You can also stow the act."

Nervous now, Doctor Freedman feigned ignorance.

"Act? Hawkeye, my little traveling-Freud show is strictly a monologue. But I've been working on an act. I'll show it to you later."

"If it involves head-juggling, I'll give it a pass. C'mon, Sidney. I know."

"You know--what? Major Houlihan's bra-size? What?"

Wishing to end the dance, Hawkeye did a dead-on imitation of Connor Macleod.

"Margaret's bra-size? Heh-he-he-heh. I Don't Think So."

Sidney gulped.

"So you know Connor. Small camp, Huh?"

"That aside, Doctor--Radar needs you. He was killed on the way to Seoul. Plus, his clothing came in singed--as though he had gone three rounds with a bolt of lightning."

"His first Quickening? Must've been an accident, to happen so soon. Does he know yet?"

"No. We--were kind of leaving that to you. Sorry, but we had no idea how to even begin to explain....."

Sidney shook his head.

"You did the right thing. Its best if its explained by one of us. Poor kid--he's in for it. By the way----who's 'We'?"

"Well, we in this case happens to be Potter, myself-----and someone else."

Sidney closed his eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Its all right, Hawkeye. I know that Father Mulcahy is my Watcher. Shall we begin?"

"Before we do--I have to ask you something. Is--is Henry alive?"

Sidney sadly shook his head.

"When our bodies are torn apart by an explosion, we die the same as everyone else. We do a lot of things the same as everyone else. I'm sorry. I'd give anything to tell you he made it home."

Hawkeye allowed the false hope to fade.

"Sid, please make this kid feel like he's not a freak. He's scared. Really scared."

Though he did not say it out loud, Sidney felt an inordinate amount of relief that Hawkeye was still his friend, after finding out the truth. Sitting inside the tent was a twitching, nervous wreck named Walter O'Reilly. He didn't even look up.

"Hiya, Doctor Freedman. I felt ya comin, ten miles back."

"Hello yourself, Radar. Care to hear a story?"

"I guess."

"In the year that is currently counted as 4 BC, a wicked King named Herod feared the birth of a new king. To this end, he ordered his soldiers to kill all firstborn males in his kingdom of Judaea."

"I think I heard this one before, sir."

"Yeah, I'm sure you have. Except I have a unique twist to put on that story."

"Yeah? How unique?"

Sidney tilted his head, then laid it all out.

"I was there, Radar. My name then was Soolaimon-Ben-Moshe. I am an Immortal. I am almost 2000 years old. I am not alone. Among my fellow Immortals are the late Colonel Henry Braymore Blake, who was past 1400 when he died, and one Corporal Walter Eugene O'Reilly."

Radar's glassy eyes popped wide open.

"ME? How'd I get to be an Immortal?"

"I could tell you the rules, or I could finish my story about The Slaughter Of The Innocents. You pick."

Walter felt both lost and found.

"You go---and finish your story, Major."

"Ok. Well, Herod's soldiers refused to do so horrible a deed. So he found three men who were more like demons to do it instead. They rode in on horseback, and began killing people, right and left. They were good at what they did. Their leader was a man called Kronos."