by Deb Cebulski
Disclaimer: The characters of Liam Kincaid, Lili Marquette, Da'an, Mrs. Beckett (who I call Moira), and the UK Companion (who I have named Lo'an) are the property of Roddenberry/Kirschner, Tribune Entertainment, et al. I'm just borrowing them for a wee bit… I have incorporated an encounter between Liam and Siobhan originally presented in Atavus, written by Brian Nelson. The title was taken from a song by U2, available on The Unforgettable Fire.
I have never been to Ireland, so the geographical details listed depend rather heavily on the author's imagination…
This text (with the exceptions noted above) is copyright 1999 by Debra Cebulski. For permission to reprint, please contact the author at
kerowyn@hottub.org
Strandhill, Ireland
Companion Agent Liam Kincaid strode through the camp of the Taelonists, headed for their prayer stone. With the help of Agent Sandoval, he had just completed a successful investigation of the source of a mysterious drug called Bliss. The antidote had been found, saving many lives, including that of his comrade Lili Marquette. Liam saw to it that Lili made it to the hospital and was well on the road to recovery before returning to Strandhill, ostensibly to oversee the mopping-up. Liam knew that the investigation was completed, and that his presence at Strandhill was not required. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was incomplete--something wasn't right. Although Liam couldn't put his finger on what was wrong, he knew deep inside that the answer would be found here.
At the crest of the hill, he spotted a ragged stone circle on top of the next hill. Liam decided to go over and take a look. As he entered the circle, he felt his shaqarava activate. Liam was puzzled—after making his Choice, his shaqarava had been under his control. He looked down—and his eyes widened as a memory invaded his consciousness.
*****Siobhan rummaged in her purse and handed him a small rune stone. "You look like you have a puzzle in you. Maybe this will help."
Liam glanced at the stone. "Raython."
Siobhan looked stunned. "You know runes?"
Liam replied, "The rune of communication. Reunion, tying two sides together."
*****Liam blinked in surprise. His shaqarava slowly extinguished. Liam rubbed his palms, trying to understand what had just happened. Why had his shaqarava activated, and why had he relived that particular memory?
Liam looked away from the Taelonists' camp. He had never seen so many shades of green before coming here—he saw everything from a pale gray-green to a deep forest green to a brilliant emerald green. The view was that of a quiet and peaceful land. Liam breathed deeply and sighed. Now I understand what Mother was fighting for all those years. She was fighting to see this—an Ireland at peace. Was it worth the price she paid? He remembered the look in her eyes as she'd died. Was she at peace? He had not attended Mother's funeral. Sandoval had been chosen to represent the Companion Protectors. Da'an had been willing to excuse Liam from work to attend, but Liam had not asked. Sandoval's suspicions had been raised by Liam's behavior at Siobhan's death. Liam felt that the risk of attending would be too great, so he had chosen to throw himself into his work, accompanying Da'an on a series of courtesy visits that day. Liam knew then why he'd returned to Ireland. He returned to the camp to say his farewells—and to place a call to Da'an.
Da'an readily granted his request for a short personal leave. "I will be on the mothership for the next two days on Synod business." He paused briefly, spreading his fingers. "I hope your vacation will be pleasant." Da'an's tone was slightly sardonic.
Liam smiled, and thanked him. As he slammed his global shut, he thought It's funny how Da'an always chides me for not taking more personal time. I guess he doesn't want me to end up like Sandoval, who never goes off duty if he can help it. Liam grinned and called Lili.
Lili was less thrilled with his vacation plans. "Liam, we have that meeting with Halley on Monday. Are you sure you can't put this off?" Liam shook his head. "I'm really sorry, Lili, but I can't. I'll be beck Sunday afternoon—we'll have plenty of time to prep for the meeting. There's something I need to do." Lili frowned slightly. Liam had the sinking suspicion that she knew what he was up to. She sighed and said, "Do what you have to. Keep in touch." Liam thanked her and signed off.
Liam flew his shuttle to the Belfast Embassy, where he secured a car. Siobhan had been buried in her hometown of Dungannon, a small town an hour's drive from Belfast. Liam adjusted quickly to driving on the left, and made a brief stop along the way to pick up a bouquet of flowers. He parked the car just outside St. Michael's Parish Church.
Liam grasped the flowers and walked into the churchyard. An elderly priest was walking on a graveled path toward him. "Excuse me, Father. Could you tell me where the grave of Siobhan Beckett is?"
The priest turned slightly and pointed to the left. "Do you see that man in the corner? He's Siobhan's uncle, and he's standing right in front of it."
Liam nodded. "Thank you, Father."
The priest smiled. "You're welcome, young man."
Liam followed the path to the very rear of the churchyard and turned left. Siobhan's uncle was standing still, and a woman was kneeling on the ground with a small spade in one gloved hand and a plant in the other. Liam involuntarily swallowed—he knew this woman. He slowly walked up the row.
The man smiled and asked, "Are you lost, son?"
Liam replied, "Kind of. I'm looking for the grave of Siobhan Beckett."
The woman glanced up at him as she placed the plant in a small hole. "Well, you found it, lad. And who might you be?"
Liam smiled nervously. "I'm Liam Kincaid. I was a—friend of Siobhan's."
The woman frowned slightly. "I'm Moira Beckett, Siobhan's mother." She removed her gardening gloves and stood up.
The man strode up. "I'm Sean O'Suilleabhain, Siobhan's uncle."
Liam shook hands with both of them.
"You knew Siobhan? I don't believe she ever mentioned you," Moira said
Liam replied, "I'm the Protector to the North American Companion. I worked with Siobhan a few times, and I—respected her greatly. Unfortunately, my duties kept me from attending her funeral. I'm in Ireland on business, so I thought I would come to pay my respects."
Moira frowned slightly. "In that case, will you come over to the house for tea afterward?"
Liam hesitated a moment. "I would be honored to. What time would you like me to be there?"
Moira glanced at her watch. "We usually have tea at half four. Would that be too soon?"
Liam glanced at his—it was four o'clock. "That would be just fine. How do I get there?"
Sean gave him directions. "We're the last white house on the street here. Take a right as you leave and you can't miss us. There's a sign on the garden gate that says Hillview. We'll leave you to make your peace with Siobhan, then."
Moira packed up her garden tools and gloves into a small basket. Sean helped her up, and they started up the path.
Liam knelt at the grave and placed his flowers next to Moira's plant. After a quick glance to see that Moira and Sean were out of earshot, he whispered, "Oh, Mother. What should I do now?"
Unfortunately, the stone didn't answer. Liam didn't really expect it to. He wasn't even sure what he hoped to accomplish by coming here—he just knew he had to do this. He read the inscription:
Liam tried to think of his mother in life, instead of her empty shell lying beneath him, but it was hard. He loved her, and she was gone. Sure, he had her memories within him, but it just wasn't the same. His memories paled in comparison to the passionate, fiery woman that was his mother. Liam's chest ached as the grief that never fully left him swelled up again. This place only served to remind him of that horrible day in the cave. Once again he relived the hopeless despair as he sat in a pool of his mother's blood and cradled her as she died. As the cool grass began to chill his pant legs, he shuddered, then stood.
He glanced at his watch—it was almost 4:30. Liam sprinted down the path, fleeing from his mother's grave as fast as he could.
Liam saw a piece of paper fluttering under his windshield wiper. He pulled it out and read "Leave your car here—there's no room to park at the house." The note was unsigned, but in a male hand—Sean's, he supposed.
Liam dashed down the road. He found that he didn't really need Sean's directions. It seemed as if he'd walked this street a thousand times. He found himself noting several details that had changed since "he'd" last been here: a broken fence post, a painted flower box, a new birdhouse. He opened Moira's gate and, after rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants, knocked on her door.
Sean opened it. "Ah, Liam. We were just sitting down. Come in!"
Liam thanked him and entered Moira's living room. A tray was set out on a low table before an overstuffed sofa and matching chair. Moira had just entered with a tray of small sandwiches and biscuits. Liam could see that she'd been crying, but although her eyes were swollen, they were fierce. They were the eyes of his mother, and Liam's own eyes filled with unshed tears. She set the tray down and invited him to sit down. Liam and Sean sat on the sofa, while Moira settled into the chair.
Liam was promptly offered "a cuppa", which he accepted gratefully. The warm, milky tea relaxed him, and even seemed to ease his grief for a moment. Moira was polite, but her eyes never left him.
Sean did most of the talking, asking about his work in general, and Da'an in particular. Liam replied honestly that he greatly enjoyed his conversations with Da'an. "Da'an is unlike any other Taelon I've ever met," Liam said.
Sean nodded. "Our Siobhan spoke of nothing but her work for Lo'an, the U.K. Companion, but I don't think she ever said that she simply enjoyed his company." Sean drained his cup in one gulp, and Liam reached for another Hobnob. Sean laughed, "I guess you didn't read the warning on the packet."
Liam stopped in mid-reach. "What warning?"
Sean grinned. "The one that said, 'One nibble and you're nobbled!' " Liam smiled and bit into his Hobnob.
Moira went over to the sideboard and picked up a framed photograph. She brought it back to the chair and looked directly into Liam's eyes. "I've something I'd like you to see," Moira said softly. Liam set his tea down and wiped the chocolate stains from his fingers. Moira handed him the photograph—and he almost dropped it as his own face looked up at him from under the glass.
Liam looked up in shock. "Who is this?"
Moira's eyes captured his attention. "That's my father—Siobhan's grandfather, also called Liam."
Liam examined the picture in more detail. The portrait appeared to have been professionally done, and featured his grandfather in a suit, probably for a wedding of some sort. Liam spotted a few differences between them. His eyes were blue, but his grandfather's were brown. Liam's brown hair was slightly curly; his grandfather's black hair was almost straight. Liam's eyes widened. No wonder Mother's memories of me almost resurfaced the first time we met. She must have seen her father's face in mine.
Liam swallowed. "This is—um, amazing."
Moira nodded. "I thought so myself. What's your ancestry?"
Liam launched into his familiar cover story. "I'm an orphan. My mother had to leave me shortly after I was born. I was raised by others. My mother named me Liam—Kincaid was a surname assigned to me."
Moira's eyebrows lifted. "And your father?"
Liam looked at her. "He's dead."
Moira held out her hands, and Liam gave her the photo. Moira returned it to the sideboard and settled into her chair again. "How old are you, Liam?"
"I'm 31," he replied.
"Then you're old enough to know that it's rude to lie to your elders," she snapped. "I can tell when people are lying to me. Most people tell lies of one sort or another about ten to twenty-five percent of the time. With you it's closer to fifty, maybe sixty, and I want to know why."
Liam's mouth opened, but no sound came out. "I—my mo—Siobhan had the same gift," he stammered.
Moira leaned forward. "Yes, she did—but she didn't flaunt it. You said that you had only worked with her a few times. How did you know that?" She paused. "Were you sleeping with my daughter?"
Liam looked up, startled. "No!"
Moira looked puzzled. "That's a soul-deep truth—it would have been unthinkable for you to do so." She drifted off into silence.
Liam knew that he had to get out of here. This wily old woman was coming far too close to his secrets. He opened his mouth to make his excuses, but Moira stopped him with a glance.
"Liam, tell me—what was your mother's name?"
Sean looked puzzled.
Liam knew that she had him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Moira leaned forward, her eyes fixed on him. "Try me," she said, in a voice edged with steel.
Liam tried again. "I'm telling you, you wouldn't believe me."
Moira said, "I know that's what you think, but I'm telling you to try me."
Liam sighed. "Her name was Siobhan."
Moira looked him in the eye. "Her full name, Liam."
Liam whispered, "Siobhan Mary Beckett."
For one moment, the room was filled with a nearly audible silence. Then the room was filled with Sean's hollow laughter. "Oh my. That was a good one, Liam!"
Moira sat rigidly in her chair. "Sean. He wasn't lying."
Sean's eyes opened wide. "But…but that's not possible! He's 31—our Siobhan was 35 when she passed!"
Liam quietly stated, "I'll be seven months old in three weeks."
Sean glanced at Moira, who nodded.
Sean looked back at Liam. Sean could only get one word out, "How?"
Liam considered a moment. "It'll be a lot easier if I show you. I need both of you to hold out your right hand, like this." Liam held his hand up, palm out and fingers pointing up. He fought his instincts and kept his shaqarava from activating.
Moira and Sean hesitantly did so. Liam touched their palms, sharing with his grandmother and great-uncle the memories of his conception, his birth and growth, Siobhan's forced separation from him, and that fateful day in the Austrian cave, where he found her, only to lose her.
As Liam broke the connection, all three of them were weeping. Sean soon stopped, but Liam and Moira progressed to sobs. As the tears rolled down his face, Liam gasped out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't save her."
Moira kept repeating, "Siobhan. Oh, my Siobhan."
After about 20 minutes of this, Sean took matters into his own hands. He escorted a trembling Moira to her bedroom. Liam sobs subsided. He stayed on the couch, all cried out but too exhausted to move.
Sean returned to the room and sat down next to him. Liam sat there, staring off into space.
Sean spoke up. "Liam, why don't you spend the night here? You're in no shape to drive."
Liam couldn't really contradict Sean's statement. "Are you sure?"
Sean chuckled a little. "I'm sure. We've plenty of room."
Liam yawned, and Sean showed him to the guest room. Liam collapsed onto the bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
*****
The smell of bacon and fresh bread awakened Liam the next morning. Liam stretched and rose, noticing that someone (probably Sean) had thrown a blanket over him. He'd been so exhausted that he'd slept on top of the bedding. After a quick wash, he went downstairs.
Liam made his way to the kitchen and found Sean at the stove, expertly fixing bacon, sausage, fried eggs and fried tomatoes in one huge skillet.
Sean smiled at him and set the tomatoes aside to drain. "Liam! Pull up a chair, lad! I'll have your breakfast in just a minute!"
Liam yawned and poured some tea. "Is Moira up yet?"
Sean frowned slightly. "Yes, and she's gone over to the church. She'll be back shortly."
Sean grabbed an oversized plate from a cabinet and began heaping it with the contents of the skillet. He placed the tomatoes in the center of the plate and cut a slice of soda bread from a steaming loaf. Sean presented the plate to Liam with a flourish. "Here you are!"
Liam gaped at the sheer volume of food Sean had set before him. He thanked Sean, and began to eat.
Sean sat across from Liam and poured himself some tea.
Liam gestured at Sean with his knife and fork and asked, "What about you?"
Sean laughed. "I've already eaten—I was just waiting for you to wake up. As soon as I heard the lavatory tap, I started your breakfast."
Liam ate as much as he could, but a distressing amount of food was left on the plate at the end of the meal. "I'm sorry, but I'm absolutely stuffed," he apologized.
Sean shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'll bring it next door for Mrs. Kelly's dog."
Liam blinked, distracted by a vision of his mother laughing at a roly-poly mixed breed puppy. "Is Colin still alive?"
Sean's eyes widened. "How did you-- Oh. Never mind. Yes, he's almost 15, but still alive—and he still likes his bacon."
Liam looked down. "I'm sorry if I upset you last night."
Sean sighed. The two men sat quietly drinking their tea for a few minutes. After his mug was drained, Sean spoke up.
"I won't deny that what happened last night was—unsettling, to say the least. Parts of what you showed me upset me greatly. I am not a violent man, but you must understand that I have the very strong desire to see Jonathan Doors suffer greatly for what he put you and Siobhan through." Sean poured another cup of tea. "However, I have to say that I am glad that you were there for Siobhan at the end, and that you were able to share her last moments with us."
Liam swallowed the dregs of his tea. "I didn't intend for things to happen like this, but I'm glad I was able to help you." He poured another cup and cradled it in his hands. "What about Moira?"
Sean shook his head and opened his mouth to reply. The back door opened and Moira walked in. Liam looked at his grandmother with some trepidation. Moira frowned slightly as she saw him. She looked directly at Sean.
Sean got up and placed his tea mug in the sink. "I'll see you later, Liam." Liam nodded at Sean as he left.
Moira seemed to be moving at a glacial pace as she hung her jacket, washed her hands, and poured a mug of tea. She took Sean's place and looked Liam right in the eye. Liam swallowed involuntarily.
Moira took a sip of tea. "I have to say that I am very, very glad you were not here for the funeral. I'm having a difficult time with this now—it would have taken me over the edge then." She sighed raggedly. "I met Agent Sandoval at the funeral. I tell you this—he may be one of your fathers, and Siobhan may have had feelings for him, but don't trust him. That man serves his own purposes above all others."
Moira dropped her mug on the table. "I have to be truthful with you, Liam. I—know that you're Siobhan's son, the only grandson I'll ever have. But I don't know if I can give you what you need, what you want. You're part of my Siobhan, part of a man I don't trust at all, and part something I just don't understand." Moira started weeping again, and Liam's throat tensed with anguish.
Moira suddenly rose. "Come with me." She led Liam into the living room, and stopped before a bookcase with glass doors. She opened the doors and removed a large Bible from its stand. Moira carefully placed the book face-down on the table. She opened the back cover of the book and pulled out a fold-out page. "This is an abbreviated version of the lineage of the O'Suilleabhain family going back seven generations." She pulled out a folded paper. "And here is John's lineage, the Beckett side of your heritage." The Beckett paper seemed woefully small. Liam glanced at the last entry:
Moira took a fountain pen from a tray on the sideboard. In a trembling hand, she made an addition to the Beckett sheet:
Liam's jaw dropped. Through her tears, Moira explained, "Niall was your great-grandfather's middle name. I think Siobhan would have liked you to have it. The name Kincaid may have been assigned to you, but never forget you're the last of the Dungannon Becketts."
Liam read over the sheet again. "The last?"
Moira nodded. "On the Beckett side, the only relatives you have are one distant cousin in a home for the aged and John's sister Anne, who became a nun. The O'Suilleabhain side of the family is quite large." Moira added Liam's name to the O'Suilleabhain lineage, and blew on the ink to dry it. She closed the Bible and returned it to its stand. She closed the cabinet door, and released a long shuddering sigh.
Moira slumped at the cabinet, her back to her grandson. "Liam, I—I need some time. By rights you should still be in diapers, and my Siobhan should—" Moira began sobbing. Liam took a tentative step towards her. Moira heard him and shook her head. Her head against the cabinet door, she told him to leave. "Go, Liam. Please, just go."
Tears filled Liam's eyes as left. Luckily, the street was deserted. He ran down the street, and saw someone leaning against his car. It was Sean.
As Liam trudged up the slope to the car, Sean asked "What happened?"
Liam wiped his tears with a hand and told him. "I don't understand. First she tells me that she's not sure she can accept me because of who I am. Then she adds me to the family tree, and then she tells me to leave!"
Sean chuckled a little. "That's Moira for you. You've placed her in a bit of a bind. She knows that you're her grandson. However, she needs to sort out her feelings about your parentage before she can fully allow you into her heart. I tell you this—she's a strong, willful woman, but once she lets you into her heart, she'll be there for you, no matter what."
As Liam heard Sean echo his mother's words to Lili, he sighed. His direct link to Mother's mind had been severed at birth—he had no idea what she had seen to make her say them.
Sean placed a hand on Liam's shoulder. "She's been badly hurt, boy. No parent should have to bury a child. I know that the bond between you and Siobhan made her loss doubly difficult for you, but understand that Siobhan's death affected us all.
"I know you took a big risk by sharing your secret with us. I don't want you to worry—despite everything, you're a member of this family, and we'll do what it takes to keep you safe." Sean opened his arms. Liam fell into them, and Sean gave him a fierce hug.
The two men let go of each other, and Liam opened the car door. "Before you go, I have a gift for you." Sean pulled a little drawstring bag from his pocket.
Liam recognized the bag instantly. "Mother's runes!"
Sean nodded, and placed the bag in Liam's hand. "I think Siobhan would have wanted you to have them."
Liam pulled Raython out and started at it intently for a moment. He smiled and dropped it back into the bag. "Thanks, Uncle Sean."
Sean beamed. "Don't mention it. You'd better leave if you're going to be back in Washington before supper. I've got to get back to the house and calm your Gran down."
Liam closed the car door. As he pulled away, he could see his uncle waving in the rearview mirror. He smiled, and turned his car toward Belfast.
John Patrick Beckett m.
(1953 - 2001) Moira Elizabeth Ni Suilleabhain
(1957 - )Children: Siobhan Mary Beckett
(1977 - 4 A.C.)Grandchildren: Liam Niall Beckett