TOO QUICK TO DIE

By Jo Anzalone & Friend

The direct continuation of Montana Crosswinds, X-Proof, and In the Time of Fog

Friend writing Rachel, Terry, Dee, Bud, John Biebe

Jo writing Cort, Maximus, Caroline, Sid, Henri

PART ONE:

"It's really all right, Son? That we left Montana so quickly?"

Dr. Henri D'Ausson, better known by Cort as Henry Dawson, studied his 'adoptive' son's profile as the airport limo Terry had arranged for them pulled up the curving drive through the pines.

Cort just gave him  an  affectionate  pat on  the leg, his  eyes  focused on  the  blue Victorian house with the big white porch that was just coming into view. Maybe because he was so used

any more to his entire life changing within moments, leaving Montana had  not  turned  out to be quite as big a  deal for him as he would have imagined. Just days ago  he'd been mending fence line, mucking stalls, feeding chickens on the Holcomb's farm nestled at the foothills  of the  Bridger mountain  range north of Bozeman.  Then, when he  and Henri had been out in a field on horseback, the grizzly had come.  Rachel had been alone in her little Secret Garden by the creek. As long as he lived he'd never forget the sound of her screams as he pounded toward her with nothing but a hunting knife as a weapon.

He looked down at his lap where her little hand was enfolded in his.  She was carrying their child.  He was still somehow amazed that should be so.  But what that had meant was there were two of them that day the bear had come.  No, leaving Montana had not been hard  after that.  She'd protested that she'd be  fine back at the little Peacefield ranch. She was a woman of undoubted courage.  He knew that well from  all they  had been through together. But it was him. He was the one who knew that whenever he had to ride out to some more distant section of the land to tend to all the things that needed tending, the one who knew that his eyes would be constantly straining back to the small ranch house, constantly wondering if she were all right.

The place was just so damn far from anywhere else.  At first, it was what he liked best about it.  He could almost be back in the 1880's there what with the wide open skies, the horses and cattle,

the lack of any modern noises or smells.  That had been glorious.  But that had ceased to matter the day the bear had come and Rachel was all alone.

Thank God Henri had been there that day. Cort's arm had been raked full length by the bear's long claws and he would never have been able to get her help in time, not if Henri had not been

there.  That  was another  reason they'd come back to the blue house NanoCorp owned. Healing.  He had deep wounds that ran from shoulder to wrist on his left arm,  Rachel's back and calf had been mangled, and they both would be left terribly scarred were the special technologies of NanoCorp not taken advantage of.

As it was late afternoon when the limo pulled up in front of the house, they wouldn't be going in to the medical facilities until the next day. Now...well, now it was time for him and Rachel to

be quietly back in the gentle blue house with its surrounding tall pines. He smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze as he thought of the night they had first made love in the protective shelter of these very trees.

"Dee said she'd give a call a little later this evening, to see how we’re getting along," Rachel told the two men sitting with her, even though her eyes had been fixed on the little blue cottage, wondering how she'd feel about seeing it again.  The limo had slipped  out  into  the  sunshine from the  lane  of  elms  and sycamores that surrounded the NanoCorp complex and slid right back under shade when they turned into the more private section of the woods that were dominated by the tall massive pine trees.  She felt Cort squeeze her hand and she glanced up

at him, catching the look he gave her, and smiled.  He was  remembering the same thing.

What he could not possibly remember, however, was the sheer panic and fear she had been under the last time she was in the little blue house that Sid and Terry had set up for their newest

retrieval, Cort.  No, she had only hinted at the morning that she and Dee flew like desperados to the house to gather up her things and prepare  for  her trip  to  the Czech Republic,  had  only

mentioned the moment when she had run into their bedroom with their clothes strewn about as though it had only been a few hours, and not weeks, since she and Cort had...well, enjoyed each  other's  company  there.  Had only  casually  mentioned finding  his shirt  and clinging to it as  though it were the last artifact of their love to ever exist in the world. 

She blinked and found that the blue house could now be seen in between the tall russet- colored spires of pine, found herself smiling again.  Instead of painful memories, she flashed to the

evening she and Cort went dancing.  Had it really been only six months ago?  God, it felt like another era entirely!  They had both been so raw then, and so eager to please and comfort each

other.  That feeling had been transformed now into something much deeper and richer, people that the Rachel of a year ago would not recognize, someone that Cort would never imagine

himself to be.  Now here she was again, with Cort at her side as her husband and carrying his child. 

Her other hand went unconsciously to the rounded bulge of her belly, wanting to reassure herself of the life underneath her palm.  She was well into showing now, a fact that pleased her more than she could say; was also baffled by it sometimes.  She was having to learn whole new ways of moving around and sitting, finding that things she used to take for granted were new challenges.

Actually, the growth of the baby wasn't what gave her the most problem; it was the leg that had  been  bitten  and mauled by the bear. The plastic surgeon had done an exceptional job reconnecting torn muscle.  It was the deep puncture wounds of the bear's teeth that had caused the most worry, with a potential for deep infection always a threat until the wounds healed completely. But even with the therapy she was under to rehabilitate ligament and muscle, she found that her leg was weaker and more prone to giving out.  It would be some time, she knew, before she could find out just how extensive the injury was - not until she was able to get out on the gym floor and wield her rapier again would she know the cost of the bear attack. 

It  had  been  Henri who urged  them to  return to  NanoCorp and  seek the  healing  properties of  the nanoblood, the remarkable blood developed by NanoCorp as a therapy and back up supply for hospitals and military units, blood that contained specifically programmed nanobots that  accelerated healing  and recovery.  Rachel had been reluctant, very reluctant, not the least among her  reasons being  the  idea of  nanoblood  encountering her   developing baby; that and being very aware of the issues that had plagued the company as well as Terry and Deidre from the time they got back from their stint in "Gladiator." It had been disconcerting enough to hear that the blood supply had been tainted, but when they learned of how Terry broke his arm and

why he himself did not use the nanoblood for his recovery, her first reaction to Henri's suggestion had been adamantly opposed. 

Cort, however...it anguished her to see that his arm had been mauled as well.  Unless they  used the nanoblood,  he'd have trouble using it to the extent that he was used to - and knowing the once-deadly quick reflexes would be slowed - that bit into Rachel's heart with vicious regret.  Well, no time for regrets, she knew.  Only solutions.  And Terry had reassured them not too long ago that the supply had been thoroughly checked and production restored.  Rachel was still very nervous about the whole  situation,  but since  both Terry  and  Henri  sounded confident, she felt she could trust them.  And if there were a possibility of Cort getting full use of his arm back, she'd go with it.  But something instinctive told her not to mess with the miracle that was already forming under her heart.

The house grew closer and its blue walls and white gingerbread looked so happy to her, she found herself blinking back tears.  Cort had loved the ranch, but this place, where they had first

come together...this place was always where her heart secretly escaped.  And now they were back.

As the limo came to a halt, Cort stepped out, standing quietly a moment, just looking at the house, the setting, contrasting it with his bare, stone room in the high tower of Mikol's castle in the Czech Republik.  He remembered sitting on the white railing in the dusk, waiting for Rachel to come. This had been the first place he'd lived in this new world, this new time he'd been thrust into after his retrieval from The Quick and the Dead. Yes, there was definitely a sense of "home" somehow about the place.  But that was due more to Rachel than the place itself.  She carried 'home' with her. 

So very much had happened since he'd last seen this place, since he'd left it that day months ago to enter Sid's warp that would take him,  Rachel, Terry and  Dee into Gladiator.  Gladiator.

Damn! He realized he hadn't thought of Maximus for several days.  But being back here on the grounds of Emerald City there was no way not to think of his older counterpart.  Sid, damn his blackened heart, had simply disappeared with the General the moment of their arrival back here.  Sid himself, he had been told, had returned, but there was no word yet on what he'd done with Maximus.  That was another of the many reasons he'd agreed to return to Emerald City.  He intended to find out what Sid was up to.  He didn't speak of that much, but it loomed largely in his mind.  Maximus.  Maximus, who had been ripped from his time by Sid just as he himself had been. Maximus who would be lost in this time, this place, more removed from all he knew than even Cort was.  Maximus who had no Rachel to comfort him, to give him a new sense of belonging, of home.

He felt Rachel's light touch on his arm and turned to hand her out of the car, then leaned back in enough to speak to Henri.

"We'll  see  you  around 10  in  the morning, ok?   Glad your apartment  is so close, Dad.   I've gotten used to having you around, you know."

"Ten," Henri repeated, smiling at the young couple standing side by side. How glad he was that they were here, were together, were...alive.  Cort had been trying to run the ranch in Montana

all alone, was wearing himself out. It had been way too soon after his concussion during the time of the attempted robbery of the inn where they'd spent their honeymoon,  way too soon for him to take on such a vast, unending work load.  And Rachel, with a difficult pregnancy, needed to be closer to medical care. Yes, he was very glad they had agreed to come back with him to Emerald City.

Cort waved as the limo pulled away then turned, looking down at the face of his wife. "We're home, Mrs. Wells," he said softly. "We're home."

...................................................................................................................................

Sid sat alone in his hidden control room, clicking and reclicking the tip of a black ballpoint pen as he stared at a blank monitor.  So, the little priest and his broom-pusher wife were returning

today, eh?  He smiled slightly, his lids partially lowering.

He still couldn't believe the incompetent little retriever had gone into Mikol's headquarters all alone and managed to come out with the cowpoke in tow.  She'd never performed anything he'd

ever asked her to do that efficiently. He frowned deeply. It was, he  knew,  because she  loved Cort,  loved  the  ever-wounded preacher-man. He understood about that now. He wished he

didn't, but he did and there was no going back to the days...before. No going back to before he knew what it felt like to have a woman look at him with her heart in her eyes, no way not to

know what her hand sliding down his thigh did to him.  No way not to remember that incredible rise in his heart, his whole being, when she told him she was carrying his child.  And now Rachel

was back, and she was carrying Cort's child.

He threw the pen across the room then swiped his hand over his desk, sending papers, folders, notebooks scattered to the floor.  Maximus. It was all his fault, his doing. He had taken everything away, everything.  She, his Brianna, had died, had died with his child within her, because she could not resist the need to go to Maximus one last time. But even as she lay dying, crushed and broken from the surf flinging her onto the rocks of the headland, even then her last thoughts had been a request that he not leave Maximus alone on the island, that he warp him back to modern times.  She had said that the General was dying.  He himself had not gone to check on the man before warping him back into 2007.  He had not cared, not then, if Maximus were alive or dead, only that he was...away, out of his sight.

He closed his eyes, taken for a moment back to that time when he'd knelt beside Brianna's body in the wet sand, his hands resting on her belly where he knew his tiny baby was dying.  He'd never felt so entirely helpless in his existence.  He intended never to feel that way again.  Ever.  It was why when he'd warped himself back here he'd been willing to endure the pain of undoing what he'd spent uncounted millions to accomplish.  The Maximus chip, garnered with such care while Maximus was his prisoner in the so-called 'palace' had resulted in way more than he'd ever planned.  When he'd inserted it into himself the effect had been much like a caterpillar entering a cocoon and developing into a butterfly.  Only it had...hurt.  Agony heaped upon agony during the process of it. But he had come out of it with all of Maximus' memories up until that point by the heated bath pool. He'd thought that would be the extent of it, that he would know all that Maximus knew, be skilled in all that the General was. But on the island his very bodily form had changed and he had become entirely...human. He needed sleep, food. He grew bodily hair.  He...sweated. And Brianna had fallen in love with him.

He understood  from the  beginning that much of that was because Maximus himself had rejected her.  He'd made sure of that, made sure the General knew that she was his employee all

along, that she knew they were not in Rome, that she knew what Sid had  been  up to.  But  then he had  become just as much Maximus as  Maximus was and she had turned  to him, had

actually loved him.

He wondered vaguely what had become of the General after that last warp.  He'd set the controls so that Maximus would appear somewhere in a rural area about two hours out from Emerald City, hoping that the man would just be cooperative enough to die enroute or shortly thereafter.  He had no way to track him any more.  He'd smashed his fist through the computer that handled that.

Sid was back to his old self again now.  His face distorted at the recall of what that had taken.  He'd thought inserting the chip was all the agony possible.  He had been wrong. The undoing

of that had been...monstrous.  Every single cell in his body that had become flesh imploded, one by one, their cellular structure collapsing as they were replaced by his original form.  It had

been a long process.  He did not wish to think upon it.

No, he would think upon Cort and Rachel now, he who was so loved, she whose belly swelled with his seed.  He'd heard the tales of the scoring of Cort's skull by the robber's bullet, of the killing of the grizzly with merely a knife.  The man always seemed to survive, always seemed to be...loved. His face darkened. It was not...right.

He had been playing little games with Terry, Bud, and John since his return.  They had managed to breach his walls and make it into an outer section of his hidden compound.    No

matter.  There was nothing important in the area they had entered.  And now he'd secured that again.  The fools actually thought they could gain control when his back was turned. He smiled.  They had no idea, none at all, of the technologies that lay behind his titanium walls.   And while he'd been...gone...they had been incompetent enough to let the Feds in, to jeopardize the portions of NanoCorp that they were aware of.  He chuckled. They tried so hard to be autonomous, to think they had some say in matters.  Did they not realize they only existed in this real world because he had taken the time to see that they did?  Did they not know they were nothing more than his playthings?

For a while he'd lost sight of that. For a while all he'd wanted was to love and be loved by Brianna.  But no more.  Maximus had taken her from him and so he had removed every trace of

Maximus from himself. He was back, fully back, and they were all just going to have to deal with it.

...................................................................................................................................................

The last bolt fit smoothly into the last hole made for it in the panel covering the door of the warp-room, a white sheet of sturdy gypsum that would be covered up with plaster and paint. 

Terry ran his hand over its surface, feeling as if that were not enough, would never be enough, but pressing the flesh of his palm to its surface anyway, as if to help seal the dreadful room

by sheer force of will. 

They had closed down the warp, dismantled the computers, erased every bit they could think of to make the warp a thing of the past. And the wall had been the final word on the matter.  For all anyone would ever know, from now on, there was just a wall in the corridor that people would assume was part of a section belonging to some other department.  No one would ever

know that it was a room of unbelievable technology, unbelievable hurt. 

“There, if I so much as see another computer disk with the call numbers of the warp room on it, I’m going to take it and shove it down their throats, with vinegar,” muttered Bud, coming up

to stand beside him, to look at the blank wall before them.  He’d been at the other end of the panel, fastening in the last bolts there.  “Now we make it bright and shiny and forget about it,” he added, with a grin.

Terry returned the grin, but only by half.  He should have done this much, much sooner, when they first got back from ‘Gladiator.’

No. Back when he had been pulled. That’s when things all started to get beyond him, when he should have confronted Sid, once and for all.  But then, he’d have never pulled Bud, or John, or even Dino; or gone off to Peru to try and get away, to find some peace somewhere, some sense of independence from the horror that was Sid.  Would never have  found  an  infuriated  Southern  belle tangled up in a strange South American thorn bush and have never invited her back to NanoCorp.  Would never have sent Rachel off to yet another movie and later realized that there

was hope for what they were doing. 

“You gonna go up and get changed so we can welcome Cort and Rachel?”  Bud continued to ask.  He was pleased as punch that the two were returning to Emerald City, pleased that two

people he considered dear friends would be within an eye’s watch, having spent so much of his time now separate from any influence on what was happening.  He’d hated being left behind

for the Gladiator excursion, hated being on the sidelines of late.  Terry knew Bud felt that with Cort and Rachel’s return, things would go back to the way they were, with the added bonus of

never warping again, or dealing with Sid.

That was why the entire warp room was being sealed up; well, one of the many outstanding reasons, at any rate.  They had spent a good amount of time after the Federal agents, Fox

Mulder and Dana Scully, had left actually enjoying a sense of purpose and freedom, without the pall of Sid lurking about, threatening  new  mischief.   Sid  had  disappeared  within moments after retrieving Maximus; and while their worry over what had happened to the gladiator still nagged, the four of them, he, John, Bud and Deidre, realized they should make do with the time they had, while Sid was preoccupied. Take control, he had told Deidre.  Sid had to be stopped.  But even while this was understood, they all became so happily used to the lack of Sid 6.7, so inured to the idea that he wasn’t making his presence known, that it had taken a rude shock to bring purposes back into focus.  Out of the blue, while he and Deidre sat conferring over plans to take a trip to Montana to visit Cort and Rachel, Sid’s bluish  face  popped  up on  the monitor on his desk  and hissed news of his return.

That was two weeks ago, and since that time, he and Bud and John had been scrambling like mad to think of every means possible to shut down Sid’s ability to make a physical return.  If Sid wanted to stay shut up in his little spider-hole, that was fine.  They had sealed off that access a long time ago.  But now they dismantled the only warp room they had access to and destroyed what technology they thought could be resurrected in the hopes that there would never have to be another retrieval again.

Never again, Terry swore to the white sheetrock in front of him. 

“Yeah, mate, I need to do that,” he replied, absently, pocketing his hammer in the tool belt around his waist.  “Need to find Deidre, too.  Last I saw her, she was on about something to do

with a gift basket.”

“Good.  She’ll have more sense of what to get them than I will.  I was near to getting them just a bag of potato chips and dip.”

“I’m sure Cort would have loved just a bag of chocolate chip cookies,” Terry said, as they picked up their tools.  They’d have some other staff come in to lay the plaster and paint the next day. 

“For a failed debutante, as she puts it, Deidre gets ideas in her head about proper presentation that make me wonder if she wasn’t cut out for society after all.”

“Aw, shut up, man.  You love the way she fusses over you,” Bud groused. 

“You should have seen what she tried to make me eat the other night…” Terry began, as they started back down the hall toward the elevators. It was approaching the closing hour for the business office and secretaries, project managers and other clerical staff were rushing about to deliver final reports and papers before the end of the day. 

Bud’s cell phone rang.“They just turned out of the airport and will be home in fifteen

minutes.  See ya later!” Bud announced and turned to walk briskly to his office at the far end of the complex. 

Terry knew he should speed up the stairwell instead of wait until the elevator opened, but his mind seemed to want to slow down, wanted his body to take long cautious steps back to his office. A nagging feeling had been with him all day, despite the happiness of their friends’ return.  Maybe it had to do with the fact that Cort and Rachel’s own happiness at finding a place to live in Montana had been severely marred by wild nature; maybe it had to do with the fact that despite the assurances of the medical laboratories, and even Henry Dawson’s meticulous watchfulness while he was here, the idea of using the nanoblood now gave him

pause for thought. 

He shrugged off this feeling as he stepped into the lounge area of the fourth floor, where his secretary greeted him with a good-bye for the day.  Another turn and he could see the door to his office standing wide open and hear music playing on the stereo.  Deidre was back from delivering the gift basket and probably pacing the floor to hear from Cort and Rachel.

Maybe he had done all he could and just needed to pay attention to the nicer things of life.  Like Nolia.

.................................................................................................................

Rachel climbed the steps slowly, taking in everything. Because it was owned by NanoCorp, nothing had been left unkempt or unmanaged, with the azalea bushes trimmed and the porches

swept.  Even the hanging baskets looked as though they had been well taken care of.  But the azalea blooms were long gone now, and the heat of summer well entrenched.  Cicadas were making their slow rattle and a mockingbird flew into the yard, cocking its head to check out the intruders.  Apparently she had claimed the house as her territory.

They were met with an immaculately kept room and a very large cellophane basket of goodies, along with a bottle of sparkling apple cider.  Rachel laughed as she picked up the note that stood propped next to it.

“Its from Terry, Dee, Bud, and John,” she called out, as Cort took their belongings into the back room.  She looked at the contents: crackers, summer sausage, cheese, nuts, cookies; all manner of goodies to tide them over until they got settled in.  She then stepped into the kitchen and found the refrigerator filled with more goods.  A post-it on the door of the freezer also showed signs

of their friends’ thoughtfulness.

“I think they’re all glad we’re here,” she told Cort as he came back into the room.  She showed him the basket.  “Weren’t theysweet?”

"Oooo," he said, poking his fingers through the cellophane and coming out with a cookie.  He took a large bite. "It's good," he said, "but not as good as the ones you make."  He did muchly

prefer his cookies warm and soft from the oven.

"Come," he said, going to the couch and patting the seat beside him. "Tell me what you're thinking, what you're really feeling about being back here."

"Like I've traveled a winding road that had far too many bumps and bridges and I am back to where it all began.  Good.  I feel very good," she replied, settling into the overstuffed cushions and tucking into the now familiar crook of his arm.  Her hands felt the piping on the edges of the couch - she remembered how a certain night began, a sleeping Cort stretched out, a dim room,

air charged with  anticipation.   She smiled up at him again.  "How about you?"

"Pretty good," he replied, playing with her fingers. "Being here again  with you, with  both  of you,"  he  lightly  touched her rounding belly, "I think it's the right thing for us now. More'n

anything I want to see that you and the baby are taken care of. Most important thing there is."  He looked around the room. "And I've got good memories here."  He grinned, patting the

couch.  "Especially here. Oh, and...there." He pointed toward the bedroom. "And out there." He nodded toward the main door. "Figure we can make some more along the way. Just so's

I'm with you, everything's ok."

"Mmmmm, I do remember, yes," she grinned.  She fell silent, resting her head so that she could stare at his profile, enjoy the quiet moment.  The clock on the white painted mantel clicked

away, as steady as everything else about this place.  It occurred to her that in this moment, in this house, they were, at last, just the two of them.  No Henri nearby, although God bless him,

she'd never resent his presence; no friends hovering, no staff down the hall or right outside, no feeling as if they were always just beyond someone's reach.  Even in Montana, they were living

on borrowed space.  Here in this house, though, she had felt Cort's company entirely hers, without interruption, without condition.   She didn't think she  could  voice that without

sounding petulant or ungrateful, but in soaking up the sweet odors and surroundings of the blue cottage, Rachel knew that moments like this were precious, indeed; especially with a baby

on  the  way.   She put  her hand  up on  his chest, where it belonged.  Tucked away.

ON TO PART 2

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