TOO  QUICK  TO  DIE

PART NINE:

Dr. Emaline Carr, OB/GYN at the Oak Ridge Hospital Professional Building, sat on a

little stool in the examination room with Rachel and Cort. She was a roundish black

woman with smiling features and a rich voice that set Rachel at ease almost immediately. 

The check up was  routine as  Rachel  updated her on past exams  while they  were in

Montana, but this was the first time that Cort had accompanied her.  The doctor in

Montana was reluctant to do an ultrasound so early in the pregnancy, an old-school

physician who relied more on his many years of experience to judge the pregnancy. 

So today they were going to have their first ultrasound, something she and Cort had

been looking forward to; and Rachel almost got impatient with Dr. Carr as she asked

detailed questions about the various changes and trauma she had suffered. 
 

“It looks as if your leg is coming along nicely,” Dr. Carr observed, as she jotted down

notes about the encounter with the bear and the  subsequent surgery  Rachel had to

undergo to repair damage to muscle and ligament.  “How long ago did this happen?”

Rachel looked down at her leg, which was now only dressed with a light bandage. When

they had returned to the blue house,  she was able to move  around fairly  well without

much pain, as long as she didn’t push herself too fast or stand too long.  But in the last day

or so, it was almost as if the deeper pain were non-existent.  Rachel shrugged at Carr’s comment, thinking how the more recent worries of warping Cort had made her forget

entirely anything to do with her leg.  Carr asked if she could look at the wound.

“It’s doing better than I thought,” she admitted.  “It just itches now more than hurts.”

“You’re a fast healer, then,” the doctor remarked with a smile as she replaced the bandage

and resumed her perusal of the papers she had been filling out.

"May I have a look, too?" Cort asked. He'd seen  her wound just  yesterday  and it had

looked as though it still had a long way to go.  His eyes widened as he bent down to examine

it more closely.  "Did you look at this yourself today, Darlin'?  Sure looks mighty improved

since I last had a look-see.  That's a heap of healing all on your own. Seems like you're doing

just fine without those...," he leaned very close so the doctor wouldn't hear, "bugs." Then

he smiled approvingly at her.

“Well, then, you are just starting your 15^th week of pregnancy, so you should be feeling

some movement,” Carr went on, holding up a chart of the stages of pregnancy for them to

see.  Rachel and Cort grinned at each other, as they had already become familiar with

the stages, but it seemed to seal the moment for the doctor to make her pronouncement. 

“In fact, the skeleton is getting stronger rapidly, so it wont be too much longer before

Junior or Junior-ette starts making their presence known with a good kick or two.  You

will probably become a bit more absent-minded and aware of growing pressure on your

spine as the baby grows and starts to push against the uterus. And,” Carr added, looking

up at the both of them from her rolling perch, “there’s a good chance we’ll be able to

see whether or not it’s a boy or girl.  Would you two like to go down and find out now?”

"Find out? What an amazing thought," Cort sighed as Rachel nodded enthusiastically.  

"Yes, I'd like to find out."

They followed Dr. Carr out of the main office and down the stairwell to the next lower

floor and turned the corner to enter the imaging lab.  In a small private room, there was

an examining table next to some carts loaded with several kinds of bizarre equipment

consisting mostly of knobs, switches and a small screen or two.  Dr. Carr bade Rachel lay

flat on the table again and after pulling back her shirt and uncovering her stomach, began

to pull out items for use while flipping on the machines.  A lab tech came in to help and

before long, Rachel’s stomach had been coated with a special gel and Dr. Carr was rubbing

the rise in her belly with a T-shaped paddle while watching lights blip and flash across the screen.

“The hardest part in this,” Dr. Carr said, laughing somewhat as she paused to catch what

looked like a foot that quickly disappeared, “is getting the baby to cooperate.  Sometimes

I think they know they are having their picture taken and they get camera-shy.”

"Why is it all grey and swirly like that?" Cort asked, completely unable to make sense of anything on the screen.

“Just the color of the imaging.  The ultrasound picks up sound waves and the white color

is the density of the muscle tissue.  Ah!  Here we go…do you see the head and the profile?”

"That bit there? That's the baby's face?"  He stared at the screen, fascinated.  "What's

that?" He pointed at a little thing that seemed to be keeping some sort of rhythm in the

center of its body.

“The heartbeat,” Dr. Carr said, grinning at Cort. “And a healthy little heartbeat at that.”

“Oh look, she’s put her hand to her face!”  Rachel exclaimed and the movement of the

picture showed the faint traces of a hand moving toward the fine point of what could only

be the nose. 

Dr. Carr reached over and snapped another button on the console.  “There, that should be

a fine picture to show the grandparents,” she said.

Cort had gotten lost into the image at the word 'heartbeat.'  He was gone, completely gone,

the world ceasing to exist. All he saw was that tiny little blipping thing on the monitor that

was the heart, the living, beating heart of his child. His hand came out, resting over it. My

God.  His child's...heart.  Tears smarted in his eyes.  He looked then, at Rachel, his mouth slightly open.  "Our baby," he said, his voice rather hoarse. "It's got a...heart."  He stared

at the screen again, then without taking his eyes off it, said, "Doc, can you tell what it is? I

can't call the baby 'it' any more. Not after seeing...not after...this."

“Okay, here we go,” Dr. Carr replied.  She appeared to be enjoying their delight and

wonder.  Swishing the paddle gently into another position before the baby moved once

more, she toggled a couple of more switches to bring the image into sharper focus. “And,"

she breathed,  "you can now call your baby…a girl!”

"She's a girl," Cort said a bit redundantly. "She's a girl." He obviously thought it needed repeating again. "Rachel, she's a...girl!"

Rachel gave him a broad grin.  “I told you!”  She declared with a ring of satisfaction in

her voice.  Turning to Dr. Carr, she asked, “does she look okay to you?  Is everything as

it should be?”

“Hmm?  Oh yeah, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of problems, but I’ll have to take a

look at the other images to be sure.  Let me  get a few more  positions on her…,”  She

circled Rachel’s belly a few more times, taking pictures as the baby wriggled under the

slight pressure of the ultrasound paddle, but stayed in place fairly well while she and

Cort watched in silent wonder.  When Carr finally began to shut down the machines,

there was a slightly abstract look on her face.  “You said you know the time of conception,

right?” 

Rachel nodded, taking Cort’s hand.  “Quite certain,” she replied, remembering the

afternoon of Cort’s returning memory, the unexpected tryst in Mikol’s bedroom.  She

wasn’t going to spell it out for Dr. Carr, but she knew the time quite well.

“Hmmm.  Well, now, there’s always a window of uncertainty, usually by two weeks,” Dr.

Carr hedged.  “And your other doctor placed the baby along at twelve weeks when you

saw him last?  I’m not saying he was wrong, but if my judgment isn’t off, I’d say you were

a bit further along than that.”

 

“How can you tell?”

“The image is a bit clearer than most at 15 weeks, for one, but that’s no real indicator,”

Dr. Carr said.  “Other signs.  If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you were closer to 17.  In fact,

the next time we meet, I’ll be expecting that baby to be kicking the living daylights out

of you.”

Rachel looked at Cort.  Maybe they had been off.   Maybe it was while they were in

‘Gladiator’?  Not voicing this thought, however, Rachel just nodded and decided she

would think about that later. 

When Rachel had re-clothed, Carr gave them the  printouts  of the baby with a follow

up scheduled in a couple of weeks. 

 

“We’ll check in on your girl’s progress then in a couple of weeks,” the doctor said before

they left.  “If you start to feel any pain, you call me immediately!  It's possible false labor

pains can pop up, but if you feel them, you come in and see me, any problem at all.”

"I'll keep a close eye on her, on both hers," Cort smiled, putting his arm around Rachel's shoulders as they left the office.  He didn't seem to be thinking about the timing at all, but

was still absorbed in the fact it was a girl.  "You're pleased?" he asked.  "That it's a girl?

That's ok by you?"

“Okay?  I'm very pleased!  But really, I just want her to be healthy,” Rachel exclaimed, watching his expression closely.  “I would have thought you’d want a boy, though.”

"I'd rather have a little Rachel than a little me," he grinned. He was genuinely pleased,

wanted her to see that in his eyes.

They stood next to the walkway leading away from the professional building, pausing by

a small enclave of landscaping where a bench faced a small open plot of land, a kind of meditation garden for patients to wander while waiting for appointments to end.  Cort led

her to sit down next to him, seeming to want to talk before going back to the house.

“Oh, I don’t know.  I was quite a handful, Cort.  I thought maybe it would be a good thing

to have a sweet little boy for whom I could bake a lot of cookies…of course, I could still do

that for our daughter…”  She paused as she said that  word, feeling a  sudden burst of amazement.  Had she really said ‘our daughter’?  Daughter.  She began laughing.  She

couldn’t help it.

"Girls like cookies...or so I've been told," he offered, then her laughter took him, too. It

was contagious in such a happy moment.

When they had both calmed, he added, "We've been through a lot, you and I, and now we

have her coming to look forward to.  It's so much.  I can't even begin to think...it's just so...much."  There were no words.  He touched her face. "I'm happy, Rachel. YOU make

me  happy."  His hand  dropped to her belly.  "And this, this is more than I could ever

imagine."

Rachel pressed her hand over his as he spread his fingers out over the rise.  She wondered

if he felt the baby move toward their hands. Then she pressed her forehead to his and smiled

up into his eyes.  “Let’s go tell everyone,” she said with a kiss.

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

The weekend was spent dismantling everything they had spent days propping up to put

an end, once and for all, to warping and retrievals.  While Terry and Bud took their

anger and frustration out on the walls, Deidre stayed at her house to make phone calls to

regain the equipment they had loaned out or sold.  They had debated whether or not it

would be feasible to create a countermeasure in the nanoblood,  nanobots  designed to

override the ones Sid created, but Henri argued that could take too much time and anyway,

he’d be loathe to make Cort take it, even if they were solidly sure it would work.  Dialysis

was suggested and attempted, much to Cort’s disgruntlement, but it  became  apparent

rather quickly that would not  work either.  Sid had  manipulated the bots to  replace

whatever was lost as quickly as it was siphoned away;  and where the  original patent

allowed for a die-off and a natural ablution through waste, Sid’s corruption was eerily

like the bots Scully and Mulder had told them about in surviving the body’s processes,

hiding in recesses or simply rebuffing the new blood.  They had to shut the dialysis down

when Cort began showing signs of illness.

As a result, they found themselves at a true dead end.

Which spurred on their decision to reopen the warp lab.  If the battlefield were going to

be in that despicable form, they had best  be ready to use it, Terry  told them.  None of

them liked the thought, absolutely hated it, but it was even more acceptable than doing

what Bud had pointed out: sit around and wait to be picked off, one by one.

Terry tried not to think about the fact that every move they made, every word they said

was highly visible and audible.  There was no ability to disguise anything they did, so it

had to be obvious to Sid what they were going to try and do next.  Which made meeting

at Deidre’s house or the blue house or anywhere but his office imperative now. This desire

to try and shield as much of their actions as possible warred with the desire to keep living

as though Sid didn’t do a damn thing to them.  Terry had dealt with Sid long enough to

know Sid hated not getting attention, hated not having control over everything that went

on in his presence.  What was more, they could not negotiate with a madman.  And Sid

was several madmen in one package.  So the only thing left was to get as much control as

they could over what they could.  Which, again, meant the warp room.

Terry took the ball-peen hammer and slammed it into the remaining segment of sheetrock, sending white flakes and fragments flying.  Bud cast him a wary look of surprise, but said nothing…except more verbal curses at Sid, each one more creative than the last. 

“We have the guys at the back dock pulling your equipment off the trucks,” said John, who

had just arrived and stood at a safe distance watching.  He did this for several long minutes before Bud turned an evil eye upon him.

“Do you mind helping?” He growled.

“Of course not, but you look like you’re doing a fine job by yourself,” John replied affably. 

He pointed to a shattered segment still clinging to the frame at Bud’s foot.  “You missed a

spot.  See?  I helped.”

“Go fuck yourself, you fucking polar bear…” Bud snarled in return and dashed the segment

to pieces.

“Lady in the hall!”  Terry interjected with a laugh as Rachel rounded the corner.  If he

didn’t laugh, he’d start screaming himself.  “Rache, I don’t think you should be down here. 

It's liable to get much nastier the more we…,” he began, but Rachel didn’t seem to be

listening.

“Have any of you seen Cort?  He was going to come help you…left early this morning…”

she began and leaned against the wall.  It was then Terry noticed the size of her stomach. 

Had she grown bigger?  She had not made it to Deidre’s house when they met the other

night because of a low temperature and a general discomfort that everyone took as part

of the pregnancy.  Terry had not seen her until now.

“Rache, luv, what’s wrong?”  He dropped his hammer and rushed to help her sit down on

the floor, which was a bit hard for her to do without the distention of her belly making it

look as if she were trying to squat around a medicine ball.

“I’ve been itching like crazy these last couple of days,” she went on to say, as she proceeded

to scrape her fingernails along her forearms, her legs, and the curve of her belly through

the large shirt she had put on…one of Cort’s shirts, as a matter of fact.  “And the baby is

kicking something fierce!  I called the doctor to see what I could do, but I got the nurse and

she said use cocoa butter, which I can’t stand, and that it was normal.  Do you see how big

I am?” she asked the three men, who were now gathered around her.  “I blew up like…overnight!  I mean, it's been like this the last  few days and all.   I swear I've  outgrown

everything in the last few…and I know this is when the baby is supposed to grow fast, but

this is ridiculous!”  Looking up at them, she repeated her earlier question, this time with

a little more impatience.  “Have you seen Cort?”

“Yeah, he was by just about a half hour ago,” Bud said.  “We sent him down to the dock…

hon, we need to get you to the clinic.”

“No!  Not the clinic,” Rachel argued.  The three men did not argue in return, so Rachel relented.  “Oh, okay, the clinic.  Maybe Henri can give me a better answer than that

stupid nurse…”

“Henri is off on an errand himself, luv,” Terry said. “Here, let us take you down there…”

Rachel caught sight of the huge hole in the hallway where the warp room lay beyond, its

familiar space desolate with abandoned consoles.  She knew they were re-opening it to

restore it to its function and why.  She made a face at it, glaring into its darkness. 

”Stupid nanobots.  I hate you, Sid,” she said with distinct contempt.  “If it hadn’t been for

giving Cort a treatment, we’d be…,”  She cut off  whatever she was going to say  with a

long pause, then drew in a sharp gasp, her blue eyes growing as large as saucers.  Her

hands flew to her belly again.  “Oh, no.  No no no no no…..”

“What?”  All three of them were trying to follow her, but she was pushing through them

to continue her way down the hall.  She was frantic, panicked.  “I gotta find Cort!  Find

Henri!” 

Terry gave John a nod.  “Go with her.  I’ll find the doctor.  Bud, keep clearing the space

for the equipment.  We’re going to work on this all night if we have to.”

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

Sid was amused.  The lab rats were rather cute, especially Bud.  He liked Bud.  Bud got

angry.  It made him fond of the cop.  He grinned broadly when Bud snapped at John,

then turned to a different screen to watch Cort walking down a corridor.  "See you in a

minute, my dusty priestlet."  His attention had been attracted by the fact that Rachel was heading to the clinic.  That should be...interesting.

John kept his arm on Rachel's elbow as they hurried toward the clinic, asking the nurse as

they entered where Henri was.  She looked toward a locked door in the back of the office.

"He's been in there for some time, Mr. Biebe," she replied.  "He said not to disturb him."

"Get him!"

Her eyes widened. "Yes, Sir.  Right  away, Sir."  She  knocked on the door.  "Doctor

Dawson?"  There was no reply so John simply walked to the door and smacked the toe

of his boot into it.

Within seconds there was the sound of a bolt being thrown  and Henri's  face peered

through a crack.  "John? What's up?"

“Drop what it is you’re doing and take a look at Rachel,” John said in a low voice and

stepped aside to bring Rachel into view.

“Henri, we have a problem,” Rachel announced, hoping the doctor would appreciate the

Apollo 13 reference, but the pale color that washed over his face said he took her quite seriously.  Which was just as well.  Because this was serious.

"Oh, Lord," Henri moaned, stepping out of the room and taking her other elbow to lead

her to the nearby examination room.  John remained outside.  "I think we need to do a

blood test...now," he said once the door was closed.

“I called the nurse and all she would tell me is put cocoa butter on it…my skin, I mean,

but I don’t  think she  quite got what  I meant, and all  this morning,  the  baby’s been

punching me, pushing her hand out or a foot.  See?   She’s doing  it now!”  She pushed

aside the shirt to show the doctor.  A definite little foot was in white-pink outline in her

belly.  “Henri, she said…”

“Who, my dear?”  Henri asked as he pulled out the necessary items.  He seemed to be

slightly rattled, but bringing it under control so he would not scare her with the needle. 

“Dr. Carr…she said not to expect this for another couple of weeks, but I feel like I’ve

been pregnant for months now and look at me!  Henri, none of this feels right…”

Quietly, efficiently, he took a small  vial of her blood  then turned quickly to a  large

counter on the side of the lab, his back to Rachel.  In less than a minute he straightened,

but stood there, silent, his head bowed.  Finally he turned, his eyes positively stricken. 

"They're there, Rachel, in your blood.  They're there just as if you'd had a transfusion."

Rachel didn’t say anything for several seconds, biting her lower lip, and Henri turned

a rather sharp look on her.

“How did…?”  He began and stopped.

“Suppose…maybe it was the other night, the night after he got the transfusion?” Rachel

said, trying to phrase it in the best terms possible.  She glanced at the door, wanting to

find Cort.  Where was he?  “Do you think…the nanobots he had…?”

"Yes," Henri nodded. "That has to be it."  He looked at her tummy again. "You need to

go for another sonogram right away, my dear."

“I can’t go back to Dr. Carr now!”  Rachel  whined.  “How am I going  to tell her I’ve

ballooned in a few days what should take weeks?  She said she thought our estimation was

a bit off as far as how many weeks we were along, but I didn’t give it any thought!   I

mean, what’s a couple of weeks?”

"Just as the nanoblood heals things like Cort's arm, " he began, then was side tracked by

a sudden thought. "How are your wounds, Rachel? Are they a lot better?"

“That was the first thing Dr. Carr noticed,” Rachel replied.

"I thought as much," he said, shaking his head at her confirmation. "The nanobots, I'm

afraid, have gone through the placenta and are making your baby develop at a highly-accelerated pace."

“Oh God, Henri, what is this doing to our little girl?”

"Rachel, I don't know what to tell you. This has never happened before...ever. But you do

need a sonogram right away. We've got to check on what's going on with the baby.  It...she...

will have to be monitored very, very carefully." His hands fell limply to his sides.  He felt entirely helpless.  "I just don't know what else we can do."

Rachel slid off the exam table and opened the door.  John was still in the office, talking on

his radio, but he immediately cut off the conversation when she approached him.

“Have you been able to find him?”

“Not yet, but on my way now,” John said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before

striding out of the office. 

The baby gave another kick and moved in a quite obvious swirl to her left. 

“Hold your horses, girl,” Rachel told her, and then realized that the nurse was staring at

her and Henri with suspicion.  “Gas,” she said, meeting the woman’s eyes. 

The nurse only gave her a look and returned to her reports.

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

Cort was in a hurry.  He'd gotten word sent from Terry that Rachel was having some

sort of trouble, was on her way to  the clinic.  The clinic?  Here?  Inside  NanoCorp? 

Damn! Something really had to be up if she were doing that. He hoped Henri were

around. He quickened his pace even more, practically running now.  Rachel and the

baby.  Rachel and the baby.  It was the  litany his heart-beats  made as  he went.  The

baby.  His baby girl. 

Oh, God.  Be all right. Please be all right. Both of you.

He saw the clinic door about fifty feet down the long hallway, saw the door open and

John step into the corridor, his mouth opening to say something when he caught sight

of Cort.  He lifted his right hand in acknowledgement.  Then everything simply dissolved

around him.

ON TO PART 10

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