HOPE...RISING

PART FOUR:

He stood there a long moment, still wearing only the cut-off slacks he'd had on on the island. Sand still clung to him here and there, and the scent of salt water lay on his flesh. Or what passed with him for flesh. This time he'd buried Brianna there, near the large flat rock that served as their sunning place near the inland pond. She had loved that spot, loved him when she was there. He wanted that to be his last gift to her, and to himself, too, so that when he thought of her, he'd know she was there. But he was through with trying to recreate her. No one even knew he had...or could. He had not wanted to bring her back, keep her enshrined as he'd done with her...before. The first time Maximus had killed her. Now he'd done it twice.

His hand gripped the back of his computer chair, tighter and tighter until the metal and padding crumbled. Absently, he let the debris sift to the floor. There was but one thing...one person... occupying his thoughts, a person living happily in the country with the woman who was his beloved. He smiled, grimly, terribly then went to his personal quarters to shower and change into Armani.

Always in their complicated past history, Sid had viewed his dealings with the General as a game, finding them amusing and even pleasurable, no matter how painful they might prove for Maximus himself. There was nothing amusing in his thoughts today. His eyes glittered with deadly intent as he straightened the knot of his silk tie. Checking himself in the large mirror, he noted that he looked perfect. There was, of course, no other way for him to look. The perfection he embodied came as a matter of course with it's own innate beauty of form. One corner of his lips curved slightly at the word 'innate'. He'd never actually been born.

Returning to the main control room of his impenetrable inner complex at NanoCorp, he flipped a few switches and a bank of monitors sprang into life, revealing all the important sections of the compound outside his bunker. Terry was not in his office, nor was Bud in his.  John Biebe he found doing his usual boring security things. He had no interest in that. His eyes moved on down the lines of screens.

 ~

"The blood test? That'll be the only poking thing they'll do to her, right?" Cort asked Terry as he followed him into the central medical section of NanoCorp. He was carrying Hope in his arms, trying hard not to think of his last transfusion in this very section. Henri had still been alive then, but Sid had managed anyway to pollute the blood supply with his bugs.  He remembered the blood had felt warm as it entered his body and an odd restlessness and agitation had grown slowly all through him. He had no way of knowing that the nanobots were spreading throughout his system, nor that he could transfer them to pregnant Rachel merely by loving her. It was then that Hope's development had been so drastically altered, so speeded up it wasn't possible for ordinary medical science to keep up with it, or even understand it. Nothing like it had ever happened to a developing fetus before...ever. No wonder nobody really knew what was going on with Hope, what might yet happen to her. Even if they found she still had the bugs, what good would the knowledge of that do? Hope was bound on some track that none of them could follow.

He hugged her to his chest, kissing her hair as he walked. No matter what Sid had done, she was still bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, the only person in the world he was related to by blood. Blood. That was it, wasn't it? It had all started with blood and now it was coming down to blood again.

Rising up from his thoughts enough to become aware of Rachel walking close on his right, he extended his free arm around her shoulders.  Hope was her blood, her flesh as well. That the

two of them, by loving, had made this wonderful little creature always made him feel so much more connected to this reality outside his movie that he'd come to live in. It grounded him somehow, let him know that he was really here, was really...real...and not just some piece of waylaid celluloid. They were a family, the three of them, and he loved his two women with an utterly fierce gentleness.

“The only thing,” Terry promised, nodding to various people he knew as they went. Deidre, Caroline, and Maximus followed behind Cort and Rachel, and in the waiting area, Deidre decided to sit, knowing she would not have been allowed to go with them. He led the young family to the nurse’s station and after checking on the availability of a Dr. Gillian Benson, parted ways with them.

There was only one stool in the examination room, and Cort offered to let Rachel sit, but she shook her head.  She was as nervous as he was.  She placed Hope on the exam bed and pulled

out Hope’s favorite stuffed horse to play with, standing in front of her to hold her and keep

her amused.  Cort leaned against the bed next to her, arms folded, letting his hair fall to cover his face.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Rachel said, knowing there was little else she could say that would assuage his discomfort.  She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.  The worried lines around his eyes did not disappear, but the hard line of his mouth softened.  “It’ll be over before we know it.”

“Mama kiss!”  Hope demanded, and Rachel did so, moving on to blow air-bubbles on her neck, causing her to shriek with glee.

The door opened and admitted a rather tallish woman, with short cropped dark hair and glasses perched at the end of her long nose, carrying a clipboard and manila folder.  She smiled at the sight of a giggling Hope, seemingly unfazed by the glower of the father and the worried face of the mother.

“She loves that horsie,” Dr. Benson said, after introducing herself, and walking softly to Hope, smiling down at her.  “Does it taste good?”  She asked while Hope chewed on an already tattered ear.

“Good!”  Hope replied, and shook the horsie to emphasize her opinion.  Dr. Benson’s eyebrows lifted somewhat.  She gave a good appearance of seeming unhurried, but Rachel could see her eyes scan the stats on Hope’s chart, and met theirs with the vaguest concern.

“Has she been tested recently?”

“She’s physically well, Dr. Benson,” Rachel began.  “She’s only had the sniffles once since we brought her hope, was barely colicky, if at all, and if she has any allergies, I haven’t been able

to find one…”

“That was a pretty good response from her,” Dr. Benson replied, as if to segue to a new subject, since nothing Rachel said proved her initial thoughts.

"'Ope good 'ponse," Hope said proudly, nodding her head vigorously to emphasize her point. Then she giggled wildly for a minute.

"What's so funny, Hope?" Dr. Benson asked her.

"Eat 'orsie!" she laughed, waving the small, soft animal again. "'Orsie not food!"

"Is Horsie not a real horse?" The doctor was fully engrossed now in what Hope was communicating.

"DadDa 'orsies real."  She looked at her father. "DadDa not eat 'orsies."

"What does Daddy do with his horses, Hope?"

"DadDa wuv 'orsies. 'Orsies make DadDa 'appy."

"Is Daddy happy right now?"

Hope made a sad face. "No. DadDa not. No 'orsies."  She moved her hand to indicate the room.

"So Daddy's not happy because there are no horses here?"

"Not 'appy. DadDa...," she seemed to search for a word, "'ick."

"Daddy's sick?"

"Not 'ick...," she paused and made a very dramatic portrayal of throwing up. "Not."  Then she lightly touched her chest. "'Ick."

Dr. Benson blew out a long breath, patted Hope's knee, and looked seriously from Rachel to Cort. "She's displaying an exceptionally developed sense of emotional awareness. It's like she understands what you're feeling, Mr. Wells. It's...extraordinary."

Cort curved his hand down the back of Hope's head. "Could it be that she's just a smart little girl?"

"Mr. Wells," Dr. Benson pointed out, "Hope is not a little girl. She's a baby."

"'Ope NOT!" came a protesting little voice. "Not say!"

"You don't want me to call  you a baby, Hope?"

Hope locked her gaze on the doctor. "'Ope...old."

Dr. Benson blinked in surprise. "How old are you, Hope?"

"Much old."  She smiled.

"All right," Cort interrupted. "Haven't we gone far enough with that?"

Clearing her throat, Dr. Benson replied, "I'm not at all sure, Mr. Wells, that we've even scratched the surface."

"Well, well, WELL!" Sid said, letting his fingertips rest on the view screen. "Now what have we got ourselves here?"

So the cowpriest and the broompusher had their spawn with them and had come back to his little playground, had they? He kept his fingers on the screen, moving them so they made a semi-circle above Hope's head. "My little project. I'd almost forgotten about you."

In the little medical office, Hope suddenly squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tipped her head down. "Hope!" cried Cort, almost pushing Benson aside so he could put his hands on her shoulders. "Hope? What's the matter, little darlin'?"

She lifted a hand to her head. "Hope sick," she said.

Cort's eyes widened. She'd said 'Hope sick' not ''Ope ick.'  "Oh, God!" he moaned, looking almost wildly about the room. "This place! I knew we should never have brought her into this place!"

Back in his control room, Sid had begun to laugh. So the little spawn sensed his presence. Somehow, his fingers on the screen were affecting her.  What fun! And just when he'd thought he'd have no further interest in games.

"Maybe she's just developed a bit of a headache," Dr. Benson offered, "from the stress of being in the medical department?"

"A headache that gave her 'H's' and 'S's', Doctor?" Cort spat.

Sid laughed again, enjoying Cort's reaction. "You go on, baby girl. Show 'em your stuff!"  Then he paused, thinking. The kid obviously had been greatly affected in utero by his experimental nanobots. He'd concentrated so intensely on Brianna, developing and creating her then seeing to it that she got coated in sand on the beach, that his earlier plan had fallen by his mental wayside. He'd wanted a baby, wanted one to replace his own that the goddamn General had killed, wanted one from the loins of one of his counterparts. And there she sat, practically brought to his very doorstep by her incompetent parents. She was, obviously, way too good to be raised by such idiots. Resurrecting his wife hadn't worked out. Perhaps replacing his child...? There was, though, that other matter he must attend to.

He cocked his head, studying her intently. If she had been created from the seed of the General, he would have had to kill her. But she was from the priestlet, ever one of his favorite toys. He smiled widely in anticipation and moved his hand from the screen.

Hope lifted her head and opened her eyes, blowing out a long breath very much as her father tended to do from time to time. "Better," she said.

Cort was white except for the bit of green around his lips, which were pressed tightly together in an attempt to keep down the bile that was trying to rise burningly up his throat. NanoCorp. They'd brought her here and the place, the damn place itself, had affected her. That dark worry that had crept around inside his mind for some time now had taken on form and substance and was coming boldly into the light. Hope was different.  And being here had just not only emphasized it, but somehow increased it. He turned helpless, pain-filled eyes on Rachel.  What do we do NOW?  they practically shouted in their wordless green depths.

Rachel felt as white as Cort looked, a shudder running through her, the room suddenly spinning.  She'd just wanted answers, just wanted to some sense of control.  She's going too far too fast, was all that ran through her mind.

Rachel put her hand out to the bed to catch herself from reeling, toppling to the ground, scooped up Hope and held her close, turned to the doctor lady who was exhibiting signs of consternation and alarm herself.  She also stood in Rachel's way to the door.

"I think we should leave now," she announced.  She couldn't look at Cort.  She knew he was angry...and he'd told her, he'd told her...

"Wait a moment," the doctor enunciated, her voice low.  "You came for a blood test, right?  I think you should sit down and let us do that at least."

"No," Rachel said, her voice breaking in her tears.  "My husband is right.  This is a mistake.  She...Hope doesn't..."

"Ma'am," Cort said to Dr. Benson in a very deep, deadly firm voice, "you will kindly let my wife and child leave this room...or...."  His face hadn't looked quite like that since the last time he'd looked at Herod...or Sid pretending to be Herod.

"But a blood test would...."

"A blood test is no longer necessary."  He was controlling himself by sheer willpower, a huge exertion of sheer willpower. He knew if he didn't, he'd simply explode and parts of him would splatter here and there about the walls of the examining room. His hand was shaking with the tension in his body as he turned the knob, opening the door for Rachel.

"Hello there," chimed a sickeningly familiar voice. Sid was leaning on the wall directly across the hallway from the door, his chin in his hand as his left elbow propped him against the white panel, one foot crossed over the other, its perfectly-polished toe resting on the floor. "I'm not

too late, am I?"

"How did you get here?" Cort asked, his voice going all hoarse. "You...you were...."

"Incapacitated? Is that what you thought? You and the other hoodlums who tried to best me in your poor excuse for a film."

"But...you were...."

"I was. And damn the lot of you for it. But I'm back. I've been back for some while actually,

only I've been...occupied. Would you care to introduce me to your progeny?"  He fixed his eyes appraisingly on Hope. "Not bad, considering she sprang from such pitiful loins."

"Watch your language, you ugly little robot," Rachel snapped.  She turned Hope so that she faced her chest and pressed her close so Hope wouldn't have to see the smirk on Sid's face.    "And stay away from our daughter."

"Still as pitifully weak as ever, eh, little broompusher," Sid said, his voice low, menacing.

"You...," Cort began, but just then Terry came around the corner, followed closely by the others who had been waiting.

A nurse had come to him as he sat with Deidre, Maximus, and Caroline, catching up on the rest of their news, and quietly whispered that he might want to check in on Cort and Rachel, as she had heard raised voices.  He thought to ask the others to stay, but the glint in Maximus' eye told Terry it would be ignored, so he pretended he didn't notice the three trailing behind.  And of course, not knowing what he would find, the sight of Sid standing in the hallway, facing off a very white-faced Cort and Rachel, with Hope clutching at her mother as if she could not get far away enough from the cybernetic being, was truly a shock indeed.

"What the...?" He grunted as he stopped short and Deidre ran into him, her sharp gasp following as she caught sight of Sid.  "How the hell did you get free?"

Sid's brow knit at the sight of Terrence Thorne, but then he saw the General.

"Mmmmaximussss!" His eyes seemed suddenly lit from within by some intense fire. He turned away from the family by the doorway, his attention immediately riveted by the unexpected presence in the hallway of the very one whom he sought.

"Wait just bloody minute," Terry growled, and stepped in front of Maximus and Caroline.

Sid's focus was on the General, so he simply pushed Terry to one side, using such force that the man slammed backwards into the wall, leaving him dazed, sagging. "You come to me, my General, even before I call."

Maximus had turned somewhat to the side, his right hand going under Terry's arm. "I do not come to you, Sid. I thought never to have to lay eyes on you again."

"But, then, as usual, my Aching Anachronism, you thought wrong."  He held both arms out, turning in a rather runway sort of manner, "As you see.  I am not only here, but am...well. Thank you for asking."

"I did not ask."

"All too true. But then, manners were never your strong suit. You were always more into blood and guts."

"You have no guts, nor even blood," Maximus replied, his lip curling in disgust.

"I did...once. I even had those little wiggly reproductive things of the human male. Surely you remember the results of that?"

"Brianna is gone, Sid. Let her rest in peace."

One side of Sid's mouth curved up in a strange smile. "You have no idea, Maximus, of where Brianna has rested or if she knew peace."

"You speak riddles. Why are you here? How are you here?"

"Why am I here? YOU ask me why I am here?" He looked through half-lidded eyes at the General. "Is it not possible I...missed...your company?"

"It is not possible." Maximus' face was set and hard and he was unaware of Caroline clutching his arm.

"Perhaps, then," Sid purred, "I missed the company of this delicious bit of femininity?"  His gaze settled on Caroline.

"She has nothing to do with what lies between us," Maximus stated coldly.

"Ah, but there you are wrong. It seems to me that she has everything to do with it." He cocked his head, studying her face. "How is it, General, that you stand here with a lovely female while I, alas, am all alone?"

"It is not my doing that Brianna died."

"So say you. But she died because she went to you and she died because she found you at last."

"Riddles again. I have had enough of them."

Sid rested his chin atop one fingertip. "I'm afraid not."

"Not? What 'not'?"

"Not enough riddles. Life is very complex, Maximus. What we do echoes in, what was that you said...eternity?" He cupped a hand around his ear.  "Hear that? Echoes. Clear, distinct echoes." He smiled. "Sometimes the sound waves of echoes can knock us quite off our feet. I'd look to my bootstraps were I you."

He turned his back on Maximus, fixing his eyes on Hope again. "Two projects. Just when I thought I had it narrowed down to one."

Cort made a move as though to grab him, but he slipped nimbly past and into the exam room. When Cort dashed in the door after him, he was simply...gone. As Maximus entered, Cort was pounding the side of his fist on the examination table.

"O my God, O my God!"  Rachel was repeating this to herself as she stood nearby, watching the interplay between Sid and Maximus, edging away from them as far as possible.  Hope still clung to her like a starfish, twisting her head around to watch Sid as well. She felt a coldness drop over her as Sid turned and gave them one last evil look before disappearing into the exam room. Then she could hear Cort cursing as Maximus followed him.  Sid had disappeared, leaving behind a very devastated vacuum.

"Mama...Mama..." Hope cried, trying to get her attention by placing her little palm on her mother's cheek.  "Bad man!  Bad!"

The coldness turned into sweat, and she had to lean against the wall to keep herself from dropping Hope, she was shaking so hard.

Terry was on his feet again by now, trying not to lean on Deidre, his sea green eyes glittering with a fury Rachel had rarely seen.

Caroline, too, was almost dazed by the look Sid had given Maximus. What had he meant by 'echoes'? He must still blame Maximus that Brianna had drowned and their child had died as well. 'Knock us off our feet'?  That was a threat, very thinly veiled. Oh, Lord...Sid was planning some revenge. And the baby.  He'd seen Hope, was obviously interested in her. Where was Maximus? She needed to see him! She ran into the exam room, finding him with one hand on

Cort's shoulder.

"We need to go!" she cried. "All of us! We need to get out of here!"

"I doubt there is any place one can go, Caroline, to avoid Sid," Maximus said, his voice oddly calm.

"There has to be some...."

"There isn't, Caroline," Cort snapped. "He always knows...always."  He turned, not finding Rachel in the room. Was she alone in the hall with the baby?

"RACHEL!" he called out, pushing past the others in the small room.

She was leaning against the wall, shaking so hard he didn't know how she was managing to hold onto Hope.  "Here, darlin'," he said, taking their daughter from her arms, holding her in the crook of his left arm, using his free hand to touch Rachel's face. Her skin was almost clammy and concern for her wiped all else momentarily from his thoughts. "Come," he urged, leading her a bit further down the hall to where there was a small grouping of chairs. He was afraid she might faint and he couldn't catch her with Hope in his arms.

Hope, meanwhile, had locked her arms around her father's neck and was holding on for dear life, her little round face buried against his neck. He clenched his teeth.  Both of his women.  Damn Sid to hell!! How had he gotten out of the movie? As he guided Rachel down to one of the chairs, his eyes found Terry walking unsteadily toward them, shaking his head as though to clear it.

"HOW?" Cort exploded. "How did he get here? What happened? I thought he was supposed to be locked forever in The Quick and the Dead."

"He was," Terry said, not really seeing Cort, not really seeing anything right now.  Deidre took his arm in hers, but he could barely acknowledge that as well; all he could see was Sid's triumphant look when he rounded the corner and locked eyes with him.  "He was...."

What could have happened?

"Maybe that vaccine had a shelf life..." Deidre posited weakly.  "I can call Dana...maybe it didn't really work..."

"No."  Terry said.  "There's no time for that."  It had all been so certain, so secured.  What could have broken through?  Surely Sid wasn't that strong...?

"Terry," Rachel said, looking up, her shaking under some control now, but still pale.  She gripped Cort's hand, to steady him, to steady herself.  "Where's the disk he's supposed to be in?  What did you do with it?"

This time it was Terry who had to sit down, who couldn't speak for several moments as a wave of nauseous realization swept over him.

"In his desk but..." Deidre began, and her eyes grew wide as she began to realize the same thing Terry did.

"I broke it," Terry moaned, seeing clearly his own hands hold the movie up in triumph and snap the silver disk in half.  "Oh, fuck...I did it..."

No one said a word and the silence hung heavy, suffocating almost, in the hallway. It was as though every person there were trying to get their head around the significance of Terry's words. The DVD had been broken. At first thought, it would seem that should have sealed Sid in place forever, that, after that, he would never be free...ever. Obviously, it had had the opposite result.

Finally Maximus spoke, voicing what all of them were wondering. "When?"

"That day.  When we all returned," Terry replied.  "It...seemed the thing to do, when it was over.  I snapped it in half because I didn't want there to be any possibility of someone playing it.  No temptation, no chance of someone causing mischief.  No chance of mistake or forgetting.  Damn it!"  Terry exploded himself, startling them all.  "I should have known!  I should have remembered: never take Sid for granted!"

"You couldn't have known, hon," Deidre soothed. "Who thinks about a program escaping when we break one of those stupid things?"

"The virus worked, though," Rachel said.  "I saw it.  We all did.  It worked.  Didn't it?"

Cort had set Hope in Rachel's lap and was facing the wall, his forehead leaning against it. The gates of hell had opened and the Devil wanted his child. His hands were clenched into tight fists. It was too...big. There was nothing to say. Words would mean he'd grasped it. This was beyond words.

"Something happened to him there in the saloon," Caroline said. "We all saw him collapse, saw him change...shut down. I guess it just...." She, too, was at a loss for words.

Maximus had been rubbing his hand across his chin. Now he looked at Terry. "He has been free all this while, then? Where has he been? Have you had any sign of him here? Wouldn't he come back here?"

"Old Sidster is a clever spider," Terry said, wearily.  "If he's been free of the disk since I broke it, then he's been biding his time, as always.  And I think we can guess where he's been this whole time...in his fortress of solitude."

"He said he's been occupied," Rachel said, still in a dream state of shock.  It was upsetting her

to see Cort leaning against the wall, utterly speechless, but she felt devastated, too, and couldn't move.  She knew he was frozen by the same fear she was: Sid had his hooks in Hope, and they had no defense against it.  "That could mean anything though," she added, softly.

Cort turned, looking at her silently, knowing all too well what Sid's being occupied until now might mean for them.

Terry's own thoughts were churning, diverging into thoughts he had long since dismissed, but apparently only filed away instead of forgotten: radical circumstances called for radical solutions.  But hell if they had any time for it now!

"Should I call Bud or John?"  Deidre asked, searching his face.

Terry thought a moment then gave one brief nod.  He glanced at Nolia to find tears had formed in her eyes.  She knew what he was thinking. 

“But…”

"There’s no time for it, luv," he said, gently, meaningfully.  "No time.  And there had to have been a sign to tell us this was coming.  I just can't think of it right now.  So…"

Kissing him full on the lips, Deidre nodded, too, and hurried away.  She knew what he meant and she would deliver the message personally.

Maximus' mind was busy. Sid had been free from the movie for 8 months now. Eight whole months. It wasn't like him not to let the rest of them know he'd gotten loose, if for no other reason than to discomfit them. Why now? That was the question. What had happened that changed things enough for Sid that he would decide to make his presence known...now?

Terry took a deep breath, turned back to his friends.  Employees conducted themselves around, unaware of what had just gone done.  Dr. Benson had disappeared, probably to lick wounds over the confrontation, or resign.  It was just as well, he thought.

"Never thought I'd say this again, but it's time for a retreat.  We'll have to meet at our house," he said, and looked at them hoping they wouldn't demand that he specify his reasons why.  He gazed over at Cort, whose darkened expression told him volumes.  Terry swallowed.  He wouldn't blame the younger man if he hated him, but if he could convince Cort to stick with him for the next few hours....

"Cort," he began, and the gunslinger looked up from his wife and daughter.  "Do you trust me?"

Cort was silent a moment, a jaw muscle moving reflexively, every bit of his face tense. "Terry, I think," his gaze shifted briefly to Maximus, "we're all in this together. We sink together or we swim together. Bottom line. My instinct was to take my family and disappear." He shrugged slightly. "But I know that won't work. Not with Sid. It just won't work. So, yeah, I trust you. You know him better than any of the rest of us. Let's go to your place. I'd like to hear what you have to say. And I want to get Rachel and Hope away from this building...now."

"I agree," Maximus said, reaching for Caroline's hand. "It is time to leave this place."

ON TO PART 5

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