HOPE...RISING

PART SIX:

He sat alone, supporting his head with his fingertips pressed up under his cheekbones, staring at the large, blank screen in his main control room. Did they think he did not know they were all there, gathered at Terry's woman's house for unsavory purposes? Sid frowned, lowering his eyes from the black screen.  He had no surveillance in the damn place. If he had been anywhere but on the island, he'd have seen to that by now.

The island. His brow tightened and his nostrils flared. He'd buried Brianna there...this time. The Brianna he'd created to be perfect, to match him as his mate. This morning he'd taken the original flesh and blood version back there, burying her beside his creation. She, too, had died on the island, died because of her persistent love for the General. Both of them had. He bent the ball point pen he'd picked up until it snapped in half. It was what he wanted to do to Maximus.

It was what he would do to Maximus. Only not like anyone might expect. No, he had other ways in mind to break the great General of the Felix Legions.

Women. He knew Terry had gone somewhere out into the country today with his woman, just where he was not sure. The man he'd assigned to Terry would pay for that. He knew Caroline was with Maximus. He smiled, his tongue running slowly over his upper teeth. He also knew Rachel was by Cort's side. Once he'd lusted after her flesh, but he'd come to view her as a walking incubator for something vastly superior, some...one...still very small, yet obviously developed into more than merely normal by his clever introduction of the nanobots. Cort he was not interested in breaking. Cort he merely wanted to stomp into the ground and, possibly, grind his foot a little. There was no real pleasure in the thought, not like what he got from his endless contemplation of the slow and painful breaking of the General. It would, he almost idly thought, be amusing to watch Rachel's face at the demise of her husband. But Cort would definitely have to depart the scene, preferably by death, no, certainly by death. Sid needed free access to young Hope's development. Cort had to go. It was simple logic. And it was about time. Past time.

Originally he had thought Cort might be useful in retrieving Maximus since both men were from past eras, but Cort had proven right from the beginning to lack the necessary cooperation, had from the beginning only been interested in the well-being of the General, whom he regarded as a kindred spirit. Too bad the priest had not just died there in the arena in Zucchabar. Well, such blemishes could easily be attended to. And Rachel needed to suffer a bit more. He'd never been able to abide how deeply she loved the man, had never even been able to understand the why of it. It was an unforgivable flaw in her character. She had redeemed herself somewhat, her fertility being her only usefulness to him any more. But now she had produced the child and was, really, of no further use to anyone.

Terry was a thorn in his side. He smiled grimly at his own pun. Terry was always thinking.

Such people needed a good beheading. Perhaps that could be...arranged. He might enjoy consoling Mr. Thorne's bushy redhead. If only she'd keep her mouth shut. She was too vocal in her opinions. Women should know when to be silent. He could not really think of when one should have anything to say. They were mostly silly creatures as a species and belonged between sheets with their legs spread. Brianna had been the only exception to that. Not the sheet scenario...she was wonderful at that...but the not talking one. Brianna had had a brain.

Bud and John were like beetles scurrying through some underground burrow, looking for ways to nibble at his ankles. He'd forgotten why he'd ever retrieved them. He contemplated a lovely scene in which he'd poured gasoline down their burrow and set it aflame. Nothing was left to him any more of his original purposes in retrieving his counterparts. They had never met his expectations, none of them. Their very humanity rendered them basically useless, weak, incapable of greatness. Now all they could do was plot in dark corners. How feeble of them. He didn't know why he even bothered with them, little red ants on a hill that they were. Perhaps

he should retrieve Ben Wade? There was a character who skated above the general mass of life forms beneath him. No, he was still a human and, therefore, inferior. He would not bother with such lack of quality again. He would, though, have to think of something new to entertain himself with. But that would only come after...after he'd finished with Maximus, after he had young Miss Wells in his pocket.

~

Hope declared she was thirsty, so Rachel dug in the baby bag for the child’s cup and walked to the kitchen in a daze, a bit glad to have a few moments to collect her thoughts in private. She stood at the sink with the faucet running, listened to the voices continue in the living room.

After Terry’s announcement had settled in, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or cry. And then there was the residue of shame after the anger she had felt when the tension had been so high among them. Her emotions were having a car-wreck, she decided, and in a car-wreck, one was too busy reacting to compartmentalize and analyze. So what did she feel now that she could step back and think? A great sadness. Frustration. Disorientation…and desperation.

“Last time I saw you looking that upset in a kitchen, you were covered in suds,” came Cort’s voice at the doorway. He had left Hope with Caroline.

She looked down at the faucet and saw that the water had long since filled the small cup and was running out into the sink. Shutting off the water, she raised the glass to her lips, suddenly thirsty herself, and gulped its contents. Her memory wasn’t going back to the castle in Hromada – it was going back to the look on Sid’s face as she stood in the hallway, clutching Hope to her bosom.

She tried to respond to him, but only shook her head, slowly refilled Hope’s cup.

He crossed the room, his boots surprisingly silent on the tile floor, and wrapped his arms tightly about his wife. "He won't get her, darlin'.  He won’t get our baby girl."  Taking the glass from her hand, he set it on the counter. "I...." He'd been about to say something, changed his mind, and just scooped her up in his arms, stepping back enough to sit on one of the high stools. Not another word was said. He simply kissed her, kissed her long, kissed her thoroughly. Then he cocked his head and traced a fingertip down her cheek. "That's why Hope is here. She came out of that. She will always be a part of that. I'm going to make sure of it."

She knew it, knew it like she knew there were stars in the heavens, but hearing him say it was the beam of reassurance she needed at that moment.

“I’m sorry I got angry with you,” she said. “I feel so…shattered. What are we going to do? What are Terry and Dee and Maximus and Caroline going to do?” She found herself shaking her head again, in disbelief as their situation played itself out before her again.

Caroline opened the swinging door to the kitchen. "Sorry to interrupt, guys, but I think you'd better get back in here. Hope...."

"Hope?" Cort interrupted, brushing past Caroline so quickly he almost knocked her over. He strode quickly out into the living room. "Hope, what's...," but stopped when he saw that the adults were all standing and staring at Dee's coffee table where the little girl was busily engaged in doing something. He couldn't see what it was she was doing, so he went around to the side, squatting near the end of the table. It was a short, squarish table with a top made of wooden pieces inlaid in an alternating pattern of dark pecan and light oak. Hope had found a dish of candy mints and was intently placing them on the squares, playing a game of checkers with herself.

"Do you know where she learned to do that?" Caroline said, as she and Rachel arrived behind Cort.

He shook his head mutely. "Little darlin'," he began, trying to keep an anxious edge out of his voice, "what are you doing, sweetie?"

"Checkers," she announced as though it should be patently obvious.

"Um, how do you know how to do that?" he asked, pushing one of the candy pieces with a fingertip.

Hope patiently moved it back to its proper square. "Not Daddy's turn," she announced.

"Right," he agreed, "but where did you learn about checkers?"

She hopped a green mint over three pink ones, smiled, and replied, "TV."

Cort closed his eyes, feeling rather ill. Sid. Sid would be fascinated by this, would want Hope even more.  Oh God!  Something in him then became aware Rachel's hand had moved to his shoulder.

“I’m afraid it’s my fault,” said Deidre, looking nervous.  “I was tempting her to stay in here with us with the candy and we got to talking and before I knew she had the candy all sorted out.”

“Sweetie, let’s put the candy away,” Rachel said, all too conscious of the sugar that was getting spread around on the table. 

"Not done," Hope announced firmly.

Terry’s face was hard-set as he watched the little child deliberately and quite clearly maneuver the color of her choice around to make sweeping captures. 

“We’ve got to get her away from here,” he finally said.

“Where?” Deidre asked, plaintively.

“I don’t know…I don’t know…” Terry was definitely at a loss.

Cort had one hand now clamped over his mouth as though he were trying to keep himself from throwing up. He knew all too well that no place would be far enough.

"St...stand...," he tried to begin, almost gasping in his effort to speak through rising bile. 

"Stand and fight."

"I will stand with you, Cort," Maximus spoke up, his voice deeply grave, "but perhaps it would be best to send Hope and the women to safety."

"There IS no safety, Maximus! I know that. You know that. And if they are some place else, how would we know they are safe, that Sid has not found them there?  I cannot not know Hope and Rachel are safe."  He was standing now, his face stricken, distraught. Turning to Terry, he held both hands out like he was practically pleading with Terry for some answer. "Terry?" he said, his voice breaking again. "Please?"

He didn’t raise his gaze to Cort immediately.  He couldn’t.  Not when he had no more of an idea on how to slip beyond the expanding reach of Sid than the young erstwhile gunslinger.  And Cort’s questions to Maximus were exactly the ones he was thinking, ones that came up violently short of answers.  He felt rather than saw Deidre kneel down by his chair, slip her arm through his and lean against his shoulder.  He responded by leaning back.  They all had people to keep safe.  Where was there a place that Sid could not go?  The world seemed horribly exposed right now.

And there was Maximus and Caroline, the gladiator as much a survivalist and warrior here as he ever was in his film, his love a woman no less determined to fight back.  But they were as vulnerable in their desire to return to normalcy as anyone else.

Split up.  Those were the words that popped into his mind, words that Deidre had voiced earlier, ones that had been unpleasant to consider.  But in watching little Hope, as plump as a cherub and as precious, it was looking to be the one step in any direction they could take, at least for the present.  And once again, it came a lot sooner than he had anticipated.

He decided to raise his head and open his mouth to attempt the vocalization of those words when there was a knock at the door, a hard sharp rap that came from a rather impatient fist.  Caroline stepped to the door and peered out the peep-hole.

“It’s Bud and, I think, John,” she announced and opened it.

“Hey,” the former cop grunted as he stepped swiftly inside, followed by an equally harried John.  “Caroline,” he added, as if rethinking his less than stellar greeting.  “Maximus.  Good to see you.  Rachel, Cort…”

Three of them greeted him in return, but Cort only lifted eyes towards him that were so filled with anguish that even Bud was caught up short.

“We late for the party?” John asked, acerbically.  Rounds of greeting were made as Terry remained where he was, patiently waiting for the report.

“Did you see Sid?” he quietly asked as the newcomers came to stand behind the couch, looking duly ruffled and perplexed, to say the least.

“No.  Believe me, I would have loved to have run into him,” Bud replied.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t.  What I was doing was…tricky…” John said, more evenly.  Both men looked uncomfortable.

“It's all right,” Rachel said.  “We know the plan, or at least part of it.”

"When?"  Cort finally spoke, but only the single word.

Bud caught Terry's gaze, the looks on the faces of the others.  He knew no-win situations well, and there was an unacknowledged understanding between himself, John, and Terry that no matter how well they planned things now, there was an all-too likelihood of someone getting hurt.  Maximus seemed to be thinking the same thing; Cort looked as if he wanted to do the hurting and Bud knew why.

He was about to answer Cort's single question when the baby, little Hope, toddled a bit awkwardly into view, looking up at him with huge eyes.

"Why, hello there, little one," Bud said, squatting in front of the baby. He was not at all used

to her abilities in person and he cocked his head, studying her as she grabbed onto his knee for support. "Look at you."

"Look you," she contradicted. "You look like Daddy. All look like Daddy. Funny mens!"

Cort blew out a breath, trying to regain control in the presence of his daughter's gaze that was passing from face to face around the room. "All mens look like Daddy?" she asked.

"Not all men, no," Bud replied kindly. "Just us."

"And Sid," Cort whispered hotly.

Hope had not been exposed to very many grown men in her short lifetime. Where she lived she mostly just saw her father and Maximus. There had been the doctors here in the city of late, but here she was in a room with five men, all of whom looked remarkably alike but for variations in hair and dress.  Cort scooped her up. "I bet you're getting sleepy by now, right, little darlin'?"

"Not," she protested, but wiped little fists at her eyes.

Cort looked pleadingly at Rachel, beginning to hand the baby to her mother. "Please...darlin'?"

"We can put you in one of the bedrooms upstairs," Deidre said as Rachel took her daughter and began cooing to her "I bet you can’t stay up all night, can you? Not even if I sing to you...?" and the two of them disappeared into the upper level.

"The plot thickens," Terry said, as Bud and John opened their mouths to question.  "Sid’s influence.  You see now the trap we have ourselves in."

"So when do we do it?"  John asked, echoing Cort's sentiment.

"Where's your girlfriend, Lizbet?" Terry countered and began clearing the coffee table, found some extra sheets of printer paper, some pens.  Maximus, Caroline, Cort, Bud, and John gathered around.

"Implementing her part of the plan." John caught Terry by the sleeve.  "You do realize what this all brings down on us, don't you?"

"Is it any better than what Sid would bring down if we do not?"  Maximus interjected

"We don't even know that it will matter when it comes to Sid.  The fucking virus didn't work!"  Bud exclaimed, his voice low.

"It worked," Terry said.  "I...broke it.  Apparently, the disc that contained him, kept him as mere digital information, was made ineffectual by my breaking it in half...which I did thinking it was the best way to keep him from ever coming back.  He's a slimy bastard in more ways than one, that's certain."

"Call Dana, then..."  Bud demanded, visibly upset.

"We can't keep calling her every time we have a problem like this," Terry retorted, but they saw him flinch and knew he had been considering the same thing himself.  "The virus worked, but only long enough to immobilize him for what we really wanted to do, and I managed to find

a way to nullify that."

"Water under the bridge now, Terry," Cort spoke up. "We've got to take action and take it now! I can't have the robot lurking around every corner, waiting to snatch my daughter...or whatever it is he has in mind."

"Cort is right," Maximus said. "We cannot wait on this thing. The longer we delay, the more time it gives Sid to make his plans, to set them in motion." He looked levelly at Terry. "I presume Bud and John have been making...preparations? How soon, Terry, how soon can we destroy NanoCorp?"

"Too right," Terry said, and took a deep breath.  He pulled a piece of paper in front of him and began drawing a diagram of the complex.  "You want to know when?  Tonight, gentlemen.  So we only have a couple of hours...."

"Gentlemen?"  It was Caroline, standing straight and rather stiff in the doorway to the kitchen. "What do you mean by 'gentlemen', Terry, if I might ask? Do you not think the women have as much at stake as any of you males?"

All five men sat back, the same look flashing across their faces like a light-wave.

"Of course we think so," Terry replied, but did not elaborate on that, glancing at Maximus. 

He had no intention of getting the women 'involved' since their entire focus was to place a shield between the women and Sid in the first place, but he knew it was not his place to say so...not until the others at least knew their part in all of this.  And he was not about to get into a 'male/female' discussion, but the division of such was exactly what this came down to.  The faces of Bud, John, and Cort took on a walled-off expression of their own, thinking the same thing.

"I see," Caroline said, her voice low and very soft as she clearly read what their expressions were broadcasting despite Terry's placating words.  Five of them, all with nearly the same faces, all equally masculine, determined to be protective. She knew this was neither the time nor the place to dispute such a united front. "Very well," she nodded, deliberately softening the stance of her body, "I just thought I'd ask. If there's anything I can do in a supportive way, you will let me know...?"

She came all the way into the room, perching on the arm of the chair near Maximus. They could lay their plans, they could, but they would not do it without her knowing just what, when, and where. She smiled, slipping a very female arm around Maximus' shoulders. "You'll be very careful, won't you?" she murmured, though loudly enough for the other four to hear.  It had the sound of surrender to the male will, as though she would be safely on the sidelines, praying for the return of the men from danger. She kept her face composed, gently interested in the diagram, but not...overly. She was, though, committing every detail to memory.

Maximus lay a large hand on her leg. "Thank you," he whispered, relieved by her compliance. "It is of the greatest import to me that you remain safely away from NanoCorp tonight. You understand...?"

She understood perfectly. He was going off where he might get blown up but she was to stay and...wait. Well, she'd never been all that good at waiting.

"Yes, darling, I do," she replied, kissing his temple.

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