LOST IN THE EMPIRE

PART 16

Stepping into the Baths of Trajan was a bit like stepping into a water-nymph’s domain, a reef lifted up and encapsulated in cool stone and brick  Deidre and Rachel were at first hesitant to step into the sub-aqueous world of steam, oils, sweat, and echoes; but the soprano voices of women rose and fell throughout the various chambers like the undulations of waves.  Waves, indeed, for several pools were built throughout the large complex, each in their own chambers, with their own climate.  They made quick work of finding the natatio, a room of the temperate warmth.  Steam and atmosphere relaxed them to the point where they were adding to the echoes with their own laughter and comments.  Eventually, they made their way to the large general pool, paying for a large platter of fruits and other delectables to enjoy while hovering at the edge.  The communal space was comfortably filled with other women in various states of undress, none of them completely mother-naked.  She and Rachel tried to maintain polite distances from the others, but it was often hard to avoid their attention, curious as they were to meet faces that had never been there before  Deidre put on her best game face and played along with passing chit-chat while Rachel leaned against the edge of the pool, quietly observing. 

“Easy to forget oneself here,” Deidre said to her when it looked to the others that they would provide no further entertainment than how they paddled through the water.  “You mind if we walk through the place before we go back to the boys?  I’m itching to see what this place is like intact.”  She was leaning out from the water to study part of the mosaics on the floor when she turned to find Rachel staring hard at an point across the pool from them, her dark brows furrowed.  A stuffed grape leaf was on the verge of falling out of her hand into the water.

“What?”

Rachel tried to point without being obvious.

“Do you see that woman there, about to get in?  The blonde one right next to that pillar…that one!  Doesn’t she look…?”  Rachel trailed off as Deidre cut in with her own exclamation.

“That lady in Zucchabar!  O my God!  She’s followed us!”

“She must have escaped, or was brought here, or something.”  Rachel muttered, extracting the fatal dolmades from the water in front of her.  She turned to grip the side of the pool as the two of them tried to make themselves small against the cold stone.  To Deidre’s annoyance, Rachel began drumming her fingers impatiently on the stone ledge, casting glances over her shoulder.  Her thoughts were written all over her face: a need for a weapon to defend themselves if things got bad.  With a tiny growl, Deidre clapped her hand over her friend’s to stop the fingers.

“Rachel.”

“What?”

“We’re in a public bath.  She’s as defenseless as we are.”

“Thank you, Miss Obvious!”   Rachel replied and tucked her hands into the water with a slight grimace  Deidre blew off her sarcasm.  The two of them had developed a rapport in their travels that sometimes mystified the men, but essentially got out their own frustrations with little or no scratches to mar the way.  Rachel was not as quick with words as she was with the sword, but she was precise.

“So what do we do, Jedi Serious?  If we’re gonna have it out, best to claim the field before she does,” Deidre suggested, pretending to examine the bent light reflected off the water onto the portico above them.

Rachel bit her lower lip, reaching for another dolmades.

“I want to know…”

“Yeah, me, too.  Lets go.”  Deidre interrupted and grabbed Rachel’s arm to drag her out into the waters.  They made a beeline for the blonde woman now sitting on the opposite ledge, dangling her lower legs into the swashing water, looking for all the world like she was on the alert as well.

“No, wait!”  Rachel hissed, but Deidre ignored her, navigating around a small gaggle of women gossiping in the center of their pathway.

The blonde woman saw them instantly, and for several seconds they all froze, staring at each other in guarded curiosity.  Deidre swore relief swept across the fine features of the woman, but none of them said a word, until Deidre decided to finish the contact.

“Hello!”  She called out, grinning brightly.  “We’ve not met before, but we have seen you.  Weren’t you the lady who tried to make off with a couple of gladiators a while back?”

“Careful!”  Rachel grumbled in Deidre’s direction, but pushed through the waters herself, as if afraid the woman would take off before she was able to get in a few shots of her own.  “Funny how we’ve all found a focal point here, isn’t it?” she asked the blonde directly, her body aligned in an unconscious position of en guarde.  “I wouldn’t suggest leaping into the waters, though.  Only a few feet deep,” she added, her blue eyes snapping.

Deidre stared at her younger companion, eyebrows rising.

“There’s no need to be rude,” she nudged, and then turned to shrug at the blonde.  “Rachel here is a bit testy, since one of those gladiators was her fiancé.  You understand if we take this whole situation a bit more personal than we should.”

The blonde woman’s expression was mostly passive, a stone face that watched the two of them with some degree of loftiness, but her own surprise couldn’t be contained and flashed across her face in flickers of amusement when Deidre mentioned the men.

“Nice interplay of Good Cop-Bad Cop,” the woman said, her voice a pleasant alto.  She didn’t move to enter the waters, just folded her arms and continued to study them with intense blue-gray eyes. “White’s training, I suppose.”

Deidre and Rachel looked at each other and drew deep breaths.

“How do you know us?”  Rachel asked while Deidre tumbled over her words with “How did you get here and why are you following us?”

“I might have a story or two that would interest you, but this isn’t exactly the time or place for it, is it?”  The woman asked, beckoning them closer.  She leaned down to whisper conspiratorially.  “I don’t have much time.  May I insist that we go elsewhere?”

Deidre looked at her for a few moments longer, weighing the possibilities.  Either this woman was sincere or part of a plan to strike at their team once and for all.  She felt her eyes narrow in skepticism.

“Look, I have questions as well, questions only you and Thorne can answer,” the woman went on, her tone almost pleading.  “And since we all saw what happened in Zucchabar, I don’t need to tell you that there’s more at stake than a gladiator or two.”

Rachel moved closer until she was looking up into their new friend’s eyes.

“What’s your name?”  she asked.

“Brianna Lachliel,” the woman said, matching Rachel’s stare; then, straightened up.  She gave them both a wan smile.  “And I no longer work for Mikol.” 

^ & ^ & ^ & ^& ^ & ^&^

"You're sure they'll be all right? On their own like that, I mean?" Cort asked as he and Terry watched the two women disappear into the entrance of the baths.

Terry grinned. "How much can happen naked in a huge pool?"

When Cort's mouth dropped open a bit, he wished he'd phrased that a bit differently. But what he did was clap Cort affectionately on his shoulder and add, "Don't worry. I'm sure it'll be all right."

Cort lifted his head, squinting at the sun. "Going to be hot today," he commented. "Better get started soon."

"I figure Sid's got himself a place not too far from the arena," Terry stated, "but in a nicer area than...," and he jerked his head back the way they'd come from their own lodging.

"You think he'd actually help us?" Cort remarked doubtfully.

Terry ran a hand across his chin as his eyes roamed ahead down the narrow, crowded street. "Not sure," he admitted, shaking his head. "Maybe...maybe not. Depends on what he wants."

"What do you think he wants?"

Terry paused, sighing. "Maximus. That I know. Why...I don't know. But what I'm hoping is he wants us, too. You and me."  He frowned, thinking, as he studied Cort. "But Dimetri...that guy gave me the definite impression he wanted...you, mate. Even more than Maximus. I have no idea what that was all about."

"Well, at least he's out of the picture," Cort replied, then the two of them laughed when the double meaning of his words hit them at the same time.

For the next hour they walked through the area Terry thought most likely Sid would be staying in, but caught no sight of him. "Let's head back toward the gladiator quarters," Cort suggested. "Maybe he's decided to go there."

In fact, at that very moment Sid stood pressed close to a high wall, watching the General from about 50 feet away. Maximus was standing near the bars, both hands curled tightly around the metal.  He seemed to be studying his hands and Sid observed his face intently. Maximus' fingers squeezed so tightly that his knuckles stood out white against his tan. Then he leaned forward so that his forehead was cradled between two of the bars, and closed his eyes, remaining silently in that position for several moments.  Finally he stepped back, releasing his grip on the bars and looking down at his palms, wet with sweat. Cort and Terry rounded the corner just as the General slowly wiped both hands across the blue material covering his outer thighs.

"There!" Cort hissed, inclining his head toward the wall where Sid was still engrossed in his study of the Roman.

Sid turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps, moved slightly as though to leave, then decided to stand his ground.  "Good day, gentlemen," he smiled, not showing his teeth. "I see all roads do lead to Rome...eventually."

"Evidently yours has," Terry replied, his eyes grim. "How long?"

"How long is the road?" Sid asked, inclining his head slightly.

"How long have you been in the movie?" Terry corrected, his voice low, almost hoarse.

"Long enough," Sid said, his eyes seeking the General once more.

Cort and Terry turned, following his gaze. Maximus had stepped up to the bars again and was staring at the three of them.

"Shit!" Terry exploded.

"Indeed, my good K&R agent," Sid agreed. "A most defecatory situation." He cocked one eyebrow dramatically. "What DO you suggest we do?"

Terry gripped Sid's robe, pulling him out of sight behind the wall, closely followed by Cort. "You KNOW him seeing the three of us will jeopardize the retrieval!" he spat.

Sid pried the fold of his robe out of Terry's fingers. "Retrieval?  With what, my good man, do you intend to retrieve...anyone?"

Terry's lips tensed in a tight square around his clenched teeth.  "You...," he began, but stopped when he felt Cort's hand firm on his arm. Sighing deeply, he reined in his anger.

"You've come for Maximus?" he asked, controlling his voice.

Sid smiled. "To clean up your mess, yes."

Terry's eye twitched. "It was a malfunction in the warp core. You know that."

Sid bobbled his head a bit. "Whatever."

Terry closed his eyes briefly, licking his lip. "What about my team?" he asked as he slowly raised his lids.

Sid feigned surprise. "Team? You apply the word to your little group of bunglers?"

Blowing out a long breath, Terry squared his shoulders.  "Do you intend to take us back...when you go...do you intend to take us, too?"

Sid grinned annoyingly. "Intentions are often subject to the vagaries of the moment." He looked at Cort. "Do you not find it so, Preacher?"

Cort was remembering his first sight of Sid, there in the dark outside the shed near Redemption when Rachel had just discovered her warp shell was smashed. What he had felt at that moment, that this man was Rachel's boss, that this man was the reason she had come for him...all of it flooded back through him and he pressed his lips tightly together, unable to speak as he fought off a wave of great darkness.

Sid read Cort's eyes and chuckled. The sound of it made Cort's vision go red with his own blood and his hand unconsciously reached for the handle of a holstered gun. The movement made Sid laugh aloud. "How...cute!" he exclaimed.

Cort lifted his foot to step toward Sid, but Terry quickly placed himself between them. "Not now!" he said sharply, then focused on Sid. "Will you come with us...back to where we're staying...so we can talk? Will you do that much?"

Sid wrinkled his brow as though his response required much thought. 

"Please," Terry added, though saying the word made his bile rise.

"Well," Sid replied, "since you ask so nicely." He cocked his head, studying Cort. "But do control your pit bull. Without his pretty white collar, the fellow seems to have lost all his... couth."

^ & ^ & ^ & ^ & ^

Compared to Deidre, who was a slip of a girl with the glorious mane of auburn hair to give her a much more encompassing presence (but was actually only a few inches taller than Rachel), the newcomer to their travails towered like a Valkyrie over the both of them, her long blonde hair loosened now after they all redressed in the antechambers of the bath.  They didn’t speak much to each other of past events in the echoing chambers, although Brianna was quick to inform them of where she had been staying and how urgent it was that she not tarry long in meeting with Terry and Cort.  But it didn’t take long for her or Deidre to figure out that Brianna’s own background held the mystery she said it would, especially the long scar that ran down the left side of her back. 

Appeared to be trained like a Valkyrie as well, Rachel noted with dismay, realizing she was the runt of the three, her head scarcely brushing the level of Brianna’s shoulders.  Brianna had “chops” as some slang would phrase it, with formed muscles and the cautious ease that strangely reminded her of Terry.  Not to mention long legs, Rachel fumed, wishing her own petite size didn’t accentuate that advantage.  Only Deidre seemed to be able to keep up, and it was becoming real work to keep up as she and Brianna marched ahead of Rachel, through the streets back to their rooms in the subura.  Rachel herself, in her determination to keep up, several near collisions with various persons in the stone lined avenues, some accidental, some not so accidental at all, and most of them walking in a rhythm that seemed to take advantage of every opportunity Rachel had in catching up to the other two girls.  When she finally did, Rachel was on the verge of giving up and sitting down on the curb until Cort or Terry came to rescue her.

“Why was Sid not with you at the games?” she heard the Valkyrie ask.  Deidre stopped in her tracks, turning to Rachel with a wide-eyed look.  Rachel could only look back with a look of surprise of her own.  “You weren’t deliberately separated?”  Brianna asked, jumping to conclusions at the silent exchange. 

“Since yesterday, I’m beginning to wonder if it has been deliberate,” Deidre answered cryptically.

“Things haven’t exactly gone as planned since we first stepped into the warp,” Rachel added.  “Sid appears to have had his own agenda planned out and didn’t give us all the details until we found ourselves in the middle of a war zone in Germania.”  Despite having been swimming in water for a couple of hours, she was beginning to get thirsty again and found herself casting her gaze about for a vender to buy something to drink.

Brianna nodded, lost in thought for a few moments.

“I wondered, too,” she confessed in a low voice.  “Dimetri and I followed since nearly the beginning.”

At the mention of Dimetri’s name, Rachel felt her skin, now damp with sweat rather than water, become clammy, and her face drain.  Why did she feel that way every time that awful man’s name was mentioned?  The anger of fighting him in the saloon in Redemption still clung to her, it would seem. 

“For how long?”  Deidre snapped and Brianna opened her mouth to answer, but Rachel cut them both off.

“Not here.  We’re just a few minutes away, and I’m sure Terry is going to make you tell the whole thing all over again.”

“Damn it, it’s been hard enough bumbling around in the movie,” Deidre began muttering as they turned to make good on Rachel’s suggestion.  “I mean, we knew we were being followed…we knew that after Zucchabar, but we…”

“You have seen Dimetri before,” Brianna asked, almost casual, markedly slower in her pace now to allow Rachel to walk beside her.  She glanced down at the dark-haired girl, blue eyes glinting. 

“Oh yeah,” Rachel breathed.  They found the street their residence was on and the three of them turned into it to find it a bit quieter than the main subura passage.  “I’ve seen him before.  You, however, we did not expect.”  Rachel squared off, unable to contain herself until the entire group was collected.  “I asked you this before: how do you know who we are, and why haven’t you returned to Dimetri or Mikol or whoever it is you work for?”

Brianna shook her head, more rueful than wishing to put her off.

“Things haven’t gone exactly as planned for me, either,” she said.  “But if you must know the truth, Mikol warned us Terry would bring his team, knew that what your plans were.  In short?  You have a mole amongst you, but I think you realize that by now.  Dimetri showed up in Cort’s movie, didn’t he?”

Rachel nodded, hoping Brianna could see just how livid she still was over that.

“Even I didn’t know Mikol would…or at least, I didn’t figure it out until…”  Brianna trailed off, looking up the street as if lost in thought.  “The day is waning, and I’m sure the men are wondering what’s taking you so long.  We’d best get this over with.”

“I’d best go in first,” Deidre said when they reached the hall of their rooms, and without any further mention, slipped beyond the tapestry that covered the entrance to the room she shared with Terry.

“Oh, my God!”  They heard her gasp and Rachel shoved Brianna into the room with her as they charged through the covering, both of them stumbling to right their balance.  Deidre was standing with her hands over her mouth, frozen.

Rachel felt like doing other things with hands…like wrapping her fingers around the sinuous neck of the smirking man opposite her and squeezing until the blue nano-juice ran like rivers out his ears and nose.  Until he begged her for mercy…

^ & ^ & ^ & ^ & ^ & ^

Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but Terry stepped quickly forward, putting one hand on her shoulder,  the other to his lips. "Wait, Rachel, wait till we're out of this mess, ok?"  He glanced quickly across the room at Sid. "There's a lot at stake here. As much as I hate to say it," he lowered his voice even more, "we need him."

He could feel her small form trembling with rage under his hand and was glad when Cort came up and with a sweet smile, held out his hand toward her. Terry stepped back and Rachel melted into Cort's arms. "I hate him!" she said, her voice muffled against Cort's chest. He looked over the top of her head at Sid, then, his lips in her hair, whispered, "I know."

Cort had not spent much time around Sid, and every bit of what he had, had been...unpleasant. As he studied the nanotech now, something in his core rose up, a wave of discomfort that they looked so much alike.  He could understand how their common source could make Maximus, yes, and even Bud and Terry, both of whom were honorable men.  From what he'd heard of John Biebe, he was like that, too.  But Sid? How had HE come out of their source?

Sid's voice came from across the small room. "I see that being lost in the Empire hasn't dampened your libido, Rachel dear."

Cort felt Rachel's body stiffen and he tightened his arms around her. "I've got you, Rachel. Don't let him get to you. It's what he wants. Don't give him that."

Brianna stood in the doorway, looking carefully around the room at the men. Seeing the three of them in such close proximity was...interesting. Her eyes kept going from one to the other then back again, coming to rest at last on Sid's face.  His lids were half lowered and he was staring at her, his expression unreadable.

Finally his lips curved into the semblance of a smile and he purred, "And to what do we owe the honor of YOUR presence, your Vikingness?  Were you not supposed to be otherwise engaged scrubbing pots in Nubia?"

She stood there, backlit by the sun from the hallway, her golden hair haloed by the light. Her eyes narrowed at his words and her fingers twitched, itching for her longbow. Sid saw and understood. God, but the woman was nothing less than magnificent! Too bad she was in the employ of his rival. Or was it? He cocked his head slightly. Perhaps, after all, Nubia would have been a waste of her...talents? It would seem someone in Rome agreed with that. He had noted the quality of her gown.

As she said nothing in reply, he continued. "Become a concubine, have we now?" He walked up to her, lifting a long lock of her hair in his hand, leaning forward to smell it. "An occupation for which you are well suited," he dropped the lock, "wouldn't you say?"

Terry watched them, impressed with Brianna's level of self-control. She reminded him of someone as she stood there, her dignity wrapped silently about her like a mantle, her face composed, stoic.  Ah, yes!  Of course!  Maximus.  She reminded him of the General.

Sid took two steps back, his eyes boring into hers.  "Why are you here, Brianna? I am not yet...entertained."

Her mind raced. She had wanted to talk with Terry, not Sid. Her eyes left Sid's, flickering briefly over to Terry's.  He caught the glance, feeling almost startled at seeing the entreaty in it. He had been puzzled enough by the fact that she'd come with Diedre and Rachel.  What the hell was going on anyway?

Stepping forward himself, he touched Sid's arm.  "Back off a bit, Sid," he said brusquely. "Give her some space."  Making a gesture with his hand, he invited Brianna into the room.

"No, thank you," she replied, maintaining her stance in the doorway. "I haven't long.  I must return before my absence is noticed."

"Your lord and master's bed getting cold, eh?" Sid remarked.

Terry whirled on him. "That's not getting us anywhere, Sid!" he snapped, irritated. 

Diedre came up beside Terry.  "We met her in the baths, Terry," she explained, ignoring Sid's eye rolls at the thought.  "Just start at the beginning," she encouraged the other woman.

Brianna took in a deep breath, holding it a long moment then slowly letting it out before she began to talk.  "As you know, I was sent into Gladiator along with Dimetri Zoloft to retrieve Maximus."  She eyed Sid appraisingly. "He knew how much you wanted this particular... person," she said directly to him.

"How?" Sid asked,  his lip curling slightly.  "How could he know that?"

"He has an agent in NanoCorp. I don't know who, but he was well informed."

Sid's nostrils flared tightly and his mouth squared in distaste.  Terry spoke quickly. "We'll tend to the spy when we get back, Sid. Let her speak."

"My job," Brianna continued, "was to ensure the General's retrieval. I was led to believe that the mission centered entirely on that particular goal.  But...,"  She paused, looking at Cort.

"Go on…tell them," Rachel said.

"But it seems Dimetri had been given...other...instructions."

"Other instructions," Terry repeated. 

"Him."  Brianna nodded toward Cort.  "I became suspicious when time after time Dimetri's attention focused more on him than on Maximus."  She sighed.  "Finally, in the arena in Zucchabar, it became evident."  Her eyes found Terry's.  "Mikol wants Cort."

Terry's teeth clamped together, even though this was no surprise.  Had he not said so himself this morning?  "Can you…will you tell us why?"

She shook her head.  "I have no idea.  It was a matter dealt with only between him and Dimetri.  Maximus...alone...was always my assignment."  Turning her head again to where Cort stood, his arm about Rachel's shoulders, she studied him a moment, shook her head once more and repeated, "I have no idea."

"If he wants me," Cort asked softly, "why would he send you after Maximus?"

Brianna smiled wryly.  "Because of him."  She nodded at Sid.  "Because...he...wants the General."

Sid growled, his eyes glinting fiercely.  "You will never get him, Brianna!" he spat.  "I'll kill you myself first."

"I'm no longer trying to...get...him, Sid," Brianna explained calmly.  "I have no way of doing that.  None at all.  I lost my warp shell in the arena in Zucchabar."  She lowered her lids slightly before continuing.  "Dimetri is gone...where, how I do not know...and Mikol has abandoned me to my fate."  She looked at Terry.  "I am no longer a threat to you, to your mission."

^ & ^ & ^ & ^  & ^

“Dimetri was retrieved by Mikol, or so it appeared,” Terry replied, giving one last glare at Sid before closing the distance on Brianna.  “When we were in Zucchabar.  We had him bound, but Mikol obviously has the means to pull you out whenever he chooses.”  For some odd reason, Rachel and Deidre turned fierce glares of their own on Sid, who chose to examine his fingernails.  “But first I think you need to explain how it was that you ended up this far.  Last we saw, you were hauled off to the pens.  It didn’t take long to figure out that you lost the ability to warp out, but we figured you were retrieved along with Dimetri.  And we knew Mikol had been unsuccessful because Maximus remained in the circumstance he was supposed to be.  Yet, here you are, stranded as we are…or so you say.  Forgive us if we are a bit suspicious of your reappearance.”

“Dimetri made sure we only had one warp shell.  The plan was for me to insert myself at one point or another, although I would have chosen a far less dramatic way of doing it,” Brianna replied, with a sigh, her shoulders slumping somewhat in defeat.  “I was anticipating three of us to go back, not four, and when I saw Mikol chained to Cort…well, let’s just say that I was forced to go along with what Dimetri set up.  I certainly didn’t plan for him to infiltrate the games there in Zucchabar.  After that…” Brianna trailed off, her eyes settling back on Sid, who met her gaze with an expression of smugness that made her wish she still had her crossbow.

“Suffice it to say,” she continued, “the fact that Dimetri has been pulled and I haven’t means only one thing: Mikol has left me stranded.  Since that time, I’ve made my own way here, in ways that were advantageous to me.” Brianna finished.  Sid giggled.

For a moment, it seemed as if Rachel would launch herself at Sid, but it was Deidre who turned on the nanocreature with a growl of outrage and Terry had to put out an arm to prevent her from taking one of her utensils and throwing it as a weapon.

“I said, we’ll deal with your part in this in a minute,” Terry intoned with ominous coldness to Sid, pulling Deidre to his side.  Turning back to Brianna, he asked, “how did you know where to find us?”

“I saw you at the games yesterday.  Saw Sid as well, and concluded that either the five of you had positions staked out at the Colosseum and were planning something of your own or,” she paused for effect, “there was a chance that you, Terry, and your team had found yourselves in the same situation I had.  Considering what Sid went through to send me into slavery, the second situation was more likely.  I followed you when you left the Colosseum, but that obviously didn’t work.  Still, it was a matter of deduction.  I decided to seek you out with the time I had left, as best I could.”

“And the baths?”  Deidre asked.

“Almost by accident, really,” Brianna replied.  “I was planning to set out from there and just walk the streets of the subura, but there you two were.” 

“I’m glad you saw us,” Rachel said.  Cort’s lips were pressed together, skepticism of his own still playing on his face.

“You’ll have to pardon me,” Brianna cut in when she saw Terry open his mouth to ask more questions.  “I am very late in returning to the place where I have established some semblance of security, at least until I am able to figure out what to do next, and I think you understand that even in the background of a movie, things go on that are part of that world, even if they have no direct bearing.  I need to go if I’m to maintain that equilibrium.”

“Shall we go with you?”  Deidre offered, unable to contain her curiosity again. 

“Hold on,” Terry said, more to Deidre than Brianna.  “What’s your point in finding us?  If anything, you have more of an upper hand than we do.  How do we know Mikol won’t pull you out at the last minute, especially if he knows you are within proximity of Cort?”

“You don’t, do you?  I should think that’s a problem Sid can worry about more than you.  But if that were to happen, I came to tell you I am not interested in working for Mikol.  He was very quick to pull Dimetri, wasn’t he?  And yet here I am, still floundering my way through.”  She looked around at the group of them, Terry and Deidre as still as stone in consideration, Cort grim-faced with his own thoughts, and Rachel trying very hard not to kill Sid with looks of her own.  Sid looked bored.

“If you take me back with you,” Brianna continued, drawing a deep breath, all too aware the future of her existence depended on their acceptance, “I’ll tell you anything you need to know about Mikol’s operations.  I don’t know who the mole is, but with my help, you’ll be much more able to gain a few steps ahead of him.”

“Unless,” she added, locking eyes with Sid one last time, “keeping what you’ve worked for is not that important anymore.”

^& ^ & ^ & ^ & ^ & ^ & ^

Dipping both hands into the bucket of water, Maximus splashed his face then turned, letting the droplets trickle through his beard as he stood silently near the wall, looking back at the practice yard. He spent hours there every day, keeping his muscles in shape, studying the movements of the well-seasoned gladiators. It had been a week now since the Carthage re-enactment and he'd been told this afternoon by Proximo that he would be going into the arena again tomorrow.

Wiping a palm across his face, he made his way to a small wooden bench and sat, looking up at the sky. One huge cumulus cloud piled itself whitely across the blue. The farmer in his soul studied it for the possibility of rain before he realized what he was doing and checked himself with a small snort, but not before a long, thin pain shot its way through his soul. He closed his eyes, trying to picture his wheat field ripe in the Spanish sun, but the remembered scent of scorched earth filled his nostrils and he opened his lids quickly.

Lucilla had come to see him several days ago and the memory of it still disturbed him. The sight of her was like some large rock dropped into the pool of his existence, rippling its surface in ways he didn't want.  She asked things of him he could no longer do, wanted him to be things he no longer was capable of. He wanted  to be left alone, wanted to kill Commodus any way he was able. The politics of Rome...well, too bad about them. He had one thing left to do and it had nothing to do with politics. Again the smell of scorched earth and, worse, burnt flesh, came to him and his teeth clamped tightly together.

He leaned his head back against the rough wall and must have dozed for a moment.  The sudden clang of metal on metal startled him awake and he flicked a glance at two gladiators practicing nearby. What did Commodus have planned for him in the arena tomorrow afternoon? He smiled grimly. He was actually rather surprised he was still alive now that he'd had to reveal his identity. It seemed Commodus wanted a public death for him and not an assassin's knife in some dark chamber.

He let his mind wander back to Zucchabar, to the moment he'd decided to fight and not just die. That brought the Arizonian to mind again. He'd been aware of the man's careful study of him. He shook his head, still puzzled greatly over who the Arizonian could be, why he'd been there, why he'd been taken away by the Centurion, why he'd shown up here in Rome outside the fence. And the others. There were those...others...who also looked remarkably like him. Did Commodus have something to do with that? How did it all...fit? He'd been so occupied with what was going on in his own life, he'd not had much time to ponder their presence. But it nagged at him, was always lurking somewhere in the outer regions of his mind.  Especially the young Arizonian. He seemed to be genuinely concerned about him. Why? Why would he care? He'd told him before the Carthage fight that everything would be all right. What did he know? HOW could he know anything? It didn't make sense.

Then there was that woman in Zucchabar, the tall blonde one who had jumped into the arena. Why had she done such a thing? She'd seemed strangely out of place there somehow, in Zucchabar. And a woman...leaping into the arena? Was she hoping for death? She'd had no weapon he'd been able to see, and she just suddenly crumpled and dropped as though she'd been stabbed through the heart. He knew no one had gotten near her with a sword or spear. What had happened to her? As he was being herded back to the gladiator pens, he'd seen guards carrying her away. Was she dead?

And the dark-haired man with the sharp face who'd been chained to the Arizonian...who was he? He'd never seen anyone behave in the arena like that, putting himself constantly between the Arizonian and every attacker. The man had seemed shocked when the woman crumpled. Had she jumped into the arena because of him? It made his head ache just trying to think about it. He closed his eyes again. He would think about tomorrow. Tomorrow when he went into the arena again. Yes, he would think about that.

Terry had spent the week working on Sid, trying to get him to reveal his plans, trying to make sure the nanotech knew he needed to take the whole team with him when he warped out with the General. When he wasn't talking with Sid, he was worrying with his own small device, seeing what capabilities he could rejigger it into having. There was, of course, no way to make it into a warp shell, but he hoped he could at least use it to create some sort of protective force field should it be needed.

Brianna had come and gone several times, always only staying briefly as she detoured to meet with them while doing errands for Livius. Terry found himself liking the woman a bit more each time. Maybe because she was just as trapped in the movie as they were, her vulnerability got to him. It certainly appeared as though Mikol had deserted her. She was not aware of any implanted device such as Dimetri obviously had had. And, too, the way Sid looked at her made Terry feel a bit protective.  That blatant mixture of hate and lust showed in the nanotech's eyes every time he looked at the woman.

And he worried about Diedre and Rachel and Cort. He felt responsible for them, for getting them safely back home. That he knew he couldn't trust Sid in the least, only added to his concerns for their well-being. All Sid seemed really to care about was getting Maximus back to Emerald City. Terry knew leaving his team behind would be all too easy for him to do. He sighed heavily, looking across the small table where Diedre sat, chewing on a leathery piece of meat.

"It'll be all right," he said, reaching across the table to rest one of his hands atop hers. "I'll make sure of it."

She stopped chewing and looked at him. His face was so serious and despite his comforting words, she plainly saw the worry in his eyes. He tried to hide it with a sudden smile, but she'd seen it before his attempted cover-up. Somehow she didn't want him to know she had so she smiled back, saying, "I know you will, Terry." And she did. It was like that moment in their room a few days back when she'd truly realized he would die trying to keep them safe. Her eyes stung with sudden tears before she could blink them away.

"Diedre!" he said, softly squeezing her hand. "What is it?"

Her chin trembling a bit, she tried to smile again. "It's just that...that...I love you, Terry Thorne. I really do."

His eyes went all soft as he began to rub his thumb pad across her knuckles.

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

Cort stood again with Rachel just outside the the fence of the practice yard, watching as Maximus leaned his head on the wall, his eyes closed. He chewed his lip a bit as he looked at the General. He'd asked around and found out that Maximus was scheduled for the arena tomorrow. He knew, of course, what the General didn't know. There would be tigers. And worse than that, afterwards Commodus would rip at him with the fangs of his words, dangling Maximus' loss in front of him, taunting him with the unspeakable horror of it, hoping the General would lose his self control, would get himself in the position where the Praetorians could run him through.

Rachel leaned the side of her head against his upper arm and he turned his neck so he could look down at her. How had he been so lucky...no, not lucky...so blessed, yes, that was the word he wanted...so blessed as to have her be there for him when the loop of his movie had finally ended? Often when he looked at her walking beside him or woke in the night and watched her sleeping, he could hardly believe she was real. Sliding his arm around her back, he whispered into her hair, "Why, Rachel, why do you love me?

She tipped her head, smiling up at him. "How could I not love you, Cortland Wells?"

He smiled back, leading her away from the fence. "Come," he murmured, heading toward their inn.

They leaned into each other as they walked, arms about each other's waists.  "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice trailing off.

"What doesn't matter?"

"It doesn't matter where we are. Not so long as I can feel the length of you against me like this. It doesn't matter."

"I'll never be away from your side, my Cort. Never. I'll always be right here beside you...just like this."

A sudden shudder took him, head to toe, and he stumbled slightly.

"What?" she cried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered, trying to smile. "I don't know...just...no, it's nothing." He gathered her still more closely.  "Come...hurry...I need to lie beside you. I need to hold you."

She'd seen, though, the dark shadow that had passed quickly over his eyes as though his mind had remembered something terrible. Her arm tightly about his waist, she clutched her fingers around his belt, holding on for all she was worth.

She'd seen his eyes, seen the cloud briefly hide the sunlight of his smile in them, but neither of them had seen the eyes that watched them from the deep covering of a tan hood, eyes that were colder, more soulless than Sid's and yet glinted with a heart-clutching pleasure. They turned a corner, hurrying on, neither hearing the one word said softly in a deep, resonating voice. "Cort."

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