LOST IN THE EMPIRE
PART 7

Cort had seen Maximus walking by, heading for the surgery, and had slipped away from Terry, following the General, keeping carefully in the shadows of the tents. There was, for him, no way he could not follow the man. He was... involved...both because of the two of them having the same source and because he was still working out the whole 'movie' thing in his own head as it related to him. Being in, actually IN Gladiator, was amazing for him. And, so, he kept his gaze locked on the uniformed Maximus, his mind whirling with the knowledge that the General did not now, not yet, know he was a character in a movie. The very reality of the movie for Maximus bore Cort down with the reality of his own movie. He needed to sort this out and watching Maximus just 'be' his character seemed an important part of that. Then, too, he had developed this great empathy for Maximus' coming plight and watching him walk as he was now, still so in command, still so unaware of what would befall him the coming day, caused a tightening in Cort's heart that was almost a physical pain. Was there some way, any way, he could keep coming events from befalling Maximus? They weren't supposed to be where they were. The end of the movie...that was where retrievers belonged...only there. Not here at the beginning. Could their presence change things? Accidentally? Possibly...deliberately? He had no idea.

He watched Maximus enter the tent, waited a long moment, then followed. It was chaos. Men lay, crouched, sat everywhere in various stages of injury as all too few attendants moved among them. He saw the silver-haired surgeon look at the General as he passed. No one paid any attention to him as he slipped between rows of cots trying to avoid the puddles of blood while not losing sight of Maximus. He knew the General would stop in a moment, lift his head and close his eyes, moved by the sufferings of his men. Cort liked that about the man, that he cared. Before the battle, he was their commander. Somehow, after, he seemed their shepherd.

Sid had the two halves of a broken ruler in his right hand and was crushing them into splinters as he watched one of the monitors start to show a fuzzy picture in the midst of its static. Slowly the tunnel in Rome became visible, Maximus doused his torch, gained its entrance and whistled his signal to Cicero.

 Sid closed his eyes, pressing his lips tightly together, clenching his teeth. Again. Maximus would die...again. His team had obviously not made it to the tunnel. Perhaps they were under the arena and could free him before Commodus' visit? Probably too much to ask. Were they even IN Gladiator? Perhaps they were at the siege of Troy? Or on the walls of Crusader-held Jerusalem?

He turned sharply on his heel, letting ruler particles sift to the floor. His eyes locking on Alicia's, he spat, "I suppose I shall have to go find them." Narrowing his eyes, he added, “This is twice in a row I have had to save Rachel's ass."

"It's not her fault, Sid," Alicia said, shaking her head. "It was the warp itself this time. You know that."

"I know NOTHING!" he snapped, more irritated than he'd ever been in his existence, which was really saying something. This was the mission of all missions...the one that counted the most. He should have gone himself in the first place. Gone alone. Ignoring everybody, he stalked to a computer, entering data rapidly, trying to get some fix on possibilities of vortices in warps that had gone haywire.

Terry was frantic. Cort had simply disappeared! He let the flap of one of the supply tents close behind him, stepping out into the night. Hundreds of Roman campfires twinkled in the darkness and he was struck by the vastness of the encampment. Where could he be? Where would he go? He closed his eyes, running this first night of the movie in his mind. Where? Where? He blew out a sharp breath. He had only seen the extended version recently. The surgery! Maximus would be in the surgery now before going to meet with the other high-ranking officers. He had only a vague idea of Cort's fascination with the General's story, but remembered having to drag him away from watching the cavalry charge. Getting the location from a guard, he walked rapidly in the direction of the field hospital tents. With any luck, Cort would be there. It was the only place he could think of.

As he walked, he tried to formulate some plan. Maximus would be heading for Spain tomorrow. With no way of warping back to Emerald City, they were stuck with having to follow him. That meant only this one night in the Roman army encampment. They would need horses. Supplies. It was a long way to Spain. How were they going to manage it? How would they manage...any... of it? It was, he knew, possible that they would be trapped in the loop of Gladiator from now on. That thought lodged in his belly, a large, hard knot of worry. And he had brought two totally inexperienced retrievers with him. One of them was already missing. Looking up at the expanse of stars, he muttered, "Damn you, Sid. FIND US!"

He knew he was close to the surgical tents by the odor. The smell of blood hung in the air like fog. Maximus' line, "bloodied and cleaved", came to mind. Cleaved probably said it all. As he stooped slightly to enter the large tent, the first thing greeting his eyes was a young soldier lying on a cot, his right arm hanging by mere threads of flesh. "Cleaved," he whispered, then turned, scanning quickly for Cort. "Be here, please, please be here!" he mouthed silently, not knowing where to look next. He sighed, his brow furrowing deeply. Where? Then he saw Maximus near a fire some distance away. If Cort were here, he'd be close to the General most likely, so Terry moved quickly in that direction.

Ah! There he was! Terry saw that Cort was so absorbed in studying the General that he was unaware of the three soldiers approaching him from behind, obviously intending to speak with him. Quickening his pace, Terry grabbed up a long strip of dirty cloth from the floor, several darkened bloodstains adding to its unpleasant appearance.

"Here!" Terry hissed at Cort. "Wrap this around your lower face...NOW!"

Cort was startled. "Wha...?"

Terry nodded at the soldiers. "Cover your mouth with it. You're wounded. Can't talk."

Terry stepped behind Cort, blocking the soldiers' view of him as Cort quickly tied the cloth around his face, almost gagging at the smell of it. The soldiers had seen Cort only from the back and as they stepped in front of him, as far as they were concerned, the bandage could have been there all along. He'd let his shoulders slump as though standing were hard for him and Terry grabbed his elbow, starting to guide him away, remarking off-hand, "Looks like the surgeon can sew you up now, Cordius."

They passed right in front of Maximus, who reached out, laying a hand briefly, comfortingly, on Cort's shoulder. "Good man," the General said.

Cort's face was half-hidden, but as they passed, Maximus got a clear view of Terry's. He started, did a double-take, opened his mouth to say something, but Terry rushed Cort out the back of the tent and they melted into the darkness. Maximus pulled back the tent flap, staring after them, his eyes puzzled, wondering. Then he looked at the moon. He was late. Studying his hands, he frowned. Oh, well, there would doubtless be some sort of basin to wash them in where he was going. He lifted his right palm, gazing at it wryly, wishing it were merely soiled with dirt...good, black, Spanish dirt. A smile played about the corners of his mouth. Home. He would be going home soon.

^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^

Rachel followed Deidre around, avoiding the gazes of the soldiers as much as possible, feeling very vulnerable to the new situation. They handed bowls of food to those they first found wanting them, then turned around to return for more, but after the fifth or sixth trip, Rachel could feel the tension of adjusting to rapid changes in plans and situations turn into a raw kind of despair. A lot of that had to do with the shocking wounds she saw bandaged up, the worn faces, and confusion of languages among the soldiers. At least it was confusing to her because she had only just attained a nominal grip on Latin during their training. She remained as close to Deidre as she could, feigning ignorance and confusion of her own whenever it seemed someone addressed her. Deidre’s more confident demeanor seemed to give her some shielding, as if she were in charge of Rachel in some way, and Rachel was all too happy to take advantage of that. But the stress of moving about and blending in and establishing themselves as a normal part of the camp was beginning to wear on her.

Part of the encroaching weariness also had to do with the fact that they still carried their baggage on their backs, something Rachel chose to ignore until the weight upon her shoulders got to be too much for yet another trip. Was probably why she had received so many strange looks from those in the camp, she thought. Empty of bowls yet heavy with baggage and anxiety, Rachel found herself trudging back into the slave camp, singling out a blank spot just beyond the tents, and plopping down onto the ground, sliding off her burdens to fall beside her.

Deidre stood near, cautiously looking around at the continuous bustle before setting down her own wares beside her. No one seemed to be interested in bothering them now.

“The bossy one can shove me around if she chooses,” Rachel told her, as Deidre sat down beside her. “I’m too tired to go on and the night is going on and on, and we don’t have a place to sleep yet. And I’m tired of looking at death,” she added.

“I hope Terry can gather up some blankets at least,” Deidre said. “I don’t like the thought of having to stay with this camp for much longer, but I don’t like the idea of trying to get through the night out there either.”

“We’re so screwed,” Rachel muttered in despair.

“Only if we don’t get help from You Know Where,” Deidre muttered in reply. “Until then, we hunker down and wait. I like your idea better. There’s no telling what will get us caught if we keep going into the soldier’s camp. I thought for sure some of those soldiers were going to snag you for Lord only knows what. I hope Terry and Cort come find us soon.”

When Rachel felt she had rested enough, she got food for the both of them. Much of the slave complement was only interested in taking care of their respective masters. It had become apparent, after she and Deidre sat and watched for a while, that many of the women ignored the bluster of the bossy one.

Watching Deidre sit and go through their supplies, Rachel felt a surge of gratitude for her companion’s confident and casual air. Despite the wild disarray of their situation, the red-haired Southerner seemed almost…happy. But then, ancient Rome and Egypt had been a life-long interest for Deidre. This was a fantasy come true for her. She sighed, wondering if Deidre would think her nosy if she asked her thoughts about the new experience of retrieval, only barely able to recall her own experience some three years before. But that had been less fraught with pain and death, she reminded herself.

Deidre seemed intent on waving off any women who sidled past, most of whom were blatantly curious and nosy themselves. Rachel decided to wait, especially since it invited less trouble to act as if they couldn’t understand much of what was said around them. She then busied herself with some sewing she had stuffed into one of her satchels and urged Rachel to do the same, a task Rachel found somewhat mollifying for the descending bad mood. But it seemed hours wore on and the bustle began to die down as slaves took their place with their respective masters, or gave up finding their own place in the absence of those who were lost to battle.

Waiting as they did on the periphery of the camp, however, led to thoughts of Cort and how helpless he had been when she had gone to retrieve him, to all their discussions about the mission…to where he might be in the camp. What little calm she had gained by sitting down and allowing the confusion to sort itself out began to seep away. It had been one thing to tell Cort what to expect; it had been another to hear it in his voice in the moments they found themselves on the hill. The look on his face as he sought out Maximus…a strong impression of his sudden realization returned to her. Even though it had been dim under the trees, with fire and fury all around, just a mere few seconds had impressed her: Cort was completely taken now. All he had contemplated, considered, reviewed, was now concrete, beneath his feet, around him in blazing clarity.

She caught Deidre looking up at the same moment she did with this new thought, wondering for the umpteenth time what took Terry and Cort so long to find them. He must be walking through searching for Maximus, Rachel thought, a fresh panic setting in. He has to know the time is too soon! Landing so near the beginning changed the dynamics of the retrieval, their entire approach…making any contact with Maximus might damage any chance they have of getting to him later!

^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^

Cort pulled the cloth down as he and Terry made their way through the more shadowy parts of the encampment, avoiding campfires and groups of soldiers. He had barely been able to keep his bile down in the tent with it across his nose and mouth. He made a move to drop it on the ground, but Terry snapped, "Keep it!" The K&R agent's worry mixed with irritation, made his voice sharp. He pulled Cort into the black shadow of a large wagon.

"Listen, Cort, you can't do that again."

"Do what?"

"Slip away by yourself like that. It's just not safe. You risk everything...us, too. Rachel."

Cort rubbed his hand across his chin, thinking back to his encounter with Maximus in the tent. He smiled slightly, remembering the General's words to him.

"He saw my face," Terry continued. "We can't have that. Not yet."

Cort wondered what Maximus had thought about that...about seeing Terry's face. But all he said was, "Do you have any idea where Rachel and Diedre would be? Can you find them?"

"This way," Terry whispered, stepping out of the shadow to cross an open space toward the cook tents. "I thought they'd blend in, be safer, over toward the edge of the camp."

He detoured to a smaller supply tent, leaving Cort outside just long enough to gather an armful of blankets. As quietly as possible they skirted the outer perimeter, looking for the two women. Finally Diedre saw them and called softly, "Over here!"

Cort sprinted up beside Rachel, dropping down to sit beside her, pulling her close. "You are all right?" he asked, concerned.

"Cold, tired, missing you," she murmured, burying her face gratefully against his shoulder.

Before Terry sat, he looked down at the two of them. "Better have a talk with him, Rache. He wandered off following Maximus. We almost got caught. And Maximus saw my face."

Rachel pulled back a little, looking up at Cort. "Oh, Cort...you didn't?"

Cort grinned. "I did. And it was...great! Rachel, it was wonderful! I got to see the whole scene in the surgery! And he spoke to me!"

"He SPOKE to you? No, Cort!"

"It was fine, Rachel. My face was covered. He took me for one of his wounded men." He was still brimming with the excitement of it. "He's just like I expected!"

Rachel sighed. He was so happy. She didn't want to take that away from him...but yet...he could have got himself killed. She squeezed his hand. "I know," she smiled, "but you MUST be more careful. So much is at stake now. Promise me you'll be more cautious?"

"Just like I expected!" he repeated. She noticed, of course, he had not promised.

Terry handed each of them a thick wool blanket. "Best I could do right now, I'm afraid," he said, "and I think we should move a bit further into the woods before settling down. Too easy for the patrols to spot us here." He extended his hand, helping Diedre to her feet, picking up her bundles to carry for her.

About 50 yards into the tree-line he found a large tangle of bush and scrub, leading the other three behind it. The battle had missed this spot and instead of mud, a small area of thick, dried grasses stretched for about 15 feet. As they settled on their blankets, he leaned toward Cort. "Ever rustle horses in the old days?"

He saw the flash of Cort's white teeth in the moonlight. "Good," he nodded, "experience is always a useful thing."

Cort lay there on his blanket, looking up at the stars. Rachel was pressed close to his side and her blanket covered the two of them. Distant sounds filtered up to their tiny camp from the huge encampment below. He knew Maximus would be talking now with his friends...the man he thought was his closest friend...then to the two Senators and Commodus.

Commodus. Herod should have had HIM as a son! His body tensed as he thought of the man who would shortly be Emperor, of what he would do tomorrow.

Rachel, aware of his sudden tension, touched his cheek. "What are you thinking about?"

He sighed. "Commodus. I wish there were some way, any way, to stop him."

A flash of sharp fear raced through her and she sat up, leaning over him, putting both of her palms on his chest. "Don't you even THINK about that, Cortland Wells! You hear me? Don't you think about that at ALL!"

Putting his arms around her back, he pulled her down, silencing her lips with his. Despite their soft warmth, her fear for him still shivered down her spine. Why had she let him come? She KNEW how he felt. WHY had she let him?

Sid spent two hours entering data then sat, staring at the screen, watching as pages of mathematical formulae scrolled rapidly by. His lip curled in disgust. Only...probabilities... nothing the least bit definitive. Lifting his fingers from the keyboard, he curled them into claws then stretched his each one slowly out. He turned his head slightly to the left, just enough to watch Alicia moving about the room, going from monitor to monitor. She couldn't come with him. Such a trip through the warp would kill her. He smiled a little. He wanted her alive, damn him but he did. He also wanted to go alone into Gladiator with no one to watch him, no one to know what methods he might use to get what he wanted. His right hand dropped, caressing a small object in his pocket. What the rest of them didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Well, some...maybe. His smile widened a bit more. All he had to do was make it into Gladiator then he could move about the scenes at will. Not needing sleep had its perks. He could work on... projects...while others yielded consciousness during the long night hours.

Alicia walked up, resting the point of her elbow on his shoulder. "Any luck?"

He tipped his chin toward her. "I'll start at the very beginning...a very good place to start...," he replied in a singsong tone he knew would irk her.

She, in turn, ruffled his perfectly coifed hair. "Julie Andrews you are not, Nanoboy," she laughed. "Though the Austrian settings do apply. I'll give you that."

Suddenly serious, she asked, "Truly, Sid? The very beginning of the film? Couldn't that put you way too far behind them?"

"Not to worry," he purred, rising from the chair, taking her fingertips in his hand and bowing. "I can handle it."

She frowned. He was too...confident. A confident Sid was always a plotting Sid. "What do...?" she started, but he lifted her fingers to his mouth, biting a little too hard.

"I can handle it," he repeated, kissed her stinging finger and walked to the door.

^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^

“Remember the pine glade near the house?” Rachel heard Cort ask, his arms enfolding her next to him once more after he pulled her down to kiss him. Their eyes had adjusted to the dark now, and with the skies above clearing away of clouds, the moon cast a familiar light down upon them, enough so that she could see Cort’s breath spill into the night air as vapor. He turned his head to catch her gaze. One of her hands still rested on his chest and he grabbed it up and pressed it tighter. She could feel his heart thump against her fingers.

She couldn’t answer. The fragrance of the forest was pulling a variety of emotions from her, and not all of them were related to the battle or finding Maximus.

Without another word, Cort rolled her until she was beneath him, blankets covering them both, hiding them. He wound the fingers of his free hand in her hair, kissing her deeply until she tilted her chin to pause for air. He then moved to trace with his lips a hot line along her jaw, murmuring words he had said that night. His hand slid down to her shoulder, her breast, her side, her thigh…

“Cort, we can’t!” Rachel hissed and grabbed his hand to pull to her stomach. “Not here…not now…”

“Yes, here…yes, now…I’ll be quiet,” he whispered back, voice low and breathless. She could feel him smile against the hollow behind her ear.

She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or act shocked.

“Well, I never can,” she blurted. Her senses were reeling. Did she even care if they heard? “And you know it.”

He lifted his head to look down at her, smiling even more broadly.

“I challenge you, then,” he taunted.

“I will not. Cort…Cort, sweetheart, stop putting me off,” a whiff of cold night air snapped some of her senses into reason. Wedging her arms between them to hold him back, she flattened her palms against his chest, fixing his gaze with a plea in her own. He relaxed against her somewhat, giving up. “Why did you go off like that? Something could have happened to you! These guys make Herod and the others look like…like amateurs. I know…I know how you feel about all of this…but you have to remember, we’re in a very precarious situation. He shouldn’t have any hint of you or Terry until we are able to get him in the warp. You can’t just walk up to him and say ‘hi, I’m just like you and you’re coming with us.’”

Cort frowned down at her. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but she had a feeling they were getting dark with exasperation.

“It’s what we’re planning anyway, isn’t it? Why not?”

“Cort, please…”

“What would be the harm of getting him now? Of trying to stop…”

“Because he wouldn’t be the man we wanted at the end of the film.” Rachel tried to angle for a little more moonlight to look directly in his face. “Cort, would you have come willingly if I had come up to you that first night in chains and released you and said ‘hi, I’m from another world and I’m here to rescue you. You’re coming with me.’ What would you have done? And…and would you have felt the same way about me as you do now?”

Cort slid back to lay on his side, propped up on an elbow, holding her hand to his chest once more. Rachel remained on her back, reaching up to cup his face with her hand.

“You’ve no idea how badly I wanted to talk with you first, to try and…introduce something that would seem bizarre to you but…had wanted to get some amount of trust so when…when I brought you back with me, you’d have something to fall back on…I don’t know....” Rachel sighed and covered her eyes, trying to reorganize the memories and thoughts that welled up in her. “It’s what I was trying to do when I got us into that phaeton, to get you out to the shed, show you some of the things I had with me…but Sid…Sid had to show up…”

She looked up at him again, remembering so much. “I wanted to do what you are wanting to do now, but that was at the end of your story. If I had taken you before Herod died, would you still be wondering if you could have done something for…the townspeople….for Ellen?”

PART 8

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