TOO QUICK TO DIE

By Sharon Ferguson and Jo Anzalone

The direct continuation of Montana Crosswinds,

X-Proof, and In the Time of Fog

Sharon writing Rachel, Terry, Dee, Bud, John Biebe

Jo writing Cort, Maximus, Caroline, Sid, Henri

PART ONE:

"It's really all right, Son? That we left Montana so quickly?"

Dr. Henri D'Ausson, better known by Cort as Henry Dawson,

studied his 'adoptive' son's profile as the airport limo Terry

had arranged for them pulled up the curving drive through

the pines.

Cort just gave him  an  affectionate  pat on  the leg, his  eyes 

focused on  the  blue Victorian house with the big white porch

that was just coming into view. Maybe because he was so used

any more to his entire life changing within moments, leaving

Montana had  not  turned  out to be quite as big a  deal for him

as he would have imagined. Just days ago  he'd been mending

fence line, mucking stalls, feeding chickens on the Holcomb's

farm nestled at the foothills  of the  Bridger mountain  range

north of Bozeman.  Then, when he  and Henri had been out in

a field on horseback, the grizzly had come.  Rachel had been

alone in her little Secret Garden by the creek. As long as he lived

he'd never forget the sound of her screams as he pounded toward

her with nothing but a hunting knife as a weapon.

He looked down at his lap where her little hand was enfolded in

his.  She was carrying their child.  He was still somehow amazed

that should be so.  But what that had meant was there were two

of them that day the bear had come.  No, leaving Montana had

not been hard  after that.  She'd protested that she'd be  fine

back at the little Peacefield ranch. She was a woman of undoubted courage.  He knew that well from  all they  had been through

together. But it was him. He was the one who knew that whenever

he had to ride out to some more distant section of the land to tend

to all the things that needed tending, the one who knew that his

eyes would be constantly straining back to the small ranch house, constantly wondering if she were all right.

The place was just so damn far from anywhere else.  At first, it

was what he liked best about it.  He could almost be back in the

1880's there what with the wide open skies, the horses and cattle,

the lack of any modern noises or smells.  That had been glorious. 

But that had ceased to matter the day the bear had come and

Rachel was all alone.

Thank God Henri had been there that day. Cort's arm had been

raked full length by the bear's long claws and he would never

have been able to get her help in time, not if Henri had not been

there.  That  was another  reason they'd come back to the blue

house NanoCorp owned. Healing.  He had deep wounds that ran

from shoulder to wrist on his left arm,  Rachel's back and calf

had been mangled, and they both would be left terribly scarred

were the special technologies of NanoCorp not taken advantage

of.

As it was late afternoon when the limo pulled up in front of the

house, they wouldn't be going in to the medical facilities until

the next day. Now...well, now it was time for him and Rachel to

be quietly back in the gentle blue house with its surrounding tall

pines. He smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze as he thought

of the night they had first made love in the protective shelter of

these very trees.

"Dee said she'd give a call a little later this evening, to see how

we’re getting along," Rachel told the two men sitting with her,

even though her eyes had been fixed on the little blue cottage, wondering how she'd feel about seeing it again.  The limo had

slipped  out  into  the  sunshine from the  lane  of  elms  and

sycamores that surrounded the NanoCorp complex and slid

right back under shade when they turned into the more private

section of the woods that were dominated by the tall massive

pine trees.  She felt Cort squeeze her hand and she glanced up

at him, catching the look he gave her, and smiled.  He was  remembering the same thing.

What he could not possibly remember, however, was the sheer

panic and fear she had been under the last time she was in the

little blue house that Sid and Terry had set up for their newest

retrieval, Cort.  No, she had only hinted at the morning that she

and Dee flew like desperados to the house to gather up her things

and prepare  for  her trip  to  the Czech Republic,  had  only

mentioned the moment when she had run into their bedroom

with their clothes strewn about as though it had only been a

few hours, and not weeks, since she and Cort had...well, enjoyed

each  other's  company  there.  Had only  casually  mentioned

finding  his shirt  and clinging to it as  though it were the last

artifact of their love to ever exist in the world. 

She blinked and found that the blue house could now be seen in between the tall russet- colored spires of pine, found herself

smiling again.  Instead of painful memories, she flashed to the

evening she and Cort went dancing.  Had it really been only six

months ago?  God, it felt like another era entirely!  They had

both been so raw then, and so eager to please and comfort each

other.  That feeling had been transformed now into something

much deeper and richer, people that the Rachel of a year ago

would not recognize, someone that Cort would never imagine

himself to be.  Now here she was again, with Cort at her side as

her husband and carrying his child. 

Her other hand went unconsciously to the rounded bulge of her

belly, wanting to reassure herself of the life underneath her palm. 

She was well into showing now, a fact that pleased her more than

she could say; was also baffled by it sometimes.  She was having

to learn whole new ways of moving around and sitting, finding

that things she used to take for granted were new challenges.

Actually, the growth of the baby wasn't what gave her the most problem; it was the leg that had  been  bitten  and mauled by the

bear. The plastic surgeon had done an exceptional job reconnecting torn muscle.  It was the deep puncture wounds of the bear's teeth

that had caused the most worry, with a potential for deep infection always a threat until the wounds healed completely. But even with

the therapy she was under to rehabilitate ligament and muscle, she found that her leg was weaker and more prone to giving out.  It

would be some time, she knew, before she could find out just how

extensive the injury was - not until she was able to get out on the

gym floor and wield her rapier again would she know the cost of

the bear attack. 

It  had  been  Henri who urged  them to  return to  NanoCorp and 

seek the  healing  properties of  the nanoblood, the remarkable

blood developed by NanoCorp as a therapy and back up supply

for hospitals and military units, blood that contained specifically programmed nanobots that  accelerated healing  and recovery. 

Rachel had been reluctant, very reluctant, not the least among

her  reasons being  the  idea of  nanoblood  encountering her  

developing baby; that and being very aware of the issues that

had plagued the company as well as Terry and Deidre from the

time they got back from their stint in "Gladiator." It had been disconcerting enough to hear that the blood supply had been

tainted, but when they learned of how Terry broke his arm and

why he himself did not use the nanoblood for his recovery, her

first reaction to Henri's suggestion had been adamantly opposed. 

Cort, however...it anguished her to see that his arm had been

mauled as well.  Unless they  used the nanoblood,  he'd have

trouble using it to the extent that he was used to - and knowing

the once-deadly quick reflexes would be slowed - that bit into

Rachel's heart with vicious regret.  Well, no time for regrets,

she knew.  Only solutions.  And Terry had reassured them not

too long ago that the supply had been thoroughly checked and production restored.  Rachel was still very nervous about the

whole  situation,  but since  both Terry  and  Henri  sounded

confident, she felt she could trust them.  And if there were a

possibility of Cort getting full use of his arm back, she'd go

with it.  But something instinctive told her not to mess with

the miracle that was already forming under her heart.

The house grew closer and its blue walls and white gingerbread

looked so happy to her, she found herself blinking back tears. 

Cort had loved the ranch, but this place, where they had first

come together...this place was always where her heart secretly

escaped.  And now they were back.

As the limo came to a halt, Cort stepped out, standing quietly a moment, just looking at the house, the setting, contrasting it with

his bare, stone room in the high tower of Mikol's castle in the

Czech Republik.  He remembered sitting on the white railing in

the dusk, waiting for Rachel to come. This had been the first place

he'd lived in this new world, this new time he'd been thrust into

after his retrieval from The Quick and the Dead. Yes, there was definitely a sense of "home" somehow about the place.  But that

was due more to Rachel than the place itself.  She carried 'home'

with her. 

So very much had happened since he'd last seen this place, since

he'd left it that day months ago to enter Sid's warp that would

take him,  Rachel, Terry and  Dee into Gladiator.  Gladiator.

Damn! He realized he hadn't thought of Maximus for several

days.  But being back here on the grounds of Emerald City there

was no way not to think of his older counterpart.  Sid, damn his blackened heart, had simply disappeared with the General the

moment of their arrival back here.  Sid himself, he had been told,

had returned, but there was no word yet on what he'd done with Maximus.  That was another of the many reasons he'd agreed to

return to Emerald City.  He intended to find out what Sid was

up to.  He didn't speak of that much, but it loomed largely in his

mind.  Maximus.  Maximus, who had been ripped from his time

by Sid just as he himself had been. Maximus who would be lost

in this time, this place, more removed from all he knew than

even Cort was.  Maximus who had no Rachel to comfort him,

to give him a new sense of belonging, of home.

He felt Rachel's light touch on his arm and turned to hand her

out of the car, then leaned back in enough to speak to Henri.

"We'll  see  you  around 10  in  the morning, ok?   Glad your

apartment  is so close, Dad.   I've gotten used to having you

around, you know."

"Ten," Henri repeated, smiling at the young couple standing

side by side. How glad he was that they were here, were together, were...alive.  Cort had been trying to run the ranch in Montana

all alone, was wearing himself out. It had been way too soon

after his concussion during the time of the attempted robbery

of the inn where they'd spent their honeymoon,  way too soon

for him to take on such a vast, unending work load.  And Rachel,

with a difficult pregnancy, needed to be closer to medical care.

Yes, he was very glad they had agreed to come back with him to Emerald City.

Cort waved as the limo pulled away then turned, looking down

at the face of his wife. "We're home, Mrs. Wells," he said softly.

"We're home."

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

Sid sat alone in his hidden control room, clicking and reclicking

the tip of a black ballpoint pen as he stared at a blank monitor. 

So, the little priest and his broom-pusher wife were returning

today, eh?  He smiled slightly, his lids partially lowering.

He still couldn't believe the incompetent little retriever had gone

into Mikol's headquarters all alone and managed to come out

with the cowpoke in tow.  She'd never performed anything he'd

ever asked her to do that efficiently. He frowned deeply. It was,

he  knew,  because she  loved Cort,  loved  the  ever-wounded

preacher-man. He understood about that now. He wished he

didn't, but he did and there was no going back to the days...

before. No going back to before he knew what it felt like to have

a woman look at him with her heart in her eyes, no way not to

know what her hand sliding down his thigh did to him.  No way

not to remember that incredible rise in his heart, his whole being,

when she told him she was carrying his child.  And now Rachel

was back, and she was carrying Cort's child.

He threw the pen across the room then swiped his hand over his

desk, sending papers, folders, notebooks scattered to the floor.  Maximus. It was all his fault, his doing. He had taken everything

away, everything.  She, his Brianna, had died, had died with his

child within her, because she could not resist the need to go to

Maximus one last time. But even as she lay dying, crushed and

broken from the surf flinging her onto the rocks of the headland,

even then her last thoughts had been a request that he not leave Maximus alone on the island, that he warp him back to modern

times.  She had said that the General was dying.  He himself had

not gone to check on the man before warping him back into 2007. 

He had not cared, not then, if Maximus were alive or dead, only

that he was...away, out of his sight.

He closed his eyes, taken for a moment back to that time when

he'd knelt beside Brianna's body in the wet sand, his hands resting

on her belly where he knew his tiny baby was dying.  He'd never

felt so entirely helpless in his existence.  He intended never to feel

that way again.  Ever.  It was why when he'd warped himself back

here he'd been willing to endure the pain of undoing what he'd

spent uncounted millions to accomplish.  The Maximus chip,

garnered with such care while Maximus was his prisoner in the

so-called 'palace' had resulted in way more than he'd ever planned.  When he'd inserted it into himself the effect had been much like

a caterpillar entering a cocoon and developing into a butterfly. 

Only it had...hurt.  Agony heaped upon agony during the process

of it. But he had come out of it with all of Maximus' memories up

until that point by the heated bath pool. He'd thought that would

be the extent of it, that he would know all that Maximus knew, be skilled in all that the General was. But on the island his very

bodily form had changed and he had become entirely...human.

He needed sleep, food. He grew bodily hair.  He...sweated. And

Brianna had fallen in love with him.

He understood  from the  beginning that much of that was

because Maximus himself had rejected her.  He'd made sure of

that, made sure the General knew that she was his employee all

along, that she knew they were not in Rome, that she knew what

Sid had  been  up to.  But  then he had  become just as much

Maximus as  Maximus was and she had turned  to him, had

actually loved him.

He wondered vaguely what had become of the General after that

last warp.  He'd set the controls so that Maximus would appear somewhere in a rural area about two hours out from Emerald

City, hoping that the man would just be cooperative enough to

die enroute or shortly thereafter.  He had no way to track him

any more.  He'd smashed his fist through the computer that

handled that.

Sid was back to his old self again now.  His face distorted at the

recall of what that had taken.  He'd thought inserting the chip

was all the agony possible.  He had been wrong. The undoing

of that had been...monstrous.  Every single cell in his body that

had become flesh imploded, one by one, their cellular structure collapsing as they were replaced by his original form.  It had

been a long process.  He did not wish to think upon it.

No, he would think upon Cort and Rachel now, he who was so

loved, she whose belly swelled with his seed.  He'd heard the tales

of the scoring of Cort's skull by the robber's bullet, of the killing

of the grizzly with merely a knife.  The man always seemed to

survive, always seemed to be...loved. His face darkened. It was not...right.

He had been playing little games with Terry, Bud, and John

since his return.  They had managed to breach his walls and

make it into an outer section of his hidden compound.    No

matter.  There was nothing important in the area they had

entered.  And now he'd secured that again.  The fools actually

thought they could gain control when his back was turned. He

smiled.  They had no idea, none at all, of the technologies that

lay behind his titanium walls.   And while he'd been...gone...they

had been incompetent enough to let the Feds in, to jeopardize

the portions of NanoCorp that they were aware of.  He chuckled.

They tried so hard to be autonomous, to think they had some say

in matters.  Did they not realize they only existed in this real

world because he had taken the time to see that they did?  Did

they not know they were nothing more than his playthings?

For a while he'd lost sight of that. For a while all he'd wanted

was to love and be loved by Brianna.  But no more.  Maximus

had taken her from him and so he had removed every trace of

Maximus from himself. He was back, fully back, and they were

all just going to have to deal with it.

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

The last bolt fit smoothly into the last hole made for it in the

panel covering the door of the warp-room, a white sheet of

sturdy gypsum that would be covered up with plaster and paint. 

Terry ran his hand over its surface, feeling as if that were not

enough, would never be enough, but pressing the flesh of his

palm to its surface anyway, as if to help seal the dreadful room

by sheer force of will. 

They had closed down the warp, dismantled the computers,

erased every bit they could think of to make the warp a thing

of the past. And the wall had been the final word on the matter. 

For all anyone would ever know, from now on, there was just a

wall in the corridor that people would assume was part of a

section belonging to some other department.  No one would ever

know that it was a room of unbelievable technology, unbelievable

hurt. 

“There, if I so much as see another computer disk with the call

numbers of the warp room on it, I’m going to take it and shove

it down their throats, with vinegar,” muttered Bud, coming up

to stand beside him, to look at the blank wall before them.  He’d

been at the other end of the panel, fastening in the last bolts there.  “Now we make it bright and shiny and forget about it,” he added,

with a grin.

Terry returned the grin, but only by half.  He should have done

this much, much sooner, when they first got back from ‘Gladiator.’

No. Back when he had been pulled. That’s when things all started

to get beyond him, when he should have confronted Sid, once and

for all.  But then, he’d have never pulled Bud, or John, or even

Dino; or gone off to Peru to try and get away, to find some peace somewhere, some sense of independence from the horror that was

Sid.  Would never have  found  an  infuriated  Southern  belle

tangled up in a strange South American thorn bush and have

never invited her back to NanoCorp.  Would never have sent

Rachel off to yet another movie and later realized that there

was hope for what they were doing. 

“You gonna go up and get changed so we can welcome Cort

and Rachel?”  Bud continued to ask.  He was pleased as punch

that the two were returning to Emerald City, pleased that two

people he considered dear friends would be within an eye’s

watch, having spent so much of his time now separate from any influence on what was happening.  He’d hated being left behind

for the Gladiator excursion, hated being on the sidelines of late. 

Terry knew Bud felt that with Cort and Rachel’s return, things

would go back to the way they were, with the added bonus of

never warping again, or dealing with Sid.

That was why the entire warp room was being sealed up; well,

one of the many outstanding reasons, at any rate.  They had

spent a good amount of time after the Federal agents, Fox

Mulder and Dana Scully, had left actually enjoying a sense of

purpose and freedom, without the pall of Sid lurking about, threatening  new  mischief.   Sid  had  disappeared  within

moments after retrieving Maximus; and while their worry over

what had happened to the gladiator still nagged, the four of

them, he, John, Bud and Deidre, realized they should make do

with the time they had, while Sid was preoccupied. Take control,

he had told Deidre.  Sid had to be stopped.  But even while this

was understood, they all became so happily used to the lack of

Sid 6.7, so inured to the idea that he wasn’t making his presence

known, that it had taken a rude shock to bring purposes back

into focus.  Out of the blue, while he and Deidre sat conferring

over plans to take a trip to Montana to visit Cort and Rachel,

Sid’s bluish  face  popped  up on  the monitor on his desk  and

hissed news of his return.

That was two weeks ago, and since that time, he and Bud and

John had been scrambling like mad to think of every means

possible to shut down Sid’s ability to make a physical return. 

If Sid wanted to stay shut up in his little spider-hole, that was

fine.  They had sealed off that access a long time ago.  But now

they dismantled the only warp room they had access to and

destroyed what technology they thought could be resurrected

in the hopes that there would never have to be another retrieval

again.

Never again, Terry swore to the white sheetrock in front of him. 

“Yeah, mate, I need to do that,” he replied, absently, pocketing

his hammer in the tool belt around his waist.  “Need to find

Deidre, too.  Last I saw her, she was on about something to do

with a gift basket.”

“Good.  She’ll have more sense of what to get them than I will. 

I was near to getting them just a bag of potato chips and dip.”

“I’m sure Cort would have loved just a bag of chocolate chip

cookies,” Terry said, as they picked up their tools.  They’d have

some other staff come in to lay the plaster and paint the next day. 

“For a failed debutante, as she puts it, Deidre gets ideas in her

head about proper presentation that make me wonder if she

wasn’t cut out for society after all.”

“Aw, shut up, man.  You love the way she fusses over you,” Bud groused. 

“You should have seen what she tried to make me eat the other

night…” Terry began, as they started back down the hall toward

the elevators. It was approaching the closing hour for the business

office and secretaries, project managers and other clerical staff

were rushing about to deliver final reports and papers before the

end of the day. 

Bud’s cell phone rang.

“They just turned out of the airport and will be home in fifteen

minutes.  See ya later!” Bud announced and turned to walk

briskly to his office at the far end of the complex. 

Terry knew he should speed up the stairwell instead of wait until

the elevator opened, but his mind seemed to want to slow down,

wanted his body to take long cautious steps back to his office. A

nagging feeling had been with him all day, despite the happiness

of their friends’ return.  Maybe it had to do with the fact that

Cort and Rachel’s own happiness at finding a place to live in

Montana had been severely marred by wild nature; maybe it had

to do with the fact that despite the assurances of the medical laboratories, and even Henry Dawson’s meticulous watchfulness

while he was here, the idea of using the nanoblood now gave him

pause for thought. 

He shrugged off this feeling as he stepped into the lounge area

of the fourth floor, where his secretary greeted him with a good-

bye for the day.  Another turn and he could see the door to his

office standing wide open and hear music playing on the stereo. 

Deidre was back from delivering the gift basket and probably

pacing the floor to hear from Cort and Rachel.

Maybe he had done all he could and just needed to pay attention

to the nicer things of life.  Like Nolia.

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

Rachel climbed the steps slowly, taking in everything. Because

it was owned by NanoCorp, nothing had been left unkempt or unmanaged, with the azalea bushes trimmed and the porches

swept.  Even the hanging baskets looked as though they had been

well taken care of.  But the azalea blooms were long gone now,

and the heat of summer well entrenched.  Cicadas were making

their slow rattle and a mockingbird flew into the yard, cocking

its head to check out the intruders.  Apparently she had claimed

the house as her territory.

They were met with an immaculately kept room and a very large cellophane basket of goodies, along with a bottle of sparkling

apple cider.  Rachel laughed as she picked up the note that stood propped next to it.

“Its from Terry, Dee, Bud, and John,” she called out, as Cort took

their belongings into the back room.  She looked at the contents: crackers, summer sausage, cheese, nuts, cookies; all manner of

goodies to tide them over until they got settled in.  She then

stepped into the kitchen and found the refrigerator filled with

more goods.  A post-it on the door of the freezer also showed signs

of their friends’ thoughtfulness.

“I think they’re all glad we’re here,” she told Cort as he came

back into the room.  She showed him the basket.  “Weren’t they

sweet?”

"Oooo," he said, poking his fingers through the cellophane and

coming out with a cookie.  He took a large bite. "It's good," he

said, "but not as good as the ones you make."  He did muchly

prefer his cookies warm and soft from the oven.

"Come," he said, going to the couch and patting the seat beside

him. "Tell me what you're thinking, what you're really feeling

about being back here."

"Like I've traveled a winding road that had far too many bumps

and bridges and I am back to where it all began.  Good.  I feel

very good," she replied, settling into the overstuffed cushions and tucking into the now familiar crook of his arm.  Her hands felt

the piping on the edges of the couch - she remembered how a

certain night began, a sleeping Cort stretched out, a dim room,

air charged with  anticipation.   She smiled up at him again. 

"How about you?"

"Pretty good," he replied, playing with her fingers. "Being here

again  with you, with  both  of you,"  he  lightly  touched her

rounding belly, "I think it's the right thing for us now. More'n

anything I want to see that you and the baby are taken care of.

Most important thing there is."  He looked around the room.

"And I've got good memories here."  He grinned, patting the

couch.  "Especially here. Oh, and...there." He pointed toward

the bedroom. "And out there." He nodded toward the main

door. "Figure we can make some more along the way. Just so's

I'm with you, everything's ok."

"Mmmmm, I do remember, yes," she grinned.  She fell silent,

resting her head so that she could stare at his profile, enjoy the

quiet moment.  The clock on the white painted mantel clicked

away, as steady as everything else about this place.  It occurred

to her that in this moment, in this house, they were, at last, just

the two of them.  No Henri nearby, although God bless him,

she'd never resent his presence; no friends hovering, no staff

down the hall or right outside, no feeling as if they were always

just beyond someone's reach.  Even in Montana, they were living

on borrowed space.  Here in this house, though, she had felt

Cort's company entirely hers, without interruption, without

condition.   She didn't think she  could  voice that without

sounding petulant or ungrateful, but in soaking up the sweet

odors and surroundings of the blue cottage, Rachel knew that

moments like this were precious, indeed; especially with a baby

on  the  way.   She put  her hand  up on  his chest, where it

belonged.  Tucked away.

ON TO PART 2

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