There were times when Ralph felt weightless, as if there was nothing around him except for water. Deep water. The kind that had no current, no pull. Just a buoyancy that you didn't notice or fight ... you just accepted it.

It was during weightlessness that he could forget everything but what was in the here and now. It was his own manner, learned over years, of focusing on only what he could do anything about ... everything else was too heavy to be weightless so it dropped far away from him.

He wondered to himself when he'd entered into the weightlessness on this occasion. Was it when he had turned to look at the stable as Cort drove away because Max had asked, from the floor of the back seat where he hid beside Stephen's legs, if their neighbor had agreed to come watch after the horses? Because in that question, delivered in a monotone, he read many untold things from his boss.

Ralph read that Max knew he'd made arrangements for while they'd been gone. And that meant Max had known, even before he'd asked, that Ralph was planning to go with them to France. And that meant that Max was prepared for Ralph to make other decisions about the farm. And it also meant that Max was focusing on this small thing because he did not need to voice that he was facing not being around again to watch over the details at the farm.

No, Ralph shook his head. No, he hadn't really thought Max knew then that he might not go back to the farm. No, he was changing his own memory to account for how things felt now, now that they were headed back to the States but not back to the farm.

So it wasn't likely he'd gone weightless then, Ralph thought to himself. 

Maybe it was when he'd cradled the gun Cullen passed to him, as they prepared to assault the building in France. He remembered quite clearly that it had struck him that he alone among all the others there did not know either John or Clarity Biebe, whom they were there to rescue. So in many ways, he was alone in his motivations.

Ralph had come to help Max. He had come to stand with Hando. He had come to see through what he'd been a part of months earlier, when the farm had been taken over by Luke Ferris and his men. He had done then what needed doing to save his, Hando's and Ann's lives ... and to drive away from the farm the harm that had been visited on it.

The farm ... it was his sacred place in ways he did not share with others. He could never see leaving it. It was all he had left of her. It had been important to her and he felt an obligation to her to watch over it, to care for those who took shelter there just like she did once.

No, I was jittery when Cullen handed me the gun, Ralph thought, remembering the way he had to force his heart to stop racing at the sudden hard realization that he was yet again engaged in a military-type operation that would require skills of death he wished had not affected him as they had, had not taken him over for a while in his life.

So when was it he went weightless?

The memory flashed over him ... and he remembered without really intending to.

It had been when Max had lowered himself to one knee in the garden, hunching low and covering his eyes with one hand in an intimate reaction to the news delivered not too long before by Terry Thorne. When Ralph had stood on the gravel road and just watched him in the distance, refusing to interrupt Max's private moment to gather himself. Looking back on the sight of his proud friend, Ralph realized that was when his own reaction had been to drop into weightlessness and begin to focus on nothing but what needed doing to follow Max into hell if he had to.

He remembered Terry coming later to stand near him. Ralph did not know what exactly to make of Terry Thorne but he did trust him. He saw in him the sort of man he had known in his days as a Ranger in Special Forces. A man with deadly skills and the ability to judge when to use them and then to use them without hesitation or remorse. But also a man not always quite as sure in his own emotional life. That's the thing with warriors, it seemed to Ralph. They were better with the clear cut choices you got in a battle than they were with the fuzzy rainbow of choices you had when dealing with purely emotional and personal relationships.

Terry had said quietly, "He trusts you. Don't let him down. He needs you more now than ever before. Dino will go with you but he will need you to help him with Max."

"Hando will be with us, too."

"I don't trust Hando for this, Ralph. I am trusting you. Got me?"

"What is it you're afraid of, Terry? He will rip them apart until he finds her. And they deserve it ... I won't get in his way on that score."

"You know what I'm asking you, Ralph. Don't be cute because you're too ugly to pull it off, mate. Restrain him when it's the right thing to do. Don't let him sacrifice himself unnecessarily. That's what I mean. He'll listen to you even if he doesn't seem to. I've watched how he is with you."

"This will destroy him ... if he loses her ... if he loses them."

"Then make sure that doesn't happen."

Terry turned to head back into the chateau. He felt the weight of the day shoving him down, as if gravity had grown stronger since the day before when they'd been heading for France. As if the twin spectacles were under the earth he walked over ... reaching up with tentacles that latched around his ankles and pulled him down, slowing his steps, making him feel as if he was slogging along.

How could this be coming to this, he thought to himself, shielding his eyes as he looked toward the road, just to be looking somewhere.

Things were already so bad before the phone call from Paul about a half hour ago. The night before, when they had first arrived in France, they had been spectacularly fucked over by Sid ... they did not know why yet, but Sid had used them to assault the lab where Clarity and Biebe had been held ... and then Sid had led the people in the lab out, helping them escape ... and had taken Biebe and Clarity with them in the process.

When he got his fingers on Sid, Terry thought darkly, there would not be enough silicon in the world to help him.

So they had lost the opportunity they had to get Biebe and Clarity back, Terry thought. Immediately, they'd interrogated the people they'd captured in the lab and on the chateau's grounds ... the scientists and security guys ... and found out only one really useful piece of information: two of them had overheard Sid telling one of the Mephisto owners that Sid had a secondary lab set up and that this was where he would take them all so they could continue their scientific research.

So Terry and Dino had rushed their research staff into action, to begin pouring over all records that may lead them toward finding where Sid may have gone.

And as they'd waited, all of them who come on the assault, just waiting for his staff to come through ... they'd been trying not to but still it was difficult not to let worry consume them ... worry over what was being done or had been done to Biebe and Clarity.

It was as if someone knew that ... knew they were on their knees over what had just happened. And that is when Paul called with the news that they could not find Ann ... that they felt she'd been taken.

Terry had immediately issued orders to Paul to make sure the other women took serious precautions. He'd just been about to call back to his people and get them to send out contract operatives to each family, especially the women who were alone, to be armed and ready to repel any other kidnapping attempts.

But Maximus had overheard the conversation.

Maximus had insisted on getting the news straight between the eyes and that's how Terry gave it to him. Frankly, it's how he would have wanted it if anything happened to Gaia ... His thoughts instantly flashed to her ... and he was relieved that he'd thought ahead to have Leon watching over her while he was gone.

Terry walked into the open door of the chateau and walked swiftly through two rooms before reaching the one where he'd been pacing when Paul had called earlier. He reached to pick up his jacket and phone, which he'd left where he'd thrown it many hours earlier.

He was facing the window and in the act of calling his people to arrange for more security for those in the family who would need it now. As he talked, he watched below ... Uma down there, amongst the larger group gathered on the veranda ... Jack Aubrey, Stephen Maturin, Cort, Nash. He knew Cullen had been in the lab, reviewing everything left behind just in case they'd missed something. Dino was no doubt off somewhere else inside the chateau, his phone to his ear, seeing to the details in the efficient way he had.

Turning back toward the door as he finished his conversation, Terry felt a déjà vu moment ... of turning to face Maximus to deliver the bad news about Ann. Of watching, intently, as it sunk in and as Maximus tried in vain to hide behind stoicism in the moments that followed.

Maximus had seemed to sway, ever so slightly. Something dark came over him ... something of the gladiator, the efficient killing machine, devoid of soul or heart and intent on only one thing: delivering death. And then he turned on his heel.

Terry had followed behind him, unsure what Maximus had it in his mind to do but certain someone had to calm him down. Knowing his history, of the loss of his first family, and knowing what it might do to him to have Ann and their unborn child perhaps about to meet a similar fate ... knowing that the first twin losses had sent Maximus chasing not just revenge but also death, Terry feared a reaction so extreme it would destroy what little cohesion this group of rescuers had at the moment.

His mind was racing, even as he trudged behind Maximus, telling him they must work together on this as well, that they should immediately get with those left behind in the States to get them working on this if they were not already, that now was not the time to lose their heads when the entire group was depending on them.

Inside one of the larger rooms on the ground floor, Maximus had rounded on him.

"I have not lost my head. What do you take me for?" Maximus had growled, half turned toward him, his entire body ready to strike out.

"I take you for a man who's just found out the woman he loves is in danger but who needs to be cool, right now, Maximus ... cool and not go running off and ..."

"And what? What exactly will the brilliant and rational Terrence Thorne do in this instance, were he where I am?" Maximus said, his eyes glinting as he advanced on Terry. "Oh. Wait. I seem to recall that the great Terrence Thorne may not have much experience with allowing himself to love a woman enough to let her be dependent on his protection ... to exist for him alone."

Even knowing Maximus was making him out to be a convenient target when the real target of his rage was not within striking distance, Terry was not going to back down. "Mate, I am not the enemy. You have got to think this through or else ... or else we're all going to lose."

Maximus struck so quickly and with such brutality that Terry had not braced himself to absorb it, even as he saw it coming. Terry felt Max's hand go around his throat, pull up with his brute force until Terry was on the balls of his feet, his hands on Max's wrist, struggling for air, watching as blind fury veiled Max's eyes.

"I have thought this through ... I will kill them all," Maximus said. "And you will not stand in my way."

Uma had somehow felt the disturbance between them and come looking. Terry heard her scream out for the others ... and he heard footsteps ... and felt as someone, perhaps Cort, tried to pull on Max ... to no avail.

They were eye to eye now ... Terry felt heat coming off Max in waves and read within his eyes that there was a struggle inside Max between desperation and control.

"I'm not the enemy," Terry choked out as someone was pulling on Max's arm but doing little other than jerking Terry around.

"You stand in my way and you become the enemy in this moment," Max grated out between clenched teeth ... but his fingers were no longer digging into Terry's throat quite as hard.

"Why do you think they took her? Don't you think it's just possible this is what they had in mind ... that they wanted to neutralize you? The great Maximus ... on his knees ... running around chasing ghosts like a madman?" Terry had forced out. "You'd give them that satisfaction?"

Maximus had eased his grip, and Terry knew his words were making an impression.

"You do that, mate, and she's got no hope at all, does she now?"

"Max, let him go ... we can't turn on each other ... not now," Uma said, her voice now so close. In Terry's tunnel vision, he saw her smaller, slim hand touch Max's face. And saw Max's eyes turn toward her. There was a moment when it was as if an invisible current passed between them. The anger subsided in an instant.

It was over even before Maximus released him.

There was silence in the room. Maybe they were all afraid to break it.

But then Uma did and maybe it was because someone had to or time might have run out. She said, "Maximus, what has happened?"

"Mephisto has taken Anna from where I had sent her for safekeeping. Our battle is now on two fronts," Max had replied, his voice low.

Terry heard the lethal tone and something told him, Max was gaining control.

"What are we going to do about it?" Ralph had asked, his solid voice breaking across the tightness in the spirits on the room as they all absorbed just how overwhelming the odds had become.

How would they contain this, Terry thought to himself, his hand rubbing his neck. He looked at Dino, standing in the far doorway, observing. In the silent exchange, they read each other ... and knew instantly what would have to happen. "The pilot awake yet?" he asked Dino.

"I'll make the call ... we'll have the jet ready as soon as possible," Dino said firmly, already turning and digging his phone out of his jacket.

"I shall need only a small detail with me. I know where they are ... those who have ordered this. I will handle them ... Thorne, you will remain here with the others and carry on as planned in the rescue of the Biebe's and the apprehension of Sid and the others who took them. We will decide later what to do with them," Maximus grunted, always the military mind as his place of comfort. "I will handle the others who threaten us, who have no doubt ordered these actions against us. Those in Mephisto who have touched Anna will pay. And their payment shall include the destruction of their ability to ever threaten any of us again. You have my word on that."

He had walked past Terry then ... and headed out of the chateau ... and walked until he stood alone in the garden, far from the building, his back to anyone who might have watched him.

Terry had looked around at those in the room with him, took in the sag in their shoulders, the blank looks in their faces. "They just made the worst mistake they could have," he said to them. "We are going to take them all down. Are we all agreed?"

"Let's lose not a minute," Jack Aubrey said, softly, deadly, his eyes now coming to meet Terry's and there was a sharp bloodthirstiness there that Terry had not seen before. "This is our family. These are our lives. We will never surrender."

Ralph moved away from the group, heading in the direction that Maximus had taken. Cort asked if the need for communications security had eased ... if he could call in, check on his family, alert Bou, brief Balthasar and Vercingetorix who guarded those most precious to him ... Bou and Faith.

Terry had nodded and said to just remember the calls may be monitored so to not give away any of their plans. What difference did it make now if Sid or Mephisto knew they were worried about those at home?

Dino returned, giving Terry the update that the pilot would be ready to go in two hours. Terry had told him that Max would need one of them with him ... meaning either him, Dino or Cullen ... and that of the three, Dino was the one that needed to go. If there was to be a hostage retrieval, it had to be one of them ... and if any of them were to have the chance to keep Maximus from letting his rage control him rather than controlling his rage, Dino was most likely to have that influence over Maximus.

And then Terry had followed Ralph's path, wanting to check on Maximus, needing to be reassured that Maximus was going to be capable of leading the complimentary effort against Mephisto.

Now as he looked about the room and thought about what was ahead and what was at stake, Terry felt the veil as he let it flutter into place around him, the weight of it coating him, protecting him as it always did in times like this when emotion was a luxury he would not indulge in.

The endeavor in France now depended on Terry's leadership ... and he was ready.

The fingertips of her right hand rested atop marble. It was cool. Smooth. That should have been all she noticed.

And it was ... for a few moments.

But just as her thoughts strayed to Andy, far away from her, staying with Jeff somewhere but not at the rooms above the Come On In, that was when it happened.

What had been nothing but a blank, cool smoothness suddenly came to life beneath the whorls of her fingerprints.

The last person who'd touched this marble mantle in the room ... she could picture his hand there so clearly. Jack ... 'sweetheart' ... wanting only to hear Angel's voice.

Uma's eyes opened. Andy ... Jeff ... Bud ... Steve ... Something ... if she could just bring it into focus ...

And that was when it dawned on her.

She grabbed her hand back from where she'd been resting it, steadying herself as she thought about how much was going wrong ... as if her world was dissolving around her and she could not stop it.

Walking briskly now, she descended the stairs she'd first seen the night before, the ones they'd taken up from the lab, up into the chateau that they'd taken over as their base of operations as they waited on some lead to where Sid had set up another lab.

Inside the lab, she turned in a circle and looked around.

"Something I can help you with, darlin'?" Cullen asked her, coming into the room where Uma stood. His voice was like slinky jersey, gliding over the air.

"Where did they keep them? John, I mean ... where did they have him?" Uma asked him, speaking quickly, barely breathing.

Cullen frowned, looked over his shoulder then back at her. "You don't want to have that memory and I ..."

But his look back ... he'd given her the clue she needed. She brushed past him and went into the room he'd just come from.

There was an exam table there, padded mat on top of steel. She felt drawn to it and so she went to stand next to it, slowly but firmly placing both palms atop it.

For long minutes, Cullen stood in the doorway and just watched her.

"It's them, you see," she said at some point, almost a whisper, as if it was a secret for Cullen alone. "It's not you, no offense, but it's them. It centers on them and that can't be explained but it is what it is."

"Whatever you say, Uma," Cullen said softly, now coming into the room but stopping when she turned her head to look at him.

"Something is happening to them all but they don't all feel it. And I don't know what I feel but I feel something and I know ..."

"What do you know?"

"I know where they are. Or at least, I have clues to where Sid is."

Emilien Loriebat, PhD, watched his assistants work on the body lying on the exam table, identified in his reports as "Subject A." He knew that there was now a "Subject B" somewhere in another lab in the United States, an unborn baby carried by a human woman. He wished he could have been part of that project too, but he couldn't be in two places at the same time. He had started on this one, and there was so much more this body had yet to tell him.  He hoped there would soon be Subjects C, D, and more so they could compare the tests. The more of them they could study, the faster they would find the very essence of their difference and learn their secrets.

Subject A hadn't been cooperative at all when they had caught him and they had had to sedate him right away so they could do what they had to do silently, quickly and smoothly, without leaving any trace.  They were now keeping him in that half consciousness state, as long as it was possible.  They needed to run the basic tests again, in order to check for any possible change since the last time they had done them.

The first time they had captured him, a few months ago, it had been a little easier, because he seemed to be in shock then. It was not particularly him that they wanted, but he was the only one left of those clones that man Levon had told them about.

Loriebat thought back to that first time, when he had been rushed into action to examine this Subject A. It had been several months ago. He had been working with a rather ragtag group of other researchers who were, like him, pressed into service - but it had always been Loriebat who had been in charge.

They hadn't had time enough then to learn all they needed. The more they had learned about him, the more they wanted to know. It had been a fascinating experience! Still was. The results were amazing. And what they learned was that that Subject A, like all the others, might very well be not a clone as they thought they all were, but... a time-traveller.

Although this thought at the same time disturbed and excited Loriebat's scientific mind, over the course of the intervening months when he had had more time for research, it had changed something deep inside him and now he was full of "what if" hypotheses. His employers had seemed to be happy and eager to know more, too. But could their desire "to know and prove" ever match his? Loriebat thought this was not a scientific probability.   

At the very beginning, he didn't even know his employers' faces, names or even the sound of their voices. He just knew that they called themselves "Mephisto Corporation" and were involved in computer games. Well, he thought with a sharp wince, his work had certainly nothing to do with games, it was serious matter, and could change the future of humanity... and, more importantly, his own.

His employers had hired him through a third party and since then, their orders had come to him through emails signed simply with the letters "MCo" ... no person's name and no logo. His "salary" was transferred anonymously to a secret account in a Swiss bank. This was an ideal situation for a man of Dr. Loriebat's nature - it gave him the purity of scientific research without the onsite interference of lesser commoners concerned only with commercial success. He knew all he needed to know about his employers: they paid his bills, they gave him free rein as long as he would reach the goal. Their goal was to find out the secrets held within the body of this subject. That was fine as that would bring him to his real goal. At least, they agreed on that:  only the results counted. They were nothing to him other than a way to get what he really wanted. And it was not money. Well, not only. Money was an accessory that enabled him to proceed with the work and life he wanted but this was far and away about something else he wanted from this. He was after fame.

All his life, he had been chasing after the singular scientific discovery that would get him out of the crowd of ordinary and anonymous researchers. And here it was and he could feel it.

This was the state he had entered over the intervening months. He had had plenty of mental time to think about what this research could mean to him if it was successful as he was setting up his new lab, the one that was so well hidden near where the Mephisto people learned that Subject A was engaging in real estate negotiations.

And now, here he was, in a second lab having had to flee barbarians overrunning his beautiful lab! But this, too, was a good lab, he had to grudgingly admit, though not as singular of purpose as his was. Still, at first, they had left him to resume his work on Subject A. He was certain his immortal scientific fame was lurking somewhere in the body restrained on this exam table before him now, in its blood, its cells, its DNA. It was almost within his reach. Soon. Very soon. He would find it, even if he had to cut it into millions of micro pieces and analyse each of them for what he sought to conquer.

The only problem was ... to his angry frustration, the free hand he'd been promised with Subject A was now being limited. He was told he could do whatever it took ... but since coming to this second lab, it seemed his plans were being changed. Loriebat was very unsatisfied with that. This was the second time Mephisto had frustrated his pure research.

Loriebat remembered how frustrated he had been a few months ago, when, at the precise time when they were starting to get the first significant results, he had received the order to release the subject and to simply let him go... with his secret. Loriebat had been reluctant to do so but his employers had reassured him that he would be able to go on with the research later, with this one or another one like him.

At the moment when Mephisto said that Subject A and the woman who had been found with him had to be released, they informed him that a mysterious ally had the method that would make sure these two would not remember their time with Loriebat and the other researchers.

Mephisto had assured him that the mysterious ally also knew more than he was willing to say about these time travellers. But one thing he would share was this technique he would employ to essentially erase the memories of their time in the lab from Subject A and the woman. Apparently, it all amounted to some advanced brain scan technology that manipulated their synapses about this lost time, which would confuse their memories to the point that when released, their real memories would be mixed wholesale with imaginary, implanted memories of events. It would be done with such artistry, Mephisto had told him, that the couple would in fact put all these jumbled images down to one very simple, rational explanation: that it had all been a dream. All of it.

Loriebat was not convinced and opted to covertly observe their interactions with others from the village where they were staying and where they had been subsequently released back into society. From those observations he made at that time, it had seemed to work. Mostly with the man. The woman had doubts, he could tell from his stalking observations, but who cared about the woman? One word from him and she would not have been a problem anymore.

Once he was satisfied that Subject A and the woman did not have the ability to track him and his work, he was told by Mephisto that his next chance ... and the one that would really count as he would be able to have the time he needed ... would be coming soon. He was told to keep his lab hidden from any outsiders, but to use these months to more fully equip it as he desired, choose the proper assistants, set up the protocol in the appropriate manner. They had been very definitive about that one restriction on secrecy: his work should not attract attention. Not then. Not until proof and the ability to replicate the man's secret had been made possible by Loriebat's work.

After that, he had had to wait for a few more months, trying to stay patient by setting up his lab as he liked it, going on analyzing and dissecting the results of the tests they had already done on Subject A. Until his next chance arrived again.

She had never been a person with any measure of sixth sense. When others said they could feel a bad atmosphere in a place or had feelings of déjà vu or mentioned some acquaintance only to find them knocking on their door a while later, Uma had always dismissed their claims as just fanciful talk. There was such a thing as coincidence and that is all it was. Superstition and heightened awareness, people with an ability to see the future or any supernatural explanation had simply made her smile and shake her head. There was nothing in this world but this world, she always believed in her down-to-earth rational manner.

Until she had met Maximus. On that fateful day, all her certainties had been blown sky high. A man had crossed time and reality to appear before her as solid flesh and bone. He had melted her brittle career girl heart and swept her away, forever changed. And even more fantastical, it had not been the end of the matter, but merely the beginning of the wildest of rides and the most unbelievable of discoveries that was still to come for her.

She was somehow the catalyst who had drawn these incredible men from a celluloid reality in which their presence had been so powerfully intense that some spark had ignited from the performances of an acting genius to make screen life come to real life. A quickening had occurred of incredible and inexplicable magnitude that still blew her mind when she tried to take it in. Into her humdrum, busy, highly stressful life had walked men who had changed her for all time. But not just men. Slowly but surely had come a succession of attractive, spirited,  intelligent women, drawn in their own mysterious way to the same wellspring, as important in the whole bizarre miracle as the original Crowe men themselves.

Uma staggered back to sit on a chair in the lab. She felt suddenly very weary, energy draining from her, lights dancing before her vision as if she were about to faint. She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself; Cullen knelt beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

There was something disturbingly familiar about the moment that immediately nagged at her. Déjà vu, feelings and memories colliding and flooding through her. She had to make sense of it all or she felt at that moment that she would go insane.

All at once she knew without a single doubt that she had to go back and recall that long ago time when it had all began, let the intervening years fall away until she was once more there on the unforgettable day when she had found him. Or he had found her.

Had she ever really got to grips with what had actually taken place? Or why? Or how? It had seemed so unbelievable at the time that she had dismissed it as impossible to fathom and eventually given up asking the whys and wherefores, just accepting the fact that this bizarre thing happened and trying to treat it as ordinary life. But the current nightmarish predicament seemed to be telling her that perhaps she had missed something highly significant all those years ago. July 2000. Six years ago now. She had been twenty nine, a hassled young teacher in a girls' independent school, unfulfilled, beginning to feel time passing her by, watching her youth slip through her fingers and still no nearer knowing what she really wanted from life. Why them? Who had made the choice that she and her friend had to be the ones that the men came to?  There had to be a reason it had been her and Heather. She had to find out and quick. The lives of them all - and their women and children - might now depend on it...

...It had been a dogshit of a day already and it was still only half over. The annual Events' day at her school had always been one that she had dreaded, not being a teacher of the overly 'gung ho' type. The drill was that after the exams were over and the summer term was drawing to a close, each class got to make a visit with their form teacher to some place of interest which had educational value, although the day was primarily supposed to be meant for enjoyment, a reward to all for another year of study successfully completed.

Uma did not like organizing children outside of the premises of the school. She enjoyed her job mostly, tolerated teenagers on the whole, occasionally quite liked them - but never in a social sense. Nine to four in the classroom, dispensing the fruits of her academic knowledge was one thing, but on a coach full of overexcited twelve year olds who insisted on gorging themselves on junk food from the moment the engine was switched on, jumping up and down to blaring pop music and shouting at a decibel level that was off the scale was not her drug of choice. Added to that the fact that, her least favourite pupil, the incredibly obnoxious Katie O' Connor, had already thrown up on her lap just as they had been pulling into the car park forcing her to have to buy a new pair of jeans in a shop in Chester while the other staff members had offloaded the barbarian horde from the coach because of the smell of vomit that was making everyone else nauseous, including herself. She was already fifty quid out of pocket on this one.

Then, when they had entered the relatively safely confined space of the Deva Roman Experience Interactive Museum, that damned Katie had managed to fall into one of the Roman shop houses and knock over the exhibits . The Museum people had blamed Uma, the teacher in charge, accusing her of not supervising her charges  properly and now she had to keep the little bastard Katie by her side all day, as if the kid hadn't given her enough problems already.

So they had done the Museum tour, been taken round the ongoing archaeological site that adjoined it and  were now in the company of a Roman soldier with red dreadlocks who looked more like he had infiltrated the XXth Victrix legion from some nearby hostile British tribe. He was also trying to get off with Lowri Turner, the young Food Technology teacher who had somehow found herself on this particular visit and it appeared that his interest was reciprocated. This young soldier, called Mick apparently - so typically Roman, hey? - had been walking them round the streets pointing out the Roman legacy in Chester.

Whilst 'Mick' was explaining the meaning of the monument to Nemesis found in the small amphitheatre that lay in the centre of town (with a ring road incongruously around it), Uma realized that the little bugger Katie had disappeared again. Leaving the rest to 'Simply Red the Centurion' and 'little Miss Homemaker Turner', contemplating for the umpteenth time why Nemesis had decided that it was her fate to spend her life herding horrible children for her sins, Uma had set off in search of her lost sheep, running down into the area beneath the arena, most of which was cordoned off to the public but where she suspected the damn child would have gone.

How had she known Katie would be there? Had it just been a sixth sense drawing her inexorably to him or had it merely been a teacher's intuition that kids normally choose the most dangerous and unsuitable place in which to disappear?

In fact Katie O'Connor had not been there. The stupid girl had slipped off to buy an ice cream and rejoined the party moments after Uma had left. Instead Uma had stumbled across a man slumped against a wall just round a bend in the narrow corridor, his head sunk down buried in his hands, his legs drawn up in a foetal position. He had been naked.

"Jesus Christ!" Uma exclaimed. The man startled, his head shooting up at the same time as his hands dropped to cover his groin. Even then Uma thought he looked very familiar, even as she backed away from him, ready to scream for help at having found some crazy pervert exposing himself down there in the bowels of an ancient arena.

"Please! Do not be afraid...I mean no harm...!" the man muttered in a deep rumbling burr. His voice was cracked and raw as if he hadn't used it for a long time or he was parched and dry. She had noticed then that his face was badly bruised, there was blood streaked on his chest and legs and that he looked hollow faced and grey, deep rings beneath his eyes. This man had suffered some injury.

After her initial shock, Uma found herself losing her fear almost immediately. She could not understand why but she had a very strong sense that this man was not dangerous but rather that he needed her. In an instant she knew that she had been meant to find him and that everything that had occurred that day had happened only to bring her to him. Uma had no idea how she knew this with such certainty, but was totally convinced that it had been fated. What had made her so sure, based on such little evidence? She was hardly a woman ever to give into to arbitrary feelings. It simply wasn't in her nature. She was fairly cynical, even a little jaded about life some might say, and usually shunned overly-emotional responses to events.

But she couldn't get past the man's eyes. There was a world inside his eyes that drew her immediately to him. They seemed to be doors to his soul, to another dimension where even she could see depths of pain and suffering beyond anything she had ever imagined. Her hand reached out to him, the first human touch, an instinctive act of consolation. As her cool fingers pressed against the warm vital flesh of his naked shoulder, a flash of images shattered in her mind. She saw blood, terrible sights of war and brutality, the body of a regal white haired old man, the mutilated and burned corpses of a woman and child hanging from a porch in some ancient villa, burning sun, screaming crowds, an amphitheatre on a hot afternoon, its sand running with freshly shed blood... an owl perched on a piece of wood before taking flight and coming right toward her ... startling her and she stepped back from the man, losing touch with his skin.

A few weeks before Uma had seen a film that she had expected to dislike but which had instead left an indelible impression on her. It had been on her mind for weeks ever since. But why had the film images come to her again so vividly on touching this man who even now was staring up at her mournfully, still and quiet, almost accepting of his fate?

There was something not quite right about the images either. She hadn't been recalling actual scenes from the film 'Gladiator' but it was as if she had been seeing the events solely through the eyes of the lead protagonist, Maximus, the Roman general who had become a slave, the slave who had become a gladiator. How strange. She had been inside his eyes.

Inside his eyes.

What was going on?

"Oh Lord...it cannot be...you cannot be him...there must be some mistake! Am I dreaming? Maximus...?"

"...You know my name? Please...help me...I do not know where I am...! I thought I was dead...but I opened my eyes and I was here in this place...But where am I? Who are you? Is this Elysium...?"

"...I know where they are, Cullen. I can see it all in my head. But I can't explain it...they're just strong images.... I need Maximus, Cullen... I think it will be clearer when he is with me. It's something to do with us both when we are together.... It wasn't ever just me... It wasn't just him... It is when we are together. It creates a force like an entity that opens the way for the rest... I know it sounds incredible and I don't even know why I am so sure that I am right. But I know it's true. It's why we could never be together and live a normal life as we wanted to... I did love him so much, you know? And he loved me too... But we hurt each other all the time. I never understood why. But now I do. There was too much energy, you see... It got in the way. We were the fire - and we both got burned..."

Cullen frowned, bewildered by her odd stream of consciousness delivery. He guessed she was talking about her long ago affair with Maximus. It was a well known secret even if no one discussed it much. Uma seemed suddenly very upset and heartbreakingly fragile, confused and making little sense - but he had a feeling that what she was saying to him was very, very important. Uma was the one who could solve this if she could break through and truly get in touch with her inner self where the secret to it all had to lie. "You're doing fine, Uma, me love...let's get back to the others and we'll find a way together to free what's in your mind...Have you ever been hypnotized? I've seen it done and I think maybe if we could get you under, we might be able to find a few answers...it's all there, darlin'. In your head somewhere...you and Maximus...you're the keys..."

Dr. Loriebat had instantly felt a kinship with Adam Link when he arrived, sent by Mephisto to be onsite at the lab once they re-obtained Subject A. However, when later he met this odd man named Sid, who was introduced to him and his research team as the mysterious ally who'd helped manipulate the memories of Subject A and his woman all those months ago ... well, he had not liked Sid. Not one little bit.

Sid obviously fancied himself a scientist. Dr. Loriebat sniffed at the very idea.

However, what really set him against this Sid was one thing: he interfered with Dr. Loriebat's plans for Subject A.

Adam had told Loriebat not to worry, and he had given him his most disdainful smile. Of course he was worrying ... this was his lab! That's what he was paid for, the lab work and nothing else. That's what he was good at, what he loved doing. It was the others' job to take care of security and all the material details so he could work peacefully and efficiently, with all the necessary means to complete his research. And, to be honest, he had had nothing to complain about. This lab was the best and most advanced one he had ever been offered to play in.

The only time he had to complain began with Sid's arrival. That was when things changed and when Loriebat began to feel he was competing for primacy in his own lab.

This was his big chance, Loriebat thought to himself, now that he had been re-established from his first lab and into this second one.

And this big chance was hidden somewhere in this naked body hooked to this cutting edge technology, it was what it was all about. The equipment was registering all of Subject A's records, through each heart beat, each breath, each drop of body fluid. All Loriebat had to do was to extract his mystery from Subject A. And he would. Sooner or later.

Better be sooner though. He knew that once more, their time was counted. Someone was after them ... still. Or so had he been told.

They had been hastily evacuated from the first lab and brought here as gunfire chased them from their once-bright haven of research. And here, Loriebat and his assistants had presumed they had found a new haven, one that was impregnable from further interference.

Alas, it was not to be, they were told by Adam and Sid. No, as it turned out, time was even more urgent ... they were not sure how long they would stay ahead of their barbaric pursuers. No doubt, they were being pursued by either rival business interests or one of those holier-than-thou, anti-stem cell research activist groups who loved to harass and intimidate pure scientific research such as this, Loriebat conjectured.

The move to this new lab had upset him first. He had prepared and installed the first one to fit his needs and liking. This one was less convenient and comfortable, lost in the middle of that smelly and wet area. But they had been close to losing it all. They had saved some of the project, so far, losing some computer data and notes but they still had Subject A and therefore could go on working, that was the only thing that counted. Besides, he just had had to ask for what was missing and he oddly got it all rather fast.

But he didn't like that they had had to raise the doses of sedative to keep Subject A perfectly under control during the transportation. They had had to wait for his body to get rid of part of it to a reasonable level, so it wouldn't skew the result of some of the tests. It was another loss of time. But they couldn't have taken the risk to have him agitated again. That was also not good for the tests.

They would have to slow down the sedatives to almost nothing very soon, when they would start the tests involving the measuring of his reactions to various more or less unpleasant stimulations, physical and mental ones. They would have to be very careful and ask for the help of some strong goons Mephisto had sent to them for security. Just in case.

They already had had a reaction from him, a violent and unexpected one, to the stimulus of his woman's name when someone came in to tell them that they had caught her, too.

As if Loriebat and his team cared about this human woman! 

The result of that unneeded information was that Subject A, in spite of his still half-conscious state, had almost managed to free himself then, and had even head-butted one of his assistants who was trying to calm him down, before falling back to sleep, while muttering inaudible words, under the effect of powerful sedatives they had to inject him again in a haste.

Another annoying loss of time! 

That poor fool of an assistant's nose had been bleeding like a pig everywhere in the lab and they had had to clean and sterilise everything again. Such a disgrace! And of course, the consequence of this little demonstration was that the tests that had been running then had been skewed, first by the sudden acceleration of Subject A's heartbeat, then by that new heavy dose of sedative. They also had had to hook Subject A again to most of the equipment monitoring his vitals.

That man was certainly able to fight when he put his mind into it, but he was no match to the formidable power of science... and its drugs. No one could fight against science.

At least, this wouldn't happen again. The professor had gone out of the exam room and had given orders to get rid of that woman, for good. But he had been answered then that the woman had been brought to another part of the lab.

This was when Loriebat had been introduced to their odd ally Sid.

Adam had said that Sid was taking control of the experiments on the human woman. As far as Loriebat was concerned, they could have all the fun and do whatever they wanted with her, as it would occupy Sid and leave him alone with his precious Subject A.

Loriebat stepped closer to the exam table where Subject A was restrained before him. The assistants stepped back, expecting him to do something. But he shook his head no and motioned to them to carry on. He looked at the subject's face... the man's face. It seemed to be almost at peace now, thanks to the artificial sleep they had instilled in his veins.

If he could have felt any compassion, Loriebat sure would have felt sorry for that poor guy. He had been told a little more about him before they caught him again. Not that he needed or wanted to know. But he hadn't wanted to let aside any information, in case it could have some impact on the planned tests.

He knew now that Subject A... John Biebe, his name... had just got married when they had first captured him, that he seemed to have all he needed to be happy, a respectable job, a comfortable home, good friends, a loving wife, was in perfect health, good physical condition, a former sportsman, still rather muscular even if a little overweight. Unlucky man, caught instead of another one, just because he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time!

And, as if it was not enough, the unfortunate couple had had the bad idea to come back here, becoming again such easy preys for them! The fools! As soon as Mephisto found out they were looking at real estate nearby, they knew they had again the perfect opportunity to capture Subject A and continue, hopefully complete, the tests and experiments.

Loriebat straightened himself unconsciously, feeling suddenly a little uneasy with those personal details. He was almost sure anyway that they would have found a way to get him wherever he would have been. It just made him feel uncharacteristically odd ... they had known that the continuation of the experiments had to be done on the same subject as the first ones to speed up the process but ... to now have a name and a life history associated with Subject A made him ... too human-like.

Strangely, he had also learned that the Mephisto people had originally been after a different subject than this Biebe. It had been someone named Max Cooper, another time-traveller. It was his unborn child who had become Subject B.

Cooper, Biebe or any other. He personally wouldn't have minded which one. But it had been John Biebe. So what? Since when did he feel sorry for one of the subjects of his examinations? Because that was all Subject A was now: a fascinating playground for him and his assistants ... and the probable key of a big mystery.

Emilien Loriebat had been fired from most of the labs before being hired by Mephisto Corporation, because of his rather "radical" methods. He didn't mind the methods, it was always the results that counted. Some used to say that he was cruel. He opposed that ... he was just practical. There was no room for feelings in his life or his work. Not anymore. Not ever. One could very well live without feelings. Feelings hurt. He knew that better than anyone. Who needed a heart? The only thing that counted was the brain. Your brain never betrayed you. And what a brain he had!

He looked again at the man lying on the table before him. As if to prove him right, the equipment monitoring his cerebral activity was showing an intense activity and emotional state now. His sleep was not peaceful anymore, his eyelids, still closed, were fluttering, his breathing was uneven, his lips were mouthing silent words. Always the same. A name. Probably the name he had been muttering each time he emerged enough from unconsciousness. Her name? Being newly wed, the fool was probably still in love.

Loriebat shook slowly his head. This man had obviously strong feelings. Feelings that had just driven him back right into their web. That's what feelings had done to him.

He shrugged and went back to work. It was not his problem anyway. He had no time to lose with feelings. Fame was there, at his hands and brain's reach. This man was not a man to him, he couldn't afford to think of him as a man, he was only "Subject A," a subject of experimentation and discovery.

Besides, what good did this subject's feelings of love do for him? They weren't helping his woman, were they?

No, they were not. Not since they had captured her and taken her with them to this lab. Loriebat could not care less about the human woman and she did not interest him in terms of science in the least. In fact, she was actually a distraction.

That was because this mysterious ally Sid had demanded the use of two of his most valuable assistants to deal with the woman. Sid had insisted that he was sharing a bit more than half the lab and would be conducting his own experiments on her.

And, Sid had had the temerity to tell Adam and Loriebat that it was the experiments on the woman that would actually be the ones that would be most fruitful for Mephisto.

Bah!

That is what Loriebat thought of Sid and his ego.

Because she kept his assistants from being at his beck and call, Loriebat had now come to dislike the human woman intensely. If it were up to him, she would be easy to deal with. But the weird man named Sid had dared to threaten him if he touched her.

And, on top of that, he also changed Loriebat's final directive - where he had been told he'd have a free hand with Subject A and could test until such time as his body served no further purpose and then could dispose of it to avoid official ramifications should that prove the best way to hide what they were doing, this Sid person ordered him to do no lasting harm to Subject A.

No lasting harm! How could he then do all he wanted as quickly as Mephisto wanted? Of course this would be nearly impossible ... and altered his approach in many ways.

Loriebat had not been happy with this. He turned to Mephisto, demanding they step in and order this Sid out of the scientific arena.

When he had harrumphed at Sid's treatment of a scientist of his stature, Loriebat had met resistance from Adam. Adam had sided with Sid but Loriebat knew what Adam really thought about all this for Loriebat knew that all reasonable and intelligent people agreed with him. So he knew this Adam had only "said" he sided with this Sid because Adam was afraid of Sid and did not want to cross him by telling him his honest opinion. Loriebat, however, was not afraid of this Sid.

And since he was not afraid of Sid, Loriebat was not about to be told what to do when it came to his own work. He, Dr. Loriebat, eminent researcher who was on the verge of becoming very famous thanks to what they were going to find in Subject A's body and mind, he had received other orders. Those original directives and orders from his real bosses were what he would follow. He knew that was what they really wanted despite Adam's pitiable inability to stand up to Sid. These original orders fitted more what he, Dr. Loriebat, had in mind.

What was a life or two... or more, compared to what was probably going to be the biggest discovery of all times?

When she woke up, she was lying on a bunk, under a thick blanket... or rather several, as she noticed when she snuggled deeper under them in order to try and keep that warmth her body was desperately craving. In fact, she realized that she was rather warm now. But she still had that strong feeling of having been cold, awfully cold. There seemed to be nothing in her mind right now but that sensation of intense cold she had felt before.

Nothing except his voice. The only other thing she could vaguely remember now was having heard the sound of his voice, far, far away, while she was so cold.

JOHN! 

Clarity raised herself suddenly to a sitting position; the too brusque movement sent a wave of dizziness and nausea through her. 

John! A painful flash shot through her head, making her groan. She shut her eyes again and lay back down. 

What did happen to them? As hard as she tried, she couldn't recollect any precise memories of what had happened since she had stepped into that cave in the Luberon property, and had been swallowed into the black hole of unconsciousness.

A few vague sounds and feelings were slowly coming back to her, scattered in that emptiness bathing her memory.  A hazy sensation of being carried. The muffled sound of a car. Other voices, still unidentified. Except one.

His. 

John's voice. It was the only thing that could reach her while she was swimming in and out of her dark world of oblivion, the only thing still connecting her to reality... or was it reality?

He didn't seem to be talking to her, but about her, maybe worrying. Yes, worrying. And giving orders to someone. She hadn't heard exactly what he was saying, everything was really confused in her mind.

Maybe he was talking to those people wearing white coats that had been scaring the hell out of her? Yes, she could remember them now, blurry menacing figures in white, scaring her, not because of what they could do to her - she didn't mind and they didn't seem to be interested in her anyway - but what they would probably do to John seemed to be their only interest.

She forced her eyes open again and tried once more to sit down. It was a little less painful, but she was still dizzy and queasy. At least she was not bound. And she was obviously alone. Where was John? Was he in another room? Another place? How was he? What were they doing to him? Why was she still alive? She thought they were just going to get rid of her.

And where was she? 

She looked around her, her eyes getting slowly used to the half darkness reigning in the little room when she was held. 

That place was very quiet. Not a sound could be heard. Her vision was still a little blurred, as was her mind, but she could guess that it was kind of a cabin.

A cabin? In Luberon? Not much the kind of architecture of this area.  But the weirdest thing was that... she rubbed her eyes, once more, but yes, she had seen right... there were bars on the only little window of the room.

Bars? Only then did she notice that there were other bars separating the place where her bunk was from the only stove on the room. 

A stove? She shook her head, but just managed to bring another wave of dizziness to her perturbed mind and stir up a dull headache. She tried to get up, but, in the process, bumped into a stool she hadn't seen near the bunk, making it fall noisily on the floor. The sound resonated in the silence of the room, as well as in her painful head.

She heard footsteps on the wooden floor and a door she hadn't seen, opened near the stove. A woman appeared, not pretty, but not ugly either, the kind of woman who could have looked fine if she had put some efforts into it, but obviously didn't. For a moment, Clarity had the strange feeling that she had seen her already somewhere. But had not time, nor strength enough to try and figure out where and when. The woman came to her, pushed open the barred door of her cell - because she could see now that it's what it was: a cell - which had, in fact, never been locked during all this time, and talked to her:

"At last you're awake, I was starting to wonder if you would ever come back to us! You better now?" 

"I... I don't know... I was bad?" She didn't recognize her own voice, hoarse and barely audible.

"You don't remember? You've been found in the snow."

"In the... snow?"

"What's your name?" 

"My name?"

"Yeah, your name. What are you called?" 

"What I am... " Clarity realized that she was going to look like a complete idiot if she went on repeating all the woman's questions, but she was trying to give time for her mind to get clearer... if it ever would.

"Clar... Claire. My name is Claire. I think." Why had she said that? She had no idea.

"What happened to you? How did you get there?" 

"I... I don't know."

"You don't remember?" 

"No."

"Nothing?"

She tried to think faster, and the only thing that could come to her mind now was that, as long as she didn't know who this woman was, where she was, and what she wanted from her, she'd better say as little as she could... even if that involved lying.

"No, nothing." She just couldn't resist asking the question that was burning her lips: "Was I alone? When I've been found... was I alone?"

"Yes, you were. Why? Why are you asking that? You remember something?" The woman was looking at her suspiciously now. 

Clarity just shook her head slowly, trying to hold back the tears that were rushing to her eyes, and looked at the floor, feeling suddenly very tired and weak again. All this didn't make any sense to her.

The woman kept on looking at her for a while silently, then started to relax. That poor girl seemed to be desperate and, even if she was faking, her shivering frail frame didn't seem to represent any danger to her stronger and trained one. Her voice was a little softer when she spoke again to her.

"That's what the doctor told us, that you might be shocked. He will be back in a while. Your life didn't seem to be in danger anymore and he had to check on Mrs. Anderson, she's expecting a baby, you know and..." But, then she met Clarity's eyes, full of pain and trouble, and she realized that she'd better skip the details. She couldn't help feeling pity for that young woman who seemed to be lost physically and probably mentally too. How did she get there? Was there someone waiting for her somewhere? Looking for her? Caring about her?

"You scared us all. You were been lucky we found you, you know? You could have frozen to death, just like that poor man we found last year... when I think about it, it was exactly at that precise place... and on the same day... the day after Halloween...  All Souls' day. There are weird coincidences in life."

The woman sighed as she regarded Clarity closer. 

"But what counts is that you were luckier than him. You've been found just in time. The doc said you'd been in shock but alright. Just cold." She noticed then that, as if to illustrate what she had just said, the young woman was shivering again now. She put one of the blankets around her shoulders and showed her the door.

"You need a warm drink. I'm going to brew up some coffee. Get in the office, you'll be better there, it's warmer.  I'll be back in a while."  

Clarity had tons of questions she wanted, needed to ask but, still not knowing where she was and with whom, she knew she had to stay cautious. Some sentences were echoing in her mind. "They found her"? "Frozen to death"? In Luberon? What kind of trick was that? Maybe it was a trap. A trap for what? She had no idea. But the less she would say, the better it would be for John, for their friends and families, for all of them.

She was felling cold again inside, as if her bones were frozen. She knew she needed that warm drink, so she decided to do what that strange woman who had been first not really aggressive to her, but not really friendly either, had told her, and go to what she had called "the office."

She got up, still unsure and a little dizzy, and made her way slowly to that door through which the woman had just disappeared. While walking cautiously, almost expecting her feet to break like glass at each step, she realized something that hadn't reached her foggy mind before. The woman was wearing a uniform. A uniform vaguely familiar to her, but certainly not the ones of the French police or gendarmerie.

The brighter light of the next room hurt her eyes, now accustomed to the feeble light of the cell and made her distracted momentarily from these reflexions.

There was no one in the room. Clarity looked at the different doors in that office and thought that one of them had to open to the outside, to freedom. It would probably be easy to go for it while the woman was occupied in another room. A little too easy maybe. It seemed strange to her that she didn't pay more attention to her prisoner. The people who had entrusted her with that task, whoever they were, wouldn't be happy if they'd lost their hostage because of a lack of surveillance? Because it's what she supposed she was now: if she was not dead yet, then she must be a hostage. To be exchanged for what? She had no idea. They had John, they didn't need her. But who could know with these people. She had not even the slightest idea of who they were and what they wanted, besides obviously know more about John's body. She shivered again, but this time not because of the cold, while thinking again about these people wearing white coats, and gathered around John. She remembered now having wanted to yell at that sight, but no sound could come out of her.

It was just another nightmare, she was going to wake up again and find him deep and peacefully asleep by her side, or better, making love to her, like it happened during their honeymoon. Yes, that's just what it was. A nightmare.

"I want to wake up. I want my real life back. NOW!" 

But it didn't work. She was still here, wherever "here" was. Alone. Lost. Terrified. 

Tears rushed to her eyes again. She looked for a handkerchief in her pocket and felt something hard under her fingers in there. Her cell phone. 

Her cell phone? How was this possible? How could they forget to take it from her? She tried to find a possible explanation and deduced from the lack of memories she had left, that, having probably mostly kept her drugged to keep her quiet and easy, they had not felt the need to search her.  But, even to her, it sounded like a poor explanation and didn't make much sense. These guys must be professionals and would not take any risk. But, well, whatever was the reason, if there was any, she was not going to let this chance slip between her fingers.

Her shaking fingers fiddled opening her cell phone. Her heart, suddenly full of hope, was beating so fast and so loud that she almost feared it could be heard from the other room, and she instinctively looked around her. In a few seconds, she was going to call Maximus again and tell him... tell him what? She didn't even know where she was, and even less John...

But she didn't have time to think any longer about what she was going to tell him. Her hopes were blown out quickly and painfully when she realized why they hadn't even made the effort to take her phone from her. There was absolutely nothing on the screen. It seemed to work though, the lights were still on. But she couldn't get any signal. She angrily put the useless object back in her pocket, tears of disappointment threatening to invade her eyes once more.

To keep her mind busy on something else, she decided to look around her again, and check more in details that "office" where she was now. Something on the wall immediately caught her attention.

A picture. 

She stepped closer... and jumped at the sound of the woman's voice even if it was a little warmer, softer now:

"John Biebe, he was the captain of our hockey team.  The team has never been the same again since they lost him. A pity!"

Clarity's eyes widened, her mouth fell open, her heart missed a beat, or maybe several. She looked at the woman again. 

Betty!

She rushed to the window on the next wall and looked outside through the roller blind. Mountains, glaciers, snow everywhere, a pond... an iced pond.

It... couldn't... be?

She couldn't be... in...