Must Be Flexible

Disclaimer: Earth: Final Conflict and all its characters are the property of Tribune Entertainment and are used without permission. Jarod is the property of the Center, aka NBC Television, and is also used without permission. However, I do promise to put everyone neatly away when I am done playing with them

Rating: PG-13

Title: Must Be Flexible

An Earth: Final Conflict story

By: Zelda

Summary: Da'an reveals Zo'or's plotting to humanity; Liam executes his plan to free the captured Resistance members.

Jarod paced relentlessly around the perimeter of the room. It had been far too long now. His anxieties were shifting into overdrive, into full-blown panic. Even the muted conversation taking place at the computer console was starting to get on his nerves.

“We’ve really scored here,” commented Augur as he supervised the download of information from Emma's global into his computer. "The last of these prisoner lists has Julia and her buddies on it." The display screen flickered with activity.

"Wait, what's that?" asked Liam excitedly. Augur stopped the data transfer. "Back, no, back one more," the young hybrid instructed. He scanned the screen rapidly. "Well, I'll be…"

What?" Augur demanded.

"It's the shuttle maintenance records. All shuttles assigned to the Mothership are supposed to report in every week."

"And?"

"This one is missing." Liam tapped the display screen.

"And?"

"It's Lili's shuttle." So Zo'or hadn't lied to Da'an after all--at least not about this. Now it was just a question of figuring out where Lili was holed up, and letting her know it was safe to return.

"Well, I'll be…" breathed Augur. A warning light flashed at the edge of the display. "Switch to security," he ordered. "Jarod! Looks like your guest is arriving." He looked back at the screen. "That can't be right," he muttered, as the newcomer ran his thumb down the DNA scanner hidden in Saint Michael's Church.

"What?" asked a smiling Liam, his attention diverted from the data download.

"Look," Augur pointed at the display. They both stared in disbelief.

***

"This is intolerable! Your arrogance is beyond measure! I simply cannot continue to do my job if I'm to be deprived of essential support. You assured me Kincaid was not an issue, and not only did he steal Da'an from under your very noses, he kidnapped me! If you and your trained monkey aren't committed to this project, tell me now, and I'll sell it somewhere else." Emma folded her arms across her chest and waited. Gods, she hoped she hadn't gone too far.

Zo'or leaned back in his chair on the bridge of the Mothership, arms braced securely on its sides. He hadn't been, what was the human term, upbraided, in such a fashion in a very long time. Weston's vigor was a refreshing change from the deferential Sandoval. Trained monkey--he'd have to remember that.

"Miss Weston," Zo'or spoke in measured tones. "There is nowhere else to sell it…but you are essentially correct. We were wrong."

Emma nearly collapsed in shock. Judging from the absolute stillness that dropped over the bridge, it was a universal reaction. Even the bubble-encased Taelons behind Zo'or stopped their gesturing, if only for a moment. "Thank you," she managed.

***

Liam and Augur gaped in astonishment at the two figures on the landing in front of the elevator.

"Where the hell have you been?" demanded Jarod. "You should have been here an hour ago."

"It could be his son," whispered Liam to Augur.

"But that doesn't account for the DNA match," he answered.

"Chill out, old man," replied the newcomer affectionately. "It just took some time to weave around Sandoval and those slug-ears." His hands wound through the air, mimicking his words.

"Volunteers or no Volunteers, you could have called," Jarod glowered.

"True," allowed the other, extending his hand in a conciliatory gesture. As Jarod took it, he said softly, "I think we'd better explain things to your friends there. They look like they're about to pop a load."

"Jerry, meet Augur, and Liam Kincaid." The younger version of Jarod descended the steps and shook both their hands.

"Da'an's Protector? And leader of the Resistance? A very organized fellow, bro," Jerry threw back over his shoulder.

Jarod came down to the main area. "And Augur created that virus that took out the Taelon systems about a year ago."

"Impressive," smiled the young man.

"And you are…?" Augur growled suspiciously. Liam suppressed a grin at how much his friend suddenly sounded like Jonathan Doors.

"My name is Jerry, short for Jarod,." A mischievous smile lit up his face. "As for who I am, well, I'm him and he's me. Say, do you have anything to eat? I'm starving!"

"Yeah, there's some stuff over on the table," said a bemused Augur. "What the hell does he mean, you're him and he's you?" Jerry returned with one sandwich stuffed in his mouth and another in his hands.

"Jerry is my clone," Jarod answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Your clone? But the Taelons have only been here for a few years," Liam said. Was it possible that there was someone else who could understand what it was like to be adult without having actually grown up?

Jerry swallowed a huge bite of sandwich. "The Taelons! That's a laugh!"

"You remember I told you that I was stolen as a young child by the Center?" Liam nodded. "I was trained to solve problems, and they sold the solutions. The Triumvirate," and his voice dripped with scorn, "decided they could make more money with more Pretenders. After nearly three hundred failed attempts, their scientists were able to create Jerry."

"’Oh, what a piece of work is man!’" quoted the young Pretender softly. "Jarod freed me when I was eleven."

"So that's why we had to have that logo on the truck!" Liam realized. "They're still in business?"

"Oh, yes," grinned Jarod malevolently. "I like to keep them on a short leash."

"Keep your friends close," began Augur.

"And your enemies even closer," Jarod agreed. "Hey, can I have a bite of that sandwich?"

***

Agent Ronald Sandoval studied the console before him diligently. He'd been running the plates on the van used in Da'an's abduction for the past hour, following dummy registration into dummy corporation, into shell company, further and further. And it hadn't been easy, what with all the commotion Emma Weston had been causing. He'd briefly considered taking offence at the trained monkey remark, but decided against it. Weston was only a temporary feature; Ronald Sandoval was the permanent fixture, so long as he continued to do his job well. And once he'd cracked this last corporate registration, he would be able to provide Zo'or with the names of Kincaid's co-conspirators. From there, it would be a short step to locating Da'an. Then, it would be time to make those who thought they could interfere with Companion Security pay for their mistake. The display screen flashed up the information he had been waiting for. "Zo'or," he announced, "we have the registration on the vehicle used by Da'an's kidnappers. It's a company located in Blue Cove, Delaware, run by a Mr. Lyle." He frowned at the screen. "It appears they have several contracts with us."

"Then send them word the contracts are cancelled. Use all appropriate means to ensure they understand the message," the Synod Leader ordered.

"Of course, Zo'or," Sandoval replied, keying in the command that would summon a Volunteer squadron.

***

The bakery was nearly deserted by the time Emma stopped in. Just on her way home, it was the perfect place to pick up a half-dozen bagels for the week's breakfasts. No clerks were in sight; she waited a few minutes, then dinged the bell impatiently. Another minute passed before a tall, dark-haired baker ambled out to assist her.

"Can I help you, miss?" Jarod asked. The television mounted in the corner blared away the latest headlines.

"We'll have more on the continuing search for the North American Companion as the story develops. Ona?" "A third night of rioting in New York and Los Angeles, and new reports coming in from Detroit, Dallas, and Atlanta. We go now to our Dallas affiliate…"

"Yes. I'll have one poppy seed, one sesame, one multi-grain…" Emma placed her order almost at random. Jarod's presence could mean only one thing: Liam was ready to rescue the captured Resistance members.

"That'll be $9.75," Jarod informed her. Emma opened her purse and began to search for the change. She placed her global on the glass counter, as directed, paid Jarod and took her bagels.

"Miss?" he called after her. "Don't forget your global. I hear everything you need to know is on these things." Returning to the counter, she grabbed the global and headed home.

Inside her apartment, she double-locked the door, dropped the bagels on the kitchen table, kicked her pumps in the general direction of the bedroom, and flopped on the sofa. Activating the global Jarod had given her and pressing Play, she prepared to receive her instructions for the implementation of phase two.

She wasn't prepared for the slow roll her stomach performed when Liam's face appeared.

***

"I'll take the call in my office, Grace," Abby Franklin informed her assistant. Her stock had certainly gone up at the network since her dramatic maiden voyage on the Mothership. A full-time assistant, a private office, a series of primetime specials--she was well on her way to becoming the greatest comeback story next to Jerry Springer, after that hard-news series he'd done on changing teenage values in millennial America.

She patched the call through the desktop monitor, and turned on her security measures. Only her best sources had this number, and they expected a certain amount of intimacy in their conversations with her. "Abby Franklin," she answered.

“Abby, it's Liam." On the other end, Liam paused. Did he need to give his whole name? She should recognize him, shouldn't she?

Abby's heart was pounding furiously. It was him! All the trouble he was in (and she'd seen the footage from Da'an's aborted speech) and he'd called her! "Liam!" she exclaimed happily. "Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you. Listen, Abby, I don't have a lot of time. How would you like to have an exclusive interview with the North American Companion?"

***

She was shivering and she was cold. Stamping her feet against the pavement in a vain effort to get warm, Abby hoped that someone, preferably Liam, would open the door to this deserted warehouse soon. As if in answer to her unspoken prayer, the door swung wide. A tall older man with dark hair greeted her. "Abby? I'm Jarod," he said with a smile. She shook his hand and followed his lead further into the building. They passed through another set of doors, into a brightly lit studio area. Two chairs were placed on a podium, surrounded by cameras. And coming toward her was Da'an, North American Companion.

"Miss Franklin," the Taelon began. "We are very grateful that you have agreed to host this interview this evening. The information I wish to reveal is of the utmost importance to the human race."

"Da'an, the honor is mine," she returned, trying to see around Da'an's shoulders. Where was Liam? "I, ah, I was expecting Major Kincaid to be here."

Jarod answered her. "I'm sorry, Abby, Liam has…another engagement this evening. Well, let's get started." He ushered the other two up to the stage.

"But I don't even know what this interview is about!" protested Abby.

"Don't worry, you'll do fine," smirked Jarod. "You know you always think better on your feet. In five, four, three…" and he backed away into the darkness. The broadcast lights blinked on all the cameras, and she was on.

"Good evening, I'm Abby Franklin."

***

"Zo'or?" Emma’s voice was raised to carry across the bridge of the Mothership. "I think you'd better see this.” She transferred the broadcast from her terminal to Zo'or's data stream.

"…the North American Companion, Da'an. Welcome, Da'an, and thank you for being here with me this evening." Abby turned to face Da'an.

"What is this? Where is it coming from?" the Synod leader demanded.

Emma suppressed her instinctive response, then answered as a proper Taelon employee should. "I don't know. She was supposed to have the Vice-President on tonight."

"Can you locate the origin of the broadcast?"

"Zo'or, that's not really my area of expertise," she reminded him.

"No, I suppose not," Zo'or admitted sullenly. "Agent Sandoval!" The implant’s face appeared instantly in the data stream.

"Yes, Zo'or?"

"Track down the origin of this broadcast. I believe you will find Da'an there," said Zo'or smugly.

Emma paid no attention to Sandoval's acknowledgement. Abby Franklin, for crying out loud! Really! She continued fiddling with the controls, trying to appear as if she were complying with Zo'or's orders. Calling up the monitoring codes for the Taelons' Earth-based installations, she carefully deactivated communications and security for five of the buildings where Resistance members were being held.

"William Boone was more than just my Implant…he was my friend," continued Da'an from the data stream.

***

"I still don’t like this plan," grumbled Augur from their hiding place in some bushes just outside the so-called research facility where Julia and the other members of her cell were imprisoned. Research! he scoffed. I've got a pretty good idea of what kind of research is going on in there.

"What, you mean just the three of us against all those guards and Taelon security measures?" asked Jerry off-handedly. "Piece of cake, right, Liam?" A startled Liam glanced up from scanning the prison's defensive perimeter.

"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever," the distracted Protector answered.

"See, Liam agrees with me," Jerry offered. Liam could just imagine the sarcastic grin Augur was giving Jarod's clone at this very moment. Come on, Emma, where are you? he pleaded silently. He shouldn't have let her return to the Mothership. If something were to happen…and as he had many times in the past days he found himself, with perfect clarity, remembering that moment in the sewers when he had kissed her. He sighed unconsciously.

"Bored, are we?" Jerry crouched down beside him. "Don't worry, the indomitable Emma will come through." Just then, the scan shifted from red to green.

"Yes!" whispered Liam. "C'mon, the door is open!" They started in the direction of the lightly-guarded side entrance.

***

In the darkened control room of the makeshift studio where Abby Franklin was getting the biggest interview of her life, two figures shifted from computer to computer, in a desperate race to keep the broadcast on air long enough to allow the Resistance raiding parties to free their fellow members. One was calm and assured, despite a growing consciousness of the hour, while the other had no qualms whatsoever about expressing his, well, qualms.

"Jarod, they've broken another encryption!" Broots called. His hands danced nervously over the keyboard.

Though he knew the answer perfectly well the Pretender answered patiently. "How many does that leave us?"

"Only fifty…at this rate they'll have tracked the signal completely in another hour!" The balding computer genius spun his chair around to face another monitor. "Oh, why am I here?" he moaned.

Jarod laughed out loud. Same old Broots, no matter what. "Because you know you're doing the right thing," he encouraged his one-time pursuer.

"Because Miss Parker made me," muttered Broots, adding another layer of protection to their broadcast signal. Jarod intertwined his own programming around it.

"And how is Miss Parker doing these days?"

Now it was Broots's turn to chuckle. "Grateful for the raid on her brother's operations. The Taelons canceled every project she's been opposing." The chair swiveled again, bringing Broots face-to-face with the man whose capture could assure his future at the Centre. "Jarod? Are you really sure Mr. Lyle is Miss Parker's brother?"

Jarod smiled mysteriously as he adjusted the system to compensate for some static. Abby's voice was incredulous.

"Da'an, are you saying that William Boone was…murdered by Zo'or, and then resurrected?"

***

Julia Cook was shocked into consciousness by the sudden absence of light and noise from her cell. Ever since she had been captured, however many days ago that had been, they'd left the damn stereo and lights on full blast. No doubt expecting them to crack from sleep deprivation, or something. It was apparent not one of their captors had ever tried to cram for finals at a major Eastern university.

"Julia?" Her cellmate, a timid thing who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, fumbled her way through the darkness. "What's happening?"

"Shh!" she commanded. "I'm trying to listen." Which she did. But heard nothing. Still, a power failure meant opportunity, and she wasn't one to waste opportunity. "Sam?" she called softly. The Resistance member in the cell opposite hers grunted back. "Get ready," she warned. Now she heard footsteps approaching, then a muffled conversation.

"What do you mean the doors are electric? Who designed this place anyhow?" a voice complained. The corridor lights switched on, and the cell doors opened.

"Who's ready to go home?" called a familiar voice, perhaps the dearest voice she could have hoped to hear at that moment. She stepped out into the hallway to greet Liam.

"Well, it's about time." She took in the two accompanying her leader. "Augur. And you are?" she asked.

"Jerry."

"Charmed, I'm sure," she muttered. Replacements, already? "Liam? Let's blow this popsicle stand.”

"Everyone, we're heading out into the woods, okay? From there, you all need to disappear. Lay low and don't worry. The Resistance is far from over. We will be reorganizing and we will be needing your help. Let's go!" Liam turned and led them out of the building.

Guards were slumped here and there against the walls, bumps, bruises and cuts mute evidence of how Liam, Augur and Jerry had entered the building. People poured out of the exit and vanished in all directions. "This way," directed Liam as Julia glanced into the main checkpoint office. All the screens but one were blank; on the live screen was Da'an. She strained to hear him as Liam hustled her out of the building.

"I gradually realized Lazarus was more than he seemed…"

***

The bridge of the Taelon Mothership was not a good place to be, view or no view, Emma decided. She'd brought only the security grids back up for the five facilities, leaving communications down as Liam had instructed, and now was standing next to Zo'or, watching Abby wrap up the interview. Even though she’d heard the story before, even though she'd had days to get used to the feelings Will's suffering aroused in her, she still found it difficult to listen to. And knowing that she was standing next to the creature who had caused that suffering was not helping. Rendezvous then I'm through with you. The late 90s lyric popped unbidden into her head.

"Well, Miss Weston?" began Zo'or, "how do you plan to exploit this latest disaster?"

Emma closed her eyes briefly, riding out the sudden surge of rage evoked by Zo'or's voice. But when she opened them, she was met by the picture of Will Jarod was using to close out the broadcast. Almost involuntarily, she moved toward the data stream. Time and past to end this story, she thought.

"Miss Weston?" His sneer permeated every syllable of her name.

She faced the Taelon. "Is it true?" she asked. She no longer cared what emotions her voice was projecting--hatred, fear, disgust--it didn't matter.

"I fail to see the significance of the question."

"Is it true?" she repeated with more intensity. Could there be even the remotest possibility of a lie, could it not have happened…

"Whatever I have done, has been done for the betterment of both Taelons and humans," Zo'or proclaimed.

"Is it true?" Each word was a separate drop in the ocean wash of bridge noise.

"It is," the Synod Leader admitted without a hint of remorse.

The last tiny, wild ember of hope turned to bitter ash in Emma's mouth. Her stomach turned and she exhaled.

"Then I suggest you pray, Zo'or." Her tone brooked no opposition as she strode rapidly toward the exit.

A stunned Zo'or watched her leave. This was not the Emma Weston he had observed over the past ten days. And then he realized what he had misread. Rising out of his command chair, he interposed himself between Emma and the exit.

"I think I'm done here," she said forcefully, trying to get past him. Zo'or smiled.

"We are far from done," he replied, grabbing her wrist with lightning speed. Pressing his palm against hers, he initiated the sharing that would finally show him everything he needed to know about the Resistance.

***

In the tunnels leading from the warehouse back to Augur's lair, Da'an suddenly gasped and nearly fell against Jarod. Waving off the Pretender's offer of assistance, he straightened and began moving more swiftly. "Da'an?" Jarod asked.

"I am well." He blushed blue. Such sorrow! "We must hurry."

***

Zo'or flared his nostrils in frustration. He was getting nowhere. These feeble human minds were incapable of sustained thought, constantly flitting from topic to topic. He would have to apply a more direct approach.

Emma shuddered; the feeling of Zo'or's thoughts against her own was indescribably revolting. And then, somehow, it changed--the pressure increased until only it remained. "Tell me about the Resistance," it hissed. Resistance?

She was six years old, eating her Hallowe'en smarties in the playground, when Randy Stevens pushed her down. Smarties went flying everywhere; she started to cry. "Get lost, loser," ordered a confident voice. "Are you okay?" and Emma looked up into the face of her twelve-year-old deliverer…

"We can't take her, she's only ten," Sarah Boone had protested, but the boys had overridden her and she had gone to the movie. "What did you think?" Jonny asked. Perfectly naturally, she answered, "I liked it, but I thought the resolution was forced too early," and she thrilled to the look of happy surprise in Will's eyes…

With all the passion of her seventeen years, she argued, "Will, the United States has no business dictating to other nations." "Emma, their policies are wrong, and people are dying. We can help." "How does war help those who are dying? It only leads to more death." "You're a pacifist at heart, Emma Weston," he accused half- laughingly…

Home at twenty-two, she ran into Will for the first time since his discharge from the SI War. "About Jonny, Emma, I'm sorry," he stumbled. To hide her angry tears she turned away…

Four years later, she danced with a radiant, tuxedo-clad Will at his wedding, her heart breaking…

3 A.C., and she was poured into a fabulous red dress with her hair done just so. Deryck, her editor, presented her to the new Protector to Da'an, and her heart leapt at Will's astonished expression…

Disembarking at the airport, she inhaled the fresh spring air. What a wonderful time for beginnings! Joshua met her at the gate, took her hands, and tried to sit her down, but over his shoulder, she could see the vid broadcast "…the loss of Companion Protector William Patrick Boone…" She didn't cry, not then, not until later…

"And when the experiment backfired and Lazarus began to recall Boone's memories, Zo'or let him be killed again…"

It was not fair. It was wrong. It tore at her soul, and opened places where she had carefully walled off grief and pain. The pressure increased, searching, pushing, and she just didn't care. She let herself fall, fall into the pit of sorrow, allowed herself to feel as she hadn't been able to since she'd learned the truth. Will, she mourned as she fell…

***

The Volunteers on the bridge moved about their assigned tasks uncertainly. Though Zo'or had given no specific instructions, the lengthy absence of commands was unnerving. The two figures in front of the main exit from the bridge had been fixed in place for several minutes, a faint glow illuminating the joined palms of the Synod Leader and his newest advisor. Emma was breathing harshly and blood trickled from her nose.

Zo'or pressed harder, past Emma's foolish memories of Boone. She had hoped to hide the truth from him, but he had caught the flicker of thought that would lead to her Resistance connections…

On the bridge, Emma suddenly snapped back to consciousness. She whipped her hand from Zo'or's grasp and shoved past him to the exit, running for her life. Zo'or's eyes opened seconds later, and he staggered slightly. Recovering, he screamed, "Capture her!"

***

Emma pelted down the corridor, nauseous and lost. She was trapped on the Mothership, no way to escape…except one. She made an abrupt left, pulling up Liam's instructions whole from her memory. Only two more turns, and she should find it. One, two, and she was there, at the unguarded Mothership portal. Unguarded because who could use it besides Taelons and their servants? She entered the sequence of symbols that were the coordinates for the Washington embassy, blood dripping onto the screen. Wiping her nose on the back of her hand, she had only time to reflect that Mom won't like that--this is a good jacket as the portal sent her into interdimensional space.

***

"Zo'or! The Mothership portal has been activated!" called a Volunteer.

"Im-" Zo'or began, then stopped himself. The important thing was to capture her; obviously she was someone of great significance in the Resistance, perhaps as great as the vanished Captain Marquette. "What were the coordinates?"

"The Washington embassy." Da'an's former home. Of course. Zo'or called up Sandoval.

"Zo'or," the implant was surprised. "I was just about to make my report. We've found the location of the…"

"I have new orders for you. You must locate and capture Emma Weston. She is at the Washington Embassy. The guards there have been alerted and await you." Zo'or's tone was even more arrogant that usual. How had she managed to escape the sharing? No human should have that power.

"Emma Weston?" Sandoval appeared confused.

"Do not question my orders, Agent Sandoval," Zo'or snapped, ending the transmission.

Sandoval closed the global thoughtfully. Emma, I hope I find you first.

***

The I.D. portal in Da'an's office shimmered into life and Emma hurled herself out of it. She had to keep running, or they would catch her. They couldn't catch her; that would be very bad. "Gotcha!" Jonny's voice called. She shook her head to clear it. She had to get out, get back to Augur's. "What can I say? You got me." She raced up the ramp and into the hallway. Down the hallway, into the stairwell. "Emma, I couldn't love you more if you were my own sister." Down the stairs; she tripped, fell most of a flight, picked herself up. "Mom? What's wrong?" "It's Jonny. Oh Emma…" Out into the embassy's lobby, moving with all the speed she had. Guards came after her; she dodged to the left, shoved past one on the right and burst through the main doors. "So, you want me to go to the Mothership, convince Zo'or that Da'an is just the tool he's been looking for to control the human population, then set up an assassination attempt from which the Resistance will rescue him. Was there anything else you wanted while I'm out?" Into the park across the street. The stage was still standing, the hole from Sandoval's skrill blast marked by a splintered edge. She raced on, not knowing if the guards were coming after her. Bright light stabbed down the street. Emma ducked back into the alleyway, her heart pounding furiously. "Take these three in, Jonesie. Damn anti-war protesters!" and she and Joshua exchanged furtive, excited glances. The light passed, and she took off again.

***

"I'm going after her and that's final." The door slammed shut on all their protests and Liam sighed in relief. He knew all the reasons to wait for Emma to find her way back to the hideout on her own, starting with the increased patrols looking for Da'an now that he had spoken openly about Zo'or. And as the Resistance leader, he should stay safely hidden away; Jarod and Jerry both had offered to look for her. But he couldn't shake the creeping fear that he'd seen mirrored in Da'an's eyes when the Companion had told him of the disturbance in the Commonality. He popped his head out of the manhole on the east side of St. Michael's church, and took a careful look around before hauling himself out onto the grass. His knee creaked in protest. Only eight months old, and going downhill already, he snorted to himself. Still, it had been a long night: getting to Julia's prison, subduing the guards, releasing the prisoners, getting back to the lair, discovering that absence didn't make the heart grow fonder, as Julia's attitude brought back all the old tension to his shoulders and neck…Liam faded back into the shadows as the slap of running feet crossed the churchyard.

It was Emma, her blonde hair in disarray, heaving breath frosting the November air. She scrabbled at the church door in blind panic and finally succeeded in opening it, nearly falling though. Liam closed his eyes in silent thanks, and listened carefully for pursuit. Hearing nothing, he followed Emma into the church.

"Did you think that you could escape our psychic link?" Emma whimpered. The windows of the church seemed to glow with an unearthly light. Why had she thought she would be safe here? Her entire being froze in place as she heard footsteps approaching. A voice called her name. She sprang up, tripped, and fell in the open space just in front of the altar. "Emma," repeated the voice. It was Liam's, but coming from a glowing humanoid figure. "Are you okay?" it said with concern. She blinked and it was just Liam, bending down to offer her a hand up. No glow, just red-brown hair and green eyes and bitten lip. She took his hand and every nerve ending in her body prickled in warning.

Siobhan Beckett was floating in mid-air, enveloped in swirling bands of white which originated in the palms of Agent Ronald Sandoval. The energy vortex dissipated and Beckett was lowered gently to the ground by Ha'gel and his host. "Ha'gel!" called William Boone. Sandoval's body turned to face the Protector, shaqarava ignited. "Together we stand a chance of defeating the Taelons!" The Kimera appeared to be considering the offer, until the doors to the church burst open. He aimed the shaqarava towards the new threat. "No!" cried Boone, firing his skrill to prevent the loss of innocent life. The blast hit home, but not before Ha'gel sent a return shot from the shaqarava. Boone was thrown against the pillar, mortally wounded.

Emma had gone limp on the floor. Liam pulled her up and carried her to the Resistance elevator. What the hell was that? What did Zo'or do to her? She stirred as the elevator began its descent.

"Liam?" Her voice was shaky. And she was having some trouble focusing clearly on her surroundings. Her feet were on the ground; she was pretty sure of that. The blur resolved itself into Liam's face. "Oh, gods," she breathed. "That was you! That was your…" She swallowed down a wave of nausea.

"Shh," Liam crooned. Greatly daring, he smoothed down her hair and cradled her closer as she buried her head against his chest. The elevator doors opened onto a hubbub of activity.

"Liam! You found her!" Jarod called. The two made their way down the steps to where Da'an was waiting for them. Emma looked up to meet the Taelon's compassionate blue eyes.

"Zo'or…" was all she could manage. She raised a trembling hand to wipe away the trickling nosebleed, and Liam realized with a start that the back of her hand and her sleeve were covered in blood.

"He forced a sharing with you?" Da'an's voice was horrified. Emma simply stood there, breathing in great gulps of air. "Who is this Liam Kincaid?' she'd demanded from Joshua. "I don't know. He served with Boone in the SI War." "That's not the same picture I saw before," she insisted. Joshua rolled his eyes at her. "Emma," he said gently, "give it up. I know you grieve, and there's nothing wrong with that, but he's gone."

"Sharing?" demanded Doors. "You mean telepathic sharing? We have to evacuate immediately! Zo'or could know everything by now!"

"In which case he would have already been here," retorted Liam. "Da'an, can you do anything to help her?"

"I can share with her again to determine the full extent of what Zo'or learnt," the Taelon offered. Emma stiffened.

"Do I have to?" she asked in a tiny voice. Liam caressed her hair reassuringly. She took a deep breath. "Very well." She said as she extended her hand to meet Da'an's. As their palms touched, she flinched. "Emma," cautioned a voice; she couldn't tell whose. Her view was narrowed to the pale blue alien standing in front of her.

"No, I have to do this," she asserted. Pressing her hand more firmly against Da'an's, she allowed her eyes to drift closed.

After several long minutes, Da'an moved his hand away from Emma's. She opened her eyes slowly, breathing calmly. "Thank you," she said to him. "I never knew..."

"It is I who must thank you," the Companion replied gently. "You have allowed me to see a side of William I could not have otherwise known." Da'an addressed Liam. "Zo'or has his suspicions of Emma, but he could confirm nothing. We Taelons are not used to dealing with strong emotions such as those Emma has about William. I believe the…discomfort…allowed Emma to escape before he could force any damaging information from her."

Liam was about to thank Da'an when he was interrupted by a fanfare from the holo-program. She was wearing a glamorous sparkling gown with a sash carrying the number 1,000,000 on it. "Augur!" she announced excitedly. "We've just had our one-millionth hit on the website!" Augur grabbed Julia, who happened to be standing next to him, and spun her around in a bear-hug, whooping.

***

Zo'or opened the data stream to the transmission from Sandoval. "What is the status of your search?" he demanded.

The implant looked uncomfortable. "We have teams searching in a five-mile radius out from the embassy, but their sweep is nearly complete." He hesitated a moment, then continued. "There is no sign of her, Zo'or."

"Continue searching!" he ordered and waved the link closed. He had to find her, had to know how she had managed to escape from him. Was it her connection to…him? He couldn't even think the hated name. The thief who had stolen Da'an's attention, then his sympathy. It hadn't been that voice he had heard, just before the sharing was so abruptly ended. That couldn't have been Boone's voice. "I won't let you hurt her, Zo'or." There was no room for that voice in the Taelon who was Synod Leader.

***

Sandoval put the global away and took one last look at Saint Michael's Church. He turned to rejoin the group of Volunteers waiting a few feet away, their attention centered on a public access vid terminal.

"William Boone was more than my Implant; he was my friend…"

TO BE CONTINUED…