Incense Rising Part II

THE PRETENDER
"Incense Rising Part II"
by the lurker

St. Ignatious Catholic Church

The morning mass was just finishing when she pulled up alongside the curb across the street: He was standing there greeting parishioners as they left the church. She took a deep breath, stepped out of her car and walked across the street, never taking her eyes off of him.

He smiled when he saw her, "Miss Parker, this is somewhat of a surprise. I was under the impression that you weren't very fond of churches."

She returned the smile, "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name last night..."

He extended his hand, "Fr. Thomas Rausch, S.J., at your service, although most people call me Fr. Tom."

"S.J., as in a Jesuit?"

"Yeah, you have something against Jesuits too?"

She laughed, "Not particularly, I just didn't think they usually let you guys administer a parish."

"They don't normally." His smile widened, "I'm a special case."

"Hmm, I'll bet you are."

"I take it that this isn't exactly a social, nor a spiritual call, Miss Parker. How can I help you?"

She looked down, then back up at him, "You were very kind last night, and I was a little--"

"--Snappish?"

She frowned, "No, I wasn't snappish, I was just--"

"--Rude?"

Her frown turned into a glare, "No, father, let's just say that I was less than personable and leave it at that." He nodded, and so she continued, "I wanted to ask your advice on a matter."

"About your father?"

"Sydney isn't my father. He's more like the crazy uncle you're afraid all your friends will discover sitting in your living room when you're in high school, you know?"

"Hrmph, I would have put money on the two of you as father and daughter."

"Well, we're not. Look, last night you indicated that you thought he was possibly on the edge; at the time, I didn't necessarily agree, but....."

"Has something happened?"

"Not exactly, no."

You're just concerned?

Yes, and I was hoping.....

He nodded, "That I could help you out. She nodded and he moved along, Everyone has his breaking point, Miss Parker, no matter how strong of an individual he may normally be, if pushed to his limits, a man's mind can break. It's a fragile thing, the psyche; put too much of the right kinds of pressure on it, and it can snap like a twig. Your fath-- I mean, Sydney, seemed wound pretty tightly. I could see it in his eyes, the betrayal, the hurt; and it's a hurt that's been building for quite some time."

"So you're saying that given the right stress, he could go over the edge?"

"I'm saying that given the right circumstances, anyone can; it's solely dependent upon the vulnerability of the individual at the time, and how much stress is being placed upon him."

"What can I do to help him?"

"I'd get him into therapy with a psychiatrist."

Parker began laughing and the priest just stared at her, "I'm sorry, it's just....Sydney is a psychiatrist."

"Oh. They can be the toughest and most stubborn of patients. Just judging by what little contact I had with him last night, I think he can use some help right now."

Parker nodded, "I'm sure he must have a therapist...don't all of you head doctors have to see other head doctors as part of your....psych thing?"

He laughed, Yes. If you need a recommendation though, I'll be happy to give you one.

She returned the smile, Thank you Fr. Rausch, I do appreciate the time.

"It's Fr. Tom, and you're welcome. Miss Parker, if there's anything else I can do, let me know."

"Thanks....."

He watched her walk across the street and get into her car. He shook his head at himself, he really had thought the two of them were related. A small smile curved his lips; whether they realized it or not, at least on an emotional level, Parker and Sydney were father and daughter. If anyone would be able to help the man out of the dark hole he was slowly crawling into, it would most likely be Miss Parker. Fr. Tom just hoped that she wouldn't wait too long.

******************

The Centre

Parker paced nervously in the lobby near the main entrance of the Centre. She glanced again at her watch, he was almost always in by 9am; his tardiness was serving to make her even more ill at ease. Her earlier confrontation with Raines had, as she suspected, confirmed his duplicity, although he denied knowing that his new sweeper Jack had replaced the contents of Sydney's sim beakers in the Chem lab. In response to his actions, Jack was currently in the Tower, facing a T-board. A small smile curled Parker's mouth; at least Jack was going to be toast.

The deep voice from right behind her made her jump, "Angel, why are you loitering in the lobby?"

She turned, plastering an innocent smile on her face, "I'm not loitering Daddy, I'm just--"

"--Waiting for Sydney?"

She glared, "Why would I do that?"

"For the same reason that I'm down here; you're scared to death of what the man might do."

"That's nonsense, Daddy," her eyes shifted away, trying to cover her own lack of conviction, "Sydney isn't going to do anything crazy."

"Uh-huh," Parker uttered, nonplussed.

"And if you suspect that he might, why haven't you posted a sweeper team?"

Mr. Parker changed the subject, "Exactly how did the Triumvirate get its hands on that footage from the Chem Lab so quickly?"

She smiled, "I had it emailed to them last night."

Parker frowned, "You shouldn't have done that, Angel."

"Why the hell not? A little boy died, and Sydney was set up to take the blame for it, did you think I was going to stand by and let it happen?"

Parker glanced toward the glass doors of the main entrance, then grabbed his daughter by the elbow and pulled her into an alcove, "I told you to stay out of this."

Her eyes were ablaze with anger, "Stay out of what, Daddy?"

Mr. Parker looked away, inhaling deeply, "There are more things in play than you realize, with a lot more at stake than just--"

She stared at him, her eyes filled with disbelief as it dawned upon her, "More things at stake than just Sydney and Eric?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you were going to."

"Listen to me; Mr. Raines has been out of control for several years--"

"--Ya think?--"

He ignored her and continued, "--And I've needed the right circumstance under which I could prove to the Triumvirate once and for all that Raines needs to be taken down."

"So you allowed him to kill a child?"

"No," his voice was filled with ire, "I had no idea he would go this far. The only thing I was going to allow was--"

"--The destruction of Sydney."

He had to look away, as the hurt in his daughter's eyes penetrated his tough exterior, driving itself like a stake into his heart.

He took her arms, "There was no alternative. I couldn't let Raines come after you or me, and it needed to be someone with a little clout, someone who has been with the Centre for thirty years or more. Sydney was the best choice."

Her tone carried the full weight of her anger, "So you just helped Raines along with the idea that Sydney was standing in his way, and indicated that you would turn a blind eye, if something happened?"

"Yes. I should have anticipated that Raines would attempt to get me in the process."

"And Eric paid the price for your little game."

Pain flickered in Mr. Parker's eyes, his voice merely a whisper, "That was extremely unfortunate." He changed the subject, I take it that Sydney isn't handling this very well....

"What did you expect?"

Parker nodded, "You were of great comfort to him last night at the church, I hope you know that."

Her eyes darted up, piercing his, "You had me followed."

"Actually--"

"--You had Sydney followed?" He looked away from her, she touched his cheek, "You were worried."

He nodded, "There was some concern that he might....do something rash."

The nickel finally dropped for her, "You're working with someone from the Triumvirate."

He smiled, "I'll leave Sydney to you. For now. Just make sure that you can keep him under control."

Before she could say another word, he was gone. And that's when it hit her; her father had distracted her for a reason. Sydney was probably already in the building. She bolted toward the stairs and headed for Mr. Raines' office, hoping she wasn't already too late.

****************

He had thought it through, and come to the conclusion that something had to be done; and he should be the one to do it. He had watched Raines torment those around him and stayed silent for more than thirty years; it was more than enough. Sydney would finally rid them all, of the menace. His long stride carried him quickly down the corridor, toward Mr. Raines. He could feel the beads of sweat begin to trickle down his face, and his heart began to pound in his chest, as he approached the man's office.

He threw the door open, and reached for the left inside breast pocket of his jacket.

Parker yelled, "Sydney! No!"

He felt her arms forcefully wrap around him from behind, effectively pinning his right arm against his chest, preventing him from pulling the 9mm out of his pocket. He heard the cocking of several guns and realized that while Raines stood quietly behind his desk smiling, there were sweepers standing all throughout the room, pointing their weapons at his head.

Miss Parker spoke softly into his ear, "Not like this, Sydney. Not this way."

Slowly Parker pulled Sydney backward, toward the door, all the while watching the sweepers. She kept his arms pinned, not trusting that despite the odds, he wouldn't pull his gun out anyway. Sydney maintained eye contact with Raines, the two of them staring each other down.

"You'd better watch your step, Sydney," Raines rasped, "Miss Parker won't always be around the corner, ready to save your ass."

Sydney didn't respond, and Parker dragged him through the door and out into the corridor, where she roughly tossed him into the nearest wall.

"Doc Holliday you are not......What the fuck is the matter with you?" She reached into his inside pocket and yanked out the 9mm, slamming it against the wall next to his head, "Answer me god damnit, you almost got yourself killed."

"I don't care."

"Well I do."

His voice softened, "He doesn't deserve to live."

"Who appointed you judge, jury and executioner?"

He pushed away from the wall, and began walking down the corridor, "Someone needs to be...."

"Playing god wasn't something I ever thought I'd accuse you of doing, Syd." He kept walking, and her anger overtook her, "Sort of puts you in the same league with Raines and Dr. Krieg, don't you think?"

He stopped walking and turned to face her, "What?"

"You've turned into exactly what you feared when you were a little boy, haven't you?"

Parker swallowed hard as the brown eyes staring into hers turned black as coal. The venom which began to fill him was as dark as anything Parker had ever seen, and a momentary panic turned her stomach. The rage she was sensing from him caused her to recoil, fearing that he might actually turn on her.

But then, her bravada returned, "You were going to kill the man in cold blood, Sydney. What does that say about you?"

"So you're Sydney," the quiet voice behind him stated.

Sydney and Parker turned to look at the small woman in her early forties, who had appeared in the hallway behind them.

Sydney spoke softly, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"I'm Mrs. Maisel. Eric talked about you non stop, as if you were god almighty himself."

Sydney felt his stomach lurch. He blinked, trying to comprehend what the woman was doing in the corridor outside Raines' office. It was Parker who recovered first.

"Mrs. Maisel, I'm Miss Parker, I'm very sorry about your son."

Maisel ignored Parker altogether, staying focused upon the object of her hatred, "I had to come here to see for myself, what kind of man could kill a little boy who worshipped him. What the hell kind of place is this? What kind of man are you that you allowed it?"

Parker tried to keep her voice neutral, "Mrs. Maisel, I think there has been some kind of mis--"

Sydney stopped Parker with a hand on her arm. Mrs. Maisel took a step closer to him, staring into his eyes.

"Eric's father died when he was a baby; you were the only adult male figure in his life. He trusted you, he looked up to you. And you killed him. What kind of monster are you?" Tears flowed down her face and she took another step toward Sydney, "Don't just stand there, say something...."

Sydney couldn't speak; he couldn't even move. Mrs. Maisel lunged at him, pounding her fists into his chest hysterically.

"You bastard! You should have died, not my son. Are you even sorry? Can't you feel anything? I hope god strikes you down, and makes you burn in hell."

Miss Parker pulled the woman off Sydney just as Sam and a sweeper team arrived in the hallway.

"Sam, could you please escort Mrs. Maisel out of the building, and see that she gets home safely?"

"Yes, Miss Parker."

Mrs. Maisel continued to scream at Sydney as Sam took her away. Parker turned back to Sydney, whose face had turned ashen.

"Syd? You okay?"

Sydney still couldn't speak. His eyes were filled with unshed tears, and he was pulling in short gasps of breath.

She stroked his face gently, "Come on, I think you should lie down for a little while, you don't look so good."

She tried to take his hand, but he jerked it away from her, "No. I don't......just.....just leave me alone."

Sydney turned abruptly and made a hasty retreat in the opposite direction of the corridor.

"Sydney?"

Parker almost followed him, but then thought better of it; common sense told her that maybe a little time alone was the best thing for him. Her inner sense, however, began to scream its dissent, loudly.....

***************

Sydney's House

He continued to pace the length of the dining room, up and back, up and back; just as he had done for the past six hours. He felt immense agitation, and total helplessness. He was responsible for the death of a child who had been entrusted to his care. Sydney gripped the edge of the table as another wave of anguish rippled through him. How had his life come to this? Eric was a small, gifted boy; a child who had depended upon Sydney to protect him. And Sydney had failed miserably.

It was the legacy of his entire life: Failure and Betrayal.

He slammed his eyes shut against the still fresh images of the little boy lying dead on the floor of the Sim Lab. His mind replaced Eric's face with Jarod's, and Sydney cried in distress at the thought of it. It could easily have been Jarod all those years ago during any one of a number of sims. Sydney's mind flashed through the most painful moments of his life in fast succession, as though he were flipping quickly through an old photo album.

He watched helplessly as Dr. Krieg injected his brother Jacob with an experimental drug, the younger of the two twins screaming for Sydney to help him. He had been powerless to aid Jacob, no matter how hard Sydney struggled against the SS officer who restrained him, he could not break free. His mind flashed to the night of the accident; Jacob lying near death on the side of the road in the pouring rain, and Sydney powerless to help him. But unlike Dachau, he knew that the accident had been his responsibility.

Sydney pushed away from the dining room table, and fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face, "Why.....?"

Jarod's face sparkled before him again, crying for Sydney to rescue him from a sim. But Sydney was trapped behind a glass barrier, a sweeper team restraining him. The smiling face of Dr. William Raines appeared in the reflection of the glass, laughing, his voice echoing through Sydney's head.

"You will do as I tell you, Sydney, or I will remove you from the pretender project, and you will never see Jarod again."

Sydney tried to shut it out, but the memories were coming too fast, like tidal waves pounding onto the shores of his defenseless mind. Michelle's tear stained face appeared to him; she had been confronted with losing their infant son, and she had braved it alone. He should have been there with her, with them. Sydney had failed wretchedly in his life to protect those he loved, everyone who had depended upon him, he had let down; the depths of his own deficiency began to hit him like an out of control storm.

Catherine Parker's face shimmered before him, "Take care of my little girl, Sydney......"

He placed the St. Christopher medal in her hand, kissing it, knowing he would never see her again. Young Miss Parker loomed before him then, crying inconsolably at her mother's funeral. And there was nothing Sydney could do; he couldn't protect her from facing death, any more than he could take away her pain.

Nicholas materialized, glaring at him, "I don't know who I am. How could you have lied to me?"

His son's visage walked away from him. And Sydney had to let him go, feeling powerless to stop any of the images which were assaulting him at rapid fire speed. Jarod replaced Nicholas' face, and the confusion in it pulled at the psychiatrist's heart.

"I loved you like a father, Sydney....how could you have tossed me away?"

The image of Jarod's empty room at the Centre, filled his mentor's mind. Jarod was gone, and he was never coming back. Sydney had lost him, just as he had lost those he had loved; and all of it of his own making, because of his own weaknesses. He had never been the man they wanted, nor the man they had needed. They had all deserved far better than he; and that truth inflicted a wound to him that he knew could not be mended.

Miss Parker's words pounded through his head, "You've turned into exactly what you feared when you were a little boy, haven't you?"

The image of Krieg floated through his mind; he tried to shake it away, but it kept coming at him. Sydney grabbed his head in pain, willing the man to leave him alone.

Krieg advanced closer, laughing at him, "You think you are any different from me? You are not. I know what you've done; I know the work that you have continued to do. God also knows what you are, and you will be judged for it Sydney, no less harshly than I."

Sydney cried out, "No!"

And still the images of his past taunted him, all of them accusing him at once.

"How could you leave me, Sydney? How could you let them take away your family?"

"I needed you, Sydney, and you let the Centre have me...."

"You promised that you would look after my little girl; why is she still at the Centre?"

"I loved you, Sydney, but you threw me away...."

Eric joined them, "I trusted you, Sydney. How could you let them kill me?"

"Stop! Please, stop...."

Sydney slammed his head into the table repeatedly, until blood flowed from a large gash above his right eyebrow. And then the world went dark, and at last, only silence filled his mind.

******************

The Centre
SL-11


It wasn't too late. He could still make it up to the boy. He knew the child had been disappointed at his mentor's lack of reaction to the card, but there was still time to make it up to him. He moved quickly down the corridor, and was surprised that he saw no one else. He held the package tightly in his hand, grinning slightly too himself, imagining the smile it would bring to the child's face when he opened it.

He rounded the corner and stopped short; the door to the room was standing open. It was standing wide open, and it shouldn't have been. Something was wrong. Sydney ran the last few feet and rushed into the room: It was completely empty. Not only was there no sign of Jarod, there was no furniture in the room. His feet suddenly felt nailed to the floor, the shock quickly moving over him. What had Raines done with the child?

Sydney turned to leave, and was stopped short by a sweeper team he didn't know. His anger overpowered his own fear, and his voice was filled with command.

"Where is he?"

The sweepers looked at each other in slight confusion, but none of them answered.

Sydney's voice demanded again, "Where the hell is he? What have you done with him?"

One of the sweepers took a cautious step into the room, "Calm down, doctor."

"Don't tell me to calm down. What has Raines done? Who the hell are you anyway?"

The sweeper frowned, "Doctor, it's me, it's Sam."

There was not even slight recognition in Sydney's eyes, "Look, just tell me what you've done with the boy."

Sam turned to another sweeper, lowering his voice, "Hugh, I'm going to call Miss Parker, keep him in here." He turned toward Sydney, "Just take it easy, I'm going to get someone down here who can answer your questions."

Sam walked out of the room, as Hugh and the rest of the sweepers stepped in, causing Sydney to retreat toward the back wall, dropping the package in his hands to the floor.

Sam picked up the wall phone in the hallway and punched in an extension. After a moment, an annoyed voice answered.

"What?"

"Miss Parker, it's Sam. Sydney arrived a few minutes ago, we picked him up in the main lobby and followed him. He made a beeline for Sl-11."

"Sl-11? What the hell is he doing down there?"

"Miss Parker, he seems disoriented, he doesn't recognize me at all. And he's asking what happened to some kid; I think he means Jarod. Something's really wrong."

Parker swallowed hard, "Keep him there, Sam. I'll be right down."

Sam hung up the phone and released a huge sigh of air, as he walked back into the room. Sydney was standing with his back up against the wall, fear filling his eyes.

Sam tried to make his voice as even as possible, "Relax, doctor, no one's going to hurt you. Miss Parker is on her way."

Sydney's eyes flicked up to Sam's at the mention of Parker's name, and the sweeper felt slightly relieved; at least the doctor recognized something. He took a tentative step toward Sydney, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, intending to clean up the deep cut on the man's forehead, but stopped when he read the panic on Sydney's face.

Sam held up his hands in acquiescence, "Take it easy, I just wanted to check that cut on your head, it looks pretty bad."

Sydney ran a hand across his brow and wiped away some blood, "I'm fine."

Miss Parker walked into the room, stopping about halfway between the door and the back wall, "Sydney, what are you doing?"

The relief in Sydney's voice was obvious, "Thank god....do you know where they've taken him?"

Parker frowned at him, "Taken who, Syd?"

His face filled with confusion, "Jarod. Where have they taken Jarod?"

She walked slowly toward him, "Sydney, Jarod's been gone for five years. You know that."

Panic flecked the brown eyes, "Gone? What do you mean gone? He was just here yesterday....he gave me--" He stopped himself when he saw the way she was looking at him. His voice turned to a whisper, "Catherine, what's going on?"

Parker's eyes widened, "Catherine? Sydney, it's me, Miss Parker, Catherine's daughter."

He stared at her, "What kind of game is this?"

The full force of the situation began to dawn on Parker, and she cautiously moved closer to him, "This isn't a game, Syd. My mother....my mother is dead. She died a long time ago, you know that."

He swallowed hard, "Raines has gotten to you, hasn't he? Why Catherine? Why would you betray me?"

"Syd, I haven't betrayed you, I promise you."

"Then where the hell is Jarod? Tell me!"

She bit down on her lower lip slightly, thinking, "What year is it Sydney?" He stared at her as if she had lost her mind, and she continued, "Just humour me, okay. Tell me what year this is."

"1968."

Parker let out a breath of air, smiled gently at Sydney and turned to Sam, "Okay.....Sam, I want you to get Broots down here, and then I need you to find out where Raines is, and......."

"And?"

"Make sure he stays away from the lobby and the garage for the next twenty minutes or so. If he gets wind of this, Sydney's toast." He nodded and started to leave, she grabbed his jacket, "And Sam....if anything goes wrong, and anyone at the Centre finds out that Sydney is a few fries short of a happy meal today, I'm blaming you. You got me?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay, go, and take the rest of your team with you."

"Miss Parker, are you sure--"

"--I can handle Sydney, just get Broots, and do what I told you."

Sam nodded and left, taking the rest of the sweepers with him. Parker turned back to Sydney, and tried to smile reassuringly.

"It's going to be okay, Syd."

He stared at her, saying nothing, but the distrust in his eyes was apparent. Parker spotted the package on the floor, and bent down, picking it up.

"What this?"

He looked away, "Something for Jarod."

Her eyes filled slightly, and she blinked away the emotion, "We'll have to make sure that he gets it then, won't we?"

He looked at her, hard, his eyes still unsure. Parker walked toward him slowly, holding the package out for him to reclaim. Gently he took it from her, and then she moved closer, standing a few feet from him.

"That cut on your head's gotta hurt, Syd, maybe we should clean it up a little, huh?"

"It's fine."

She could sense his lack of faith in her, "Syd, you can trust me, you know that."

His big brown eyes blinked at her, and it created an image of how he must have looked as a little boy hoping for someone to help him out of the hell called Dachau. It hurt her to think of it.

She reached her hand out toward him, "I'm going to help you, Syd, I promise you."

His voice was soft, vulnerable, "I don't understand what's going on...."

Broots walked in carrying a paper bag, and Sydney darted toward the corner, an irrational fear gripping him.

Parker stopped Broots with a hand, "I don't know how much Sam told you--"

"--Nothing. Just that you needed me, and it was urgent." Broots stared at the man glaring at him, "Syd, you okay?"

"Who the hell are you?" He turned to Parker, "Who the hell is he?"

"Syd, it's me, it's Broots--"

"He isn't quite himself today, Scooby Doo, so, just be patient and non threatening as possible; he's got the nerves of a spooked colt in a thunder storm." She looked down at the tech, who was gripping a paper bag to his chest, "Couldn't go anywhere without your brown paper bag?"

"I was about to eat lunch, Miss Parker."

"Little early, isn't it?"

"I was hungry."

Parker rolled her eyes at Broots, and turned back toward Sydney, "Sydney, Broots is a friend. He's going to help us out a little."

Once again, she extended her hand toward the psychiatrist, "Come on, come with me." He glared at her, and she softened her voice, "Sydney, I'm going to take you to someone who can help you."

"Will you take me to Jarod?"

"Syd--"

He pleaded with her, "--Catherine, please....."

Broots started to open his mouth, but was silenced when he saw the look on Parker's face. She closed the distance to Sydney, and stood very close to him, taking his hand in hers, she placed her other on his chest.

"Listen to your heart, Syd, what does it tell you?"

His eyes searched hers, and for the first time, Parker saw a flash of the man she knew.

"That I should trust you."

She nodded, "Yes. Come on, Broots, don't just stand there catching flies in your mouth." She tossed the keys she pulled from her pocket to the tech, "You drive."

Broots leaned in toward her as they walked toward the elevators, "Where are we going?"

"St. Ignatious Church."

"You think a priest can fix this?"

A particular one, yes.

Parker stabbed the up button, calling the elevator. She felt the tremor in Sydney's hand and glanced up into his face; all the colour had drained from it, and he looked as though a strong wind might blow him over.

"Syd?"

"I don't want to go to St. Ignatious."

"Why not?'

"I don't know. I just....I don't want to go there."

The elevator car arrived, and Sydney was shaking with an irrational fear that Parker knew she couldn't combat.

She gripped his hand tighter, "It's all right, we won't take you there, then." Broots glanced at her questioningly as they stepped onto the elevator, "I'm sure I can bring the mountain to Mohammed, Broots."

"Around here it's a daily occurrence," the tech muttered.

The doors to the elevator closed and Sydney began to hyperventilate. Parker grabbed the paper bag Broots was holding, and upended it, dumping all the bag's contents onto the floor.

"Miss Parker--"

"--Shut up, Spanky." He glared at her, "Would you rather see Syd asphyxiate?"

Broots said nothing as he watched Parker press the bag to Sydney's mouth, while stroking the back of his head with her other hand.

"Breath slowly, Sydney. You'll be fine."

She hoped that her words sounded more convincing than they felt.

*****************

Raines looked up casually from the file he was perusing as Parker burst through his office door, "What do you want, Mr. Parker?"

Parker stalked up to the other side of the desk and leaned down on it, "What do you think you're doing?"

Raines smiled, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've just come from the Tower, Raines. You've implicated my daughter in this mess."

Raines stood, still smiling, "I had to do something to get your attention."

"Well you've got it. What do you want?"

"A truce."

Parker laughed, "I've still got the upper hand, Raines--"

Raines tossed an envelope in front of Parker, "--Not anymore."

Parker rifled through the surveillance photos of his daughter smuggling Sydney out of the building, "So what? This proves nothing."

"It doesn't need to; it only matters what it looks like, and it looks like your daughter is protecting the man who killed an innocent child during a reckless experiment. Perhaps she's covering his mistakes daily, who's to say?"

"Jack Carnes switched the chemicals, the Triumvirate knows that."

"But you and I both know that the Triumvirate will hold Sydney ultimately responsible for the child's death; it was his sim and his lab. There's no reason that this can't work in both our favours, don't you agree?" Parker said nothing, so Raines continued, "What I'm wondering is how long you think you can hide your pay off to Jack Carnes." Parker's eyes darted to Raines, and the latter smiled, "Yes, I know all about it, Parker. The man's mother and sisters were dirt poor, eating out of garbage cans until about two weeks ago, when they suddenly turned up in Buenos Aires living like queens. I'm sure the man was more than willing to take the wrap in exchange for his family's comfort and safety."

"And we're back to, what do you want?"

"Sydney. The man has been a thorn in both our sides for more than thirty years. He will continue to stand in the way of the work that we can accomplish here; that's exactly why you were more than willing to sacrifice him in order to get to me. You've only kept him on this long because of your daughter, and we both know it."

"Get to the point, Raines."

"You side with me on this to the Triumvirate; we pin it on Sydney, which won't be very difficult, now that he's gone over the edge."

"Yes, thanks to you."

"I thought Mrs. Maisel was a nice touch," Raines purred, smiling.

"How much did she cost you?"

"Less than Jack Carnes cost you, Parker."

Parker smiled like a shark; Raines still didn't realize that he was still missing a large piece of the puzzle, "What do I get in return for my cooperation?"

"I will owe you a very large favour, Mr. Parker."

"And my daughter?"

"I can smooth that over with the Triumvirate. Are we agreed?"

"Yes, agreed."

Parker moved toward the door and then turned back, "Raines, if the truth ever comes out about the boy--"

"--It won't."

"For your sake, it had better not."

Parker pulled the door open and left as quickly as he had come, leaving Raines to ponder the threat, and knowing that what Raines didn't realize about Sydney in all this was so much the better for Mr. Parker's position.

*****************

Lincoln Towncar

Broots opened all the windows, trying in vain to air out the car. Miss Parker sat in the back seat with Sydney, holding the bag for him as he continued to be violently ill.

The assault stopped momentarily, and he leaned his head on Parker's shoulder, "I'm sorry...."

She rubbed her hand in gentle circles on his back, "It's okay, Syd, just try and relax."

"I don't know what's wrong, this has never happened to me before."

"It's a panic attack, Sydney. You've been under a lot of stress lately, and it's catching up with you, that's all."

"I'm so confused. Nothing looks the way it's supposed to.... everything feels wrong somehow."

"It's all going to be okay, try not to worry."

He dove for the bag again, and Parker barely got it to his mouth in time. She noticed that Broots was looking a little pallid.

"Please tell me that you're not a sympathetic puker, Jughead."

"Not usually, but damn....."

"If I can hold the bag from back here, Broots, you can drive from up there."

The choking sounds next to her recaptured her attention.

She stroked the back of his head trying to soothe him, "Easy now, Syd....try and stay calm." She growled once more at Broots, "Can't you go any faster, Spanky?"

*****************

Miss Parker's House

His eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open anyway. He recognized the concerned dark grey eyes staring at him; Catherine Parker.

"Sydney?"

"What happened?"

"You passed out."

He looked around the room, and realized that he was in bed, "How did I get here?"

He reached for the bandage on his forehead and Parker swatted his hand away, "Broots helped me get you up here, and don't touch that."

"Broots? Oh yeah, that new fellow you introduced me to earlier. Catherine, how do you know he's trustworthy?"

Parker sighed, "I told you, Syd, he's a friend. And another friend is coming here later. His name is Thomas, and he's going to help you." Something sparked in his eyes, and Parker pushed him, "Sydney? What?"

"It's....nothing really. I just....there was something familiar about the way you said his name."

Parker looked down, realizing that somewhere in the worm fight that was Sydney's mind, he knew her, and he remembered her Thomas.

She ran a hand across his brow, "I used to know someone else with that name. When Fr. Tom gets here, Syd--"

"Father Tom? This man is a priest?"

"Yes, but he's also--"

"--I don't want to talk to a priest. I have nothing to confess..."

He was quickly reaching an agitated state, and Parker wanted to avoid a repeat of the panic attack from earlier, "He's not exactly a priest, Syd, he's uhm.....well, he's a Jesuit, and he's also a psychiatrist."

"Now you're telling me that Jesuits aren't priests?"

"Well, not in the normal sense of the word." He looked at her dubiously, and she smiled, "Okay, he's still a priest, but Syd, he's a Jesi...how bad can it be? Besides Freud, he speaks your language."

"What language would that be?"

"Psycho babble. You two will get along just fine."

"Why did you call me Freud?"

Parker tapped the end of his nose with her finger, "Because it's what I always call you; you just don't remember that right now."

He looked into her eyes, "I remember you, Catherine."

"Yes, I know you remember her." She stood up, and kissed his forehead, "Get some rest, I'll wake you when Fr. Tom gets here."

His voice had hints of sleepiness in it, "I don't want to talk to him."

"But you're going to humour me, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Go to sleep, Freud."

"Stop calling me that."

"No."

His eyes closed and Parker quietly left the room, closing the door behind her. She walked downstairs and into the living room, where Broots was sitting.

"How's he doing?"

"Aside from the fact that he's pale, worn out, got a gash the size of Massachusetts on his forehead, thinks it's 1968, and that I'm my mother, he's fine."

"Oh."

Parker looked out the window, and the glint of chrome caught her eyes. She moved closer, surveying the street; three black Lincoln towncars.

"Damnit."

"What?"

"Sweepers."

"What do you think that means?"

"I haven't a clue, Broots, other than to tell you that it can't possibly be good."

She picked up the phone and the worry in Broots' voice was clear, "Who're you calling?"

"My father...."

The deep voice answered on the other end of the line, "Yes?"

"Daddy."

"Angel, where are you?"

"I'm at home, Daddy, wondering why they are three sweeper teams parked outside my house."

There was a momentary silence on the other end, then, "Sweetheart, things are a little sticky around here. Look, I know Sydney's with you, why don't you just bring him in, and we'll--"

"--Bring him in? No way. Raines will send him to the wolves, Daddy."

"We all know what happened this morning."

"Sam told you?"

"No, he didn't have to; after what Sydney pulled in Raines' office yesterday, the Triumvirate wanted a shadow team on him. Besides, it was only a matter of time before he went south on us, all psychiatrists are crazy, Angel, that's a fact."

"Sydney's not crazy."

"No? What would you call it? He thinks you're--"

"--They'll lock him up, Daddy, I can't let that happen."

"Honey, I know you think you're doing what's best, but--"

"--Daddy, please.....call off the sweepers outside and give me some time. Look, the Triumvirate knows that Eric's death wasn't Syd's fault, right?" Mr. Parker remained silent, and his daughter frowned, "What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing. I'll give you a few days, but I'm keeping the sweepers outside, just in case."

"Just in case, what...?"

"He did try to kill Raines yesterday, who's to say that it won't be you tomorrow?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Just be careful, Angel."

"Good-bye, Daddy." She hung up the phone and stared at Broots, "Well, we're up shit creek with no paddle now...."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we don't have all the pieces to this puzzle, Broots."

The door bell rang, interrupting them. Parker opened it, to find Fr. Rausch standing on her doorstep.

"Thanks for coming."

He stepped inside, "I'm sorry that things have taken a turn for the worse, but as I told you on the phone, Miss Parker, you really should take him to a facility."

Parker indicated Broots, "This is Mr. Broots, a colleague of mine, and if you'll follow me, I'll show you where Sydney is."

"Miss Parker, did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, father, I did. There isn't a lot of choice here; there are....extenuating circumstances."

"What kind of circumstances?"

"It's better for you if I don't tell you."

"What, do you people work for the CIA or something?"

Broots and Parker exchanged an amused glance, and she answered, "Or something....please, follow me."

The priest followed her up the stairs and into the room where Sydney was sleeping. Parker sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Syd?" He stirred quickly and Parker smiled at him, "The man I told you about is here to see you."

"The priest who isn't...."

"I'm Fr. Tom, and I really am a priest."

Sydney smiled, "It was a little Jesuit joke from earlier."

"If you don't mind, I'll leave you two alone."

Sydney grabbed her with a hand on her sleeve, "Wait...."

She took Sydney's hand, "You'll be fine. He's here to help you, Syd, just let him, okay?"

She brushed his forehead with her hand and left the room, closing the door behind her. The two men stared at each other in awkward silence for awhile. Finally, Fr. Rausch pulled a chair next to the bed, and sat in it.

"I don't need to talk you to you. I'm not nuts."

He looked at the older man thoughtfully, "No, but you think it's 1968, despite the fact that Miss Parker told you otherwise, don't you?"

"Well, one of us is obviously confused. Who's to say it's me?"

The priest smiled at him, "True. I think for the sake of argument then, that we should discover which one of you is confused. What do you say to that idea?"

Sydney just stared at the man, as closed mouthed as an oyster in August.

"Whatever you say to me, Sydney, it will stay in this room, you have my word on it."

"Your word? I don't even know you."

"I'm a priest, think of this as having the seal of confession."

"Priests are not to be trusted."

Fr. Tom looked at Sydney, who seemed slightly surprised by his own words, "What makes you say that?"

"I....I don't know where that came from."

"You seem to be harbouring some deep resentment toward the church in general Sydney, do you know why?"

"No. I was raised a catholic, my brother Jacob and I were altar boys before--"

"--Before?"

"Before Dachau."

"Tell me about that, Sydney."

The fear filling the older man's eyes made Fr. Tom uneasy. It was the same fear he had seen in Sydney the night before. He swallowed hard; instead of helping, there was the distinct possibility he could make matters worse. Tom hoped he wasn't heading down the wrong side of the tracks....

*************

The Centre
Mr. Raines' Office


"Miss Parker," Broots whispered, "we're going to get caught in here."

"Not if you keep your pants on, Scooby Doo."

"Just being in here gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, Nosferatu's mojo is everywhere."

The lock of the bottom drawer finally clicked and Parker smiled, "Wonder if the Centre ever thought its training would be so handy at moments like these..."

"Could you just hurry up?"

"Don't tell me you have to pee again...."

"Hey, I drank that whole 32 oz. coke from 7-11, give me a break."

Parker searched through the file folders and finally found one marked Maisel. She opened it and began scanning the pages.

"Hey, Broots, write this address down, 3924 Cassel Road, Cape Cod."

The tech grabbed a pen off Raines' desk and scribbled onto his hand, "Got it. Can we go now?"

Parker, having witnessed his dictation prowess, shook her head at him, "Yeah, let's go."

******************

Miss Parker's House

Broots and Parker snuck through the neighbour's yard, heading back into Parker's property the same way they had left it; through the back yard, and away from prying eyes. They quickly walked through the back door, and Parker started at the sound of the male voice in her kitchen.

"Find everything you went searching for?"

"Fr. Tom, you scared the....crap out of me."

He laughed, "Uh-huh."

"How's Sydney?"

"He's asleep. I think I wore him out, we talked through most of the night."

He nodded for Parker to follow him into the living room. Broots started to follow, but she stopped him, sensing that the priest wanted to speak only to her.

"Broots, do me a favour and put on some coffee, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Parker followed Fr. Tom into the living room, and they sat down on the couch and in a chair, respectively.

"How bad is it?"

"Well, as I suspected, his subconscious mind has retreated into a time and place it considers safe, in order to avoid facing something that it instinctively knows is too painful for his conscious mind to handle."

"I don't completely understand; Sydney has dealt with a lot of pain in his life. Why now? Why this?"

"He hasn't come clean with me yet, but this boy Eric seems to be the catalyst. You can think of this as a slow burn, and Eric, a can of gasoline. All of the pain Sydney's faced in his life has cornerstoned like blocks, one on top of the other. The layers of guilt I'm sensing from him are immense. Culpability, betrayal.... on some level he feels abandoned by everyone and everything he's ever trusted or loved in his life. The church, his parents, his brother, this student of his, Jarod; he no longer feels safe enough to remain in the present time, with the weight of all of his past experiences on him."

"So he likes 1968 better than 2001.....can't we just tell him to get over it?"

"I wish it were that simple, but as a psychiatrist himself, Sydney has an edge on most mental patients; he knows exactly how and where to go in his mind to hide."

"Are you saying there's nothing you can do?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that this could take awhile, and he may or may not recover."

Stunned, Parker, stood up, and began to pace the length of the living room.

"I can't accept that. I have to get Sydney back. There must be something we can do."

"There is one thing...."

"What?"

"If you can help him right whatever this terrible wrong is that he seems to think he's committed against Eric..." The look on her face said it all, "I take it that's out of the question?"

"Unless you know how to bring the dead back to life, father, yeah, it's out of the question."

"Death. I should have known."

"Known what?"

"It's often the death of someone close that brings us to our most vulnerable point, allowing the mind to collapse into itself."

"You don't understand. Sydney thinks he's responsible for the death of a child who was placed in his care. His own guilt was compounded by the grief stricken mother who let him have it and then some."

"And you're saying that he is not responsible?"

The anger in her voice was evident, "No, he is not."

"I'm not accusing, Miss Parker, just trying to understand, as best I can, the situation with which I am dealing."

"I'm sorry."

"That's all right, you're very protective of him." The priest glanced at his watch, "I'm afraid I must go; I can't be late for the morning mass, it would only lend credence to all of those Jesuit jokes."

Parker chuckled, "Thank you so much, Fr. Rausch, I really appreciate it."

"Please, call me Fr. Tom, and I'm happy to try and help. I'll come by later on and talk with him some more."

"Thank you."

She saw the man out, and started back toward the kitchen, but changed her mind. She quickly went up the stairs and into the guest room. Sydney was sound asleep, tangled in the comforter. Parker gently untangled him, and neatly replaced the covers on top of him.

She stroked his face lightly, "Please don't disappear in there, Syd. I need you."

Parker retreated and closed the door softly behind her. She stopped on the landing, setting her hands on the bannister, staring out into nothing. There had to be a solution. As always when the Centre was involved with something, there were tons of questions, and very few answers. But Sydney needed answers. And she needed to find them for him.

Her father and Mr. Raines were hiding something from her, she could feel it. The game the two of them were playing was becoming more dangerous by the day, and it was obvious that they were not concerned with the welfare of bystanders such as Eric and Sydney. A passing thought hit her: Perhaps Sydney wasn't a bystander at all, but rather the main player without knowing it. But what was to be gained by offing him, by whom, and why? There were the obvious answers: Raines wanted rid of him simply because Sydney rarely agreed with the man's tactics and opposed him at every turn. But what about Mr. Parker? The man who had raised her; what did he gain by Sydney's departure from the scene?

She closed her eyes in fear. It had to be something that ran very deep, something very old; something which had been kept hidden in the cobwebs of the Centre for so long, it could cause panic amongst some of the coolest players. Sydney was at the crux of it; and he didn't even know it. The poor man's very sanity was in doubt. It was up to her to pull him through it, and to uncover whatever crooked corner her father and Mr. Raines were desperately trying to straighten.

She closed her eyes as the tears fell unbidden down her face, her whisper rising on the unseen smoke of incense, "Please...show me how to help him through this....."

fin