Incense Rising Part III

THE PRETENDER
Incense Rising Part III
by the lurker

3924 Cassel Road
Cape Cod


Parker noted that the house looked perfectly typical from the outside. Slate blue in colour, white picket fence running round the perimeter; the only thing missing was the 2.1 kids and the dog in the front yard. Broots followed Parker up the walkway, and nervously put his hands in his pockets when she rang the bell.

Parker glared in his direction, If you ask to use the restroom, I swear to god, you're walking back to Blue Cove.

Jeez....shouldn't my bathroom habits be my own personal business?

Do you really want me to answer that?

As he opened his mouth to retort, the door to the house opened, revealing a tall man in his forties.

Yes, may I help you?

Parker smiled gently, My name is Miss Parker, this is Mr. Broots. We work for......the Centre. I was wondering if I might speak to Mrs. Maisel.

Parker paused, waiting for a reaction which didn't come.

She exchanged a look with Broots, and then continued, I apologize for disturbing you, Mr......?

The man's brows narrowed, I'm sorry....what is this concerning?

Parker's eyes filled with confusion, We work for the Centre, and it concerns Mrs. Maisel's son.

The man's face turned hopeful, Eric? Have you found Eric?

Another look passed between Broots and Parker, and she smiled carefully at the man, Found him?

Yes...my son Eric is missing. The Centre.....are you some kind of government agency or something? Did you find my son?

Your son?

Yes, I'm George Maisel, Eric's father.

Parker just stared at the man for a moment, trying to put together pieces that didn't fit.

She recovered, May I please speak with Mrs. Maisel, is she home?

The door opened wider and a tall, lithe woman in her mid forties stood next to Mr. Maisel, her voice was shaking, Did you find Eric or not?

Parker stared at the woman, And you are?

The woman glared at Parker, Mrs. Maisel. Her voice turned slightly hysterical, Where is my son? Where is Eric?

Broots started to say something, but Parker stopped him with a hand on his arm. Calming her outward appearance, she spoke again to the couple.

No, I'm sorry, but we haven't. We don't mean to trouble you, but we're working in conjunction with the other agencies, and we just need some more information, if you don't mind.

The Maisels exchanged a look, and after a moment, Mr. Maisel invited them inside.

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

Miss Parker's House

Sydney sat at the end of the large couch in the living room, his hand tapping on the armrest. He didn't want to think about Dr. Krieg, nor his time at Dachau. He just wanted to be left alone. Damn Catherine for making him speak with this man again. He looked up at the priest sitting in the chair next to him, and he wanted nothing more than to tell him to leave and never come back.

The impatience showed in his tone, I already told you; there's nothing significant about my time with Dr. Krieg. The Nazis abducted my family, interned us in a camp, killed my family and used Jacob and I for experiments. End of story.

Fr. Tom arched an eyebrow in Sydney's direction, And you don't feel that this experience has in any way scarred you as an adult?

Of course it scarred me. I simply don't allow it to rule me. There's a difference.

He knew that Sydney was going to be a tough nut to crack, he just hadn't realized how tough.

Tom nodded, All right. Let's move on to your brother.

What about him?

You haven't said much about him.

I have nothing to say.

Sydney, I can't help you, unless you talk to me.

Sydney smiled, I don't remember saying that I required your help. I'm only going along with this because I know it's important to Catherine.

And she is important to you.



Tell me about your relationship with her.

Relationship with her? Sydney laughed, You make it sound so sordid. We're friends, Fr. Rausch, good friends.

And there's nothing more?

Sydney's smile disappeared, No, and I resent the implication.

So I see. Why?

She's married.

Tom looked at Sydney carefully, Hmmm, not because you don't have feelings for her, but because she's married, that's interesting--

--Don't put words in my mouth.

The priest watched the older man for a moment; he was hiding something.

Tom smiled, Which words, Sydney?

The psychiatrist glared, I don't have feelings for her.

Really....she's your friend, but you have no feelings.

That's not what I meant, and you know it.

What do you mean, Sydney?

A sardonic chuckle escaped Sydney's mouth, I simply meant that I have no romantic feelings for Catherine.

I see.

Do you?

Tom smiled gently, You seem uncomfortable with this subject.

Sydney stood up, I'm uncomfortable with you.

You don't even know me, doctor.

I don't have to know you, the Ro--

Sydney stopped himself, letting out a long sigh of air. He looked to the floor and squeezed the muscles of his neck with his hand.

Tom's voice brought Sydney's eyes back to meet the younger man's, The Roman collar's enough for you, isn't it?

An ironic rush of air blew through Sydney's lips, and he looked away. It was going to be a long session.

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

3924 Cassel Road
Cape Cod

Mrs. Maisel couldn't stop the tears flowing down her cheeks, nor could she keep her hands from shaking.

Mr. Maisel stood behind his wife's chair, his hand protectively on her shoulder, I'm sorry Miss Parker, but I don't understand why you're making my wife hash through this again.

I apologize, Mr. Maisel; it will be extremely helpful in our investigation if we receive the information first hand. I understand how difficult this must be, and I'm very sorry.

Broots shot Parker a glare which could only come from a sympathetic parent. In response Parker gave him a warning look clearly indicating that he should remain silent. He sat back on the couch, his arms crossing in front of his chest.

Parker turned back to Mrs. Maisel, who was sitting in the chair next to her, Please continue, Mrs. Maisel, when you're ready.

It's as I told the police that afternoon. Eric was in the backyard, playing in his treehouse. I was in the kitchen, making dinner. The phone rang, and it was some kind of poll......

A poll?

Yes, it was a Nielsen poll; they just wanted to ask a few questions about the television programs we watch.

Mrs. Maisel looked away, unsuccessfully trying to hold the tears back. Her husband gently squeezed her shoulder in quiet support. After a moment, she turned back to face Miss Parker.

It took maybe seven minutes for me to answer the questions, and when I finished, I hung up the phone, and looked out the kitchen window, to check on Eric. And....and--

And he was gone?

Her voice was filled with sadness,

And the police never found any clues?

Mr. Maisel spoke up, Nothing. No signs of struggle, no fingerprints; no one saw a thing out on the street. It's as if he .....

Broots looked at the man, Disappeared into thin air.



Parker stood up and shook hands with each of the Maisels, Thank you so much for your time, we really appreciate it.

Broots followed Parker to the door, and Mr. Maisel held it open for them. As Parker hit the last step on the porch, Maisel called to her.

Miss Parker?



Please find my son.

Parker swallowed hard, trying to keep her throat from welling up completely, We'll do our best.

With a slightly renewed hope, Mr. Maisel smiled at them, and closed the door. The look of disgust Broots gave Parker as he shook his head and walked to the car, couldn't match the self loathing that was quickly filling her heart.

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

The Centre

The dark corridor of SL-19 felt like a wind tunnel. He made a mental note to have maintenance check into it. The sound of squeaky wheels approaching, alerted him to the fact that Raines was there. Parker looked at his watch; five minutes past the hour. The squeaking stopped and Mr. Parker fixed his eyes on the bald headed man before him.

You're late.

It couldn't be helped.

What do you want? Raines checked the corridor as if looking for prying eyes or ears, and Parker's patience quickly waned, You know damned well that there is no one down here and that there are no security cameras, or you wouldn't have chosen this corridor. Get to the point, I haven't got all day.

Several members of the Triumvirate have called Jack Carnes back for more questioning. It seems that some are not convinced that he acted alone.

Parker's eyes narrowed, I heard nothing of this...

Relax. He won't get there. Parker released a sigh of air, and Raines smiled, Consider it an act of good faith from me to you. I've taken care of the Carnes problem....

And now it's time for me to turn their attention to Sydney, is that it?

I'm glad we understand each other.

Raines walked past Parker and watched as the man disappeared into the depths of the corridor beyond. He shivered slightly, unsure if it was due to the chill of the draft, or something far more tangible.

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

I-195, Massachusetts
Parker's Car


The air in the car was stifling. Broots had said not a word to her since they had left the Maisel's house. She knew why he was upset, and she couldn't blame him; but there had been no alternative.

Are you going to pout all the way back to Delaware? Broots looked away, and Parker continued, Fine. Be that way.

Parker switched on the radio. Two seconds later, Broots switched it off. She sighed heavily, then stabbed her finger at the on button once again; and just as quickly, Broots hit it again.

Her voice carried a tough edge, Stop acting like a five year old. There was no other way to handle it.

So giving the Maisels false hope that their son is alive was okay for you....

In this situation, yeah; there was no other way to get the information.

The end justifies the means. How Raineseque of you.

The barb hurt, but Parker kept her voice calm, Look, Broots, I would never have-- if there had been another way, I would have taken it.

Save it for someone who cares.

Parker jarred him in his seat, as she swerved into the right shoulder, slamming on the brakes of the big towncar. Her voice was filled with anger.

I did what had to be done. I'd do it again. He didn't look at her, much less answer, so she continued, The Mrs. Maisel we just met, was not the woman who attacked Sydney in the corridor at the Centre, Mr. Maisel, who supposedly died when Eric was a baby, is very much alive, and I'll bet you a Fajita-pita, that the Nielson' call came from the Centre. And obviously someone at the Centre lied to Sydney about how Eric was recruited.

Broots looked at her, Are you sure?

Parker glared at him, What are you saying? That Sydney knew? She turned away, gripping the steering wheel hard, That would make this the pretender project all over again.

Nothing else makes sense.

Parker frowned, Syd didn't know that the woman impersonating Mrs. Maisel at the Centre was not the real one. And Broots, we know that Raines is in on this, so you can rest assured that Eric was adjusted' before he ever got to Sydney.

But why?

It's all tied into setting Sydney up. Somebody wants him gone.

Sydney's been around for more than thirty years, why now?

That's the question for us to answer, isn't it.....

Parker put the car back into gear and merged back onto the highway.

Broots had seen the look on her face before, and he knew it meant trouble, Oh boy.....

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

Miss Parker's House

Why don't you tell me about the work you do.

Sydney's tone carried fear, I can't.

Why not?

I just can't.

Tom shifted in his chair, Is it classified?

Sydney smiled uneasily, Something like that.

What about this boy.....Jarod.

What about him?

You haven't said much, but I've gathered by your tone, that you're very fond of him.

Sydney's eyes darted to the coffee table, and the gift he had bought for Jarod, which was sitting there. Tom followed Sydney's gaze, landing on the rectangular present.

That for him?

Sydney frowned,

What's in it?'

Sydney picked the gift up, holding it gently, It doesn't matter.

Then why not tell me?

After a moment, Sydney unwrapped the present and handed it to Tom, who took the framed picture into his hands, studying it. The time period looked to be somewhere in the early forties, and he could see where parts of the photograph had faded over time. There was a tall man, walking away from the camera, down a road, he was holding a little boy's hand.

The priest looked up at Sydney, You and your father?

Yes. It's the only surviving photo of just the two of us. My brother and I found it amongst the rubble of our house after the war.

He handed it back to Sydney, Why are you giving it to Jarod?

Sydney's mouth pulled into a straight line, Jarod has no family. He's a little boy, alone, and I thought.....

What, Sydney? You can say it.

Sydney swallowed down the lump in his throat, He gave me a father's day card, and I--

His eyes filled with tears, and he looked down at his hands.

Tom frowned,

I told him he was never to do it again, that I wasn't his father. And then--

Sydney couldn't keep the tears from falling.

Tom moved to sit on the coffee table right in front of him, laying a supportive hand on his shoulder, It's all right, Sydney, just tell me.

I put it in the trash can, right there, in front of him. The sadness in Sydney's tone tore at the priest's heart, He looked so hurt, I had to leave the room.

This boy isn't your son?



But you think of him that way....

Fear filled Sydney's eyes as he barked out the answer,

Yet you want to give him the only picture of you with your father; that is something a man gives to his family. You're not telling me the truth, Sydney.

Sydney stared deeply into the man's eyes, The truth is whatever I say it is, father.

Is that what the people you work for have told you?

No. I learned that one from the people you work for.....

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

The Centre

Miss Parker stepped into the foyer of the office floor, and was confronted with an eerie sight. The elevator was open, roped off, with sweepers and cleaners crawling all over the place. A photographer was taking pictures of the inside of the elevator car, and she had to turn away. The hand touching her back a moment later made her jump.

Easy, honey, it's me.

She tried to keep her voice calm, Daddy....what's going on?

He followed her gaze to the elevator shaft, Jack Carnes couldn't take the guilt I guess.

Parker stared into her father's eyes,

He was called back to the Tower for more questioning regarding the....incident. He wasn't where he was supposed to be this morning, and a sweeper team found him in the elevator, dead.



A strange emotion played across Mr. Parker's face, Now honey, what does it matter? Dead is dead.

Tell me.

It was suicide.

He shot himself, didn't he? In the same elevator car--

Her emotions swirling, she started to walk away from him, but he grabbed her hand, pulling her into his embrace, Angel....you mustn't let this upset you. Carnes obviously felt remorse over the boy, and couldn't take it.

She looked up at him, Did he ever say who put him up to it?

I'm afraid not. He held her at arm's length, Honey, you understand what will have to happen.....

Yeah....Sydney will be fired and tossed out into the streets. Is that how we say thank you for over thirty years of service to the Centre?

Taking her by the arm, he started walking them toward his office, Don't be so dramatic, Angel, Sydney will be taken care of.

She stopped walking and glared at him, What does that mean?

He exhaled deeply, Just that we'll be sure to get him the best psychiatric care available.

Which translated means you're going to have him institutionalized. Daddy, you can't just lock him up for the rest of his life--

He grabbed her hard by the arms, --Now you listen to me; Sydney has been insubordinate for years, and I can't protect him anymore. Not this time, not even for you. Obviously the man was on the edge when he allowed the experiment to take place, and now a child is dead. The only thing that's going to keep our asses out of a courtroom, is a large settlement to the boy's mother, and proof that the mad scientist who killed her son has been locked up.

Miss Parker studied his eyes for a moment, then chose her words carefully, Have you met with Mrs. Maisel?

Our lawyers have.

She nodded slowly, wrapped her arm through his and started them walking again, Daddy, how did the Centre find Eric Maisel anyway?

Usual channels, I suppose....Sydney recruited him, so you'd have to ask him.

Sydney doesn't even know what year it is right now.

Yes, well..... He kissed her cheek, Have dinner with me?

I would Daddy, but, I should check on Syd.

Why don't we get him settled here, in the Renewal Wing?

She smiled sweetly at him, In a few days, Daddy. He deserves at least that.....just so that he's over the shock, you know?

I don't like it...what if he goes off the deep end and tries to hurt you?

I tell you what, Daddy. I'll allow Sam to stay in the house, if you call off the rest of the sweepers. He frowned at her, and she pushed on, Then you won't have to worry. Sam will be right there in case Dr. Strangelove explodes.

His eyes narrowed, trying to gauge her level of sincerity, he smiled back, Fine. You know best.

She kissed him and walked the long way around the foyer, avoiding the elevators. He watched her, the smile on his face never reaching his eyes.

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

Raines' Office

Parker entered quickly and quietly, walking to the desk where Raines was seated.

We need a shadow team.

Then it hit him, You let her talk you out of the sweepers posted in front of her house.

She didn't talk me out of anything. If I had pushed, she would have become suspicious. My daughter isn't stupid, if we're not careful, she could put some of this together.

Has she asked about the boy's mother?

I took care of it. Parker looked at his watch, I'm going to be late for a meeting.

He headed out, but Raines called to him, See that Miss Parker stays under your control.

Parker glared, but said nothing. Raines smiled as he watched the chairman exit the room.

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

Miss Parker's House

Sydney glared at Sam, then at Miss Parker, Catherine, I don't understand why you're keeping me here.

I'm not, exactly.

You are, and his presence here proves it.

Miss Parker sighed and looked at Sam, Would you give us a minute please?

Sam nodded and went into another room, closing the studio door behind him. Sydney crossed his arms in front of him, his anger bubbling through his veins.

Parker moved gently toward him, Syd, you've got to trust me.

I don't know what to think. You won't let me see Jarod, you're keeping me here against my will, forcing me to talk to that damnable priest....Catherine, I feel like I don't know who you are.

Parker set her hands on his crossed arms lightly, Sydney, you do know me, better than I know myself sometimes. You're just going through a rough time right now. I want to help you, but you have to let me.

Then allow me see Jarod.

She turned away from him, That's not possible, Syd.

He shook his head, Then we're at an impasse.

Damnit, how can I make you understand? How can I get through to you? She turned again to face him, It is not 1968, Jarod is no longer at the Centre, my mother and your brother are dead...don't you remember? We've been chasing Jarod's sorry ass all over the country for the past six years, and if I can't get you back to normal, they're going to bury you Sydney. His eyes held a strange gloss to them for a moment, and Parker grabbed his arms, I know you're in there. I need you, Syd.

He frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but just as quickly, it was all gone, and the man from 1968 had returned. And he was staring at her with nothing but hurt and distrust. Parker dejectedly plopped in the nearest chair, burying her head in her hands, leaning on her knees. After several minutes, she felt him kneel in front of her.

He gently took her hands in his, I'm sorry that I can't remember the things that you want me to....What I do remember, is that you're a very dear friend, and I've missed you.

She looked at him, Missed me? What do you mean, Sydney?

A look of confusion clouded his eyes, I'm....I'm not sure. I feel as though I haven't seen you in a long time, Catherine.

Parker exhaled an uneven breath and softly stroked the side of his face, Yeah, it's been awhile.

His eyes opened wider and held the innocence of a child, I miss talking with Jacob. I wish we could call him and go watch the sunset at the beach like we used to........

Tears filled her eyes, and she pulled him into her arms, hugging him tightly around the neck,

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

The Centre
Tower


Mr. Parker could feel the sweat sliding down underneath his shirt, as Mugambi spoke. The man had always given Parker the creeps, and since the death of Motumbo, he seemed even larger and more powerful. Although it was a clandestine meeting, and only Parker, Mugambi, Qalhata and Jordan Collins were there, Parker's skin continued to crawl in the man's presence, and in the light of their current predicament.

The deep voice continued, We cannot allow our control of shares to be lost, Parker. You understand the implications of this, do you not?

Quite well, just as I've understood them for the past thirty-one years, Mugambi.

Qalhata's velvety voice chimed in, We are the only people to know that Catherine Parker's will has been misinterpreted. The only reason that we allowed it, was because we wanted you to retain control of the Centre.

I understand that--

--Then understand this, Jordan's voice was much higher than the other two, but the steel quality of it grated along Parker's already fraying nerves, Nothing and no one will stand in the way.

Are you threatening me with my daughter?

A sarcastic smile appeared on Mugambi's face, You have lost control of...your daughter, Mr. Parker. How long do you think that you will be able to keep the entire truth from her?

She won't find out.

Qalhata smiled at him, See that she does not--

Jordan interrupted, --What are you doing about the problem itself?

His mind is three sheets to the wind, he isn't going to be a problem.

Qalhata asked, You'll have him committed to a Centre facility then?

Yes, in a few days.

Jordan broke in, I don't understand why the man is still alive. Can't he go the way of his brother or Jack Carnes? It would be a hell of a lot safer in the long run.

Parker glared at the man whom he always thought of as having the eyes of a rat, We cannot afford another accident' or suicide' right now. It would look far too suspicious to prying eyes. Parker smiled and headed toward the door, Now if you will excuse me, I have other things requiring my attention.

Mugambi's voice called to him, Is it that the Centre can ill afford another staged death, or are you just trying to protect Miss Parker from the pain of losing Sydney?

Parker's face turned dark as he reached for the door handle, We simply can't afford to become sloppy. End of story, Mugambi.

Without waiting for another comment, Parker opened the door and stormed through it.

Jordan turned to Mugambi, Can we continue to trust him?

We have never been able to trust him; we have simply controlled him through fear. We will continue with that. As long as we control him, and he maintains his percentage of Centre shares, we control the Centre.

Qalhata looked toward the door, Perhaps we would have had better luck if the rightful heir had received those shares thirty one years ago....

Mugambi stared at her, We would have had no control over him at all. Qalhata shrugged and Mugambi touched her arm with his hand, You feel sorry for him?

No. Of course not.

Qalhata returned her attention to a file in her lap, and Mugambi watched her a minute longer. He hoped that she was not going soft; a woman in her position could ill afford such a luxury.

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

Miss Parker's House

She sat back in her window seat, watching him stare into the fire across the room. She didn't know how to help him, nor if she even could. What if her father was right? What if Sydney had gone over a cliff, and he couldn't climb back up? She exhaled the air she was holding in; she didn't want to think of it. Her phone rang, pulling her attention away from her morbid thoughts.



Broots' voice answered her, Miss Parker, I've been doing some uhm, research, and I've found something really interesting.

Make it good Broots, it's late.

Well, you know how we were wondering why Jack Carnes would take the fall for this, knowing that he would probably end up dead?



I think I have the reason why....

While I'm young, Broots....

Yes, well, I was talking to my friend Hildy in accounting, you know, the woman with the large mole on her--

--Broots, I really don't care where her mole is, what is it?

Jeez, Miss Parker, it's not like it's on her--

BROOTS, YOU MORON....just get to the point.

Fine. Hildy happened to mention to me that it was too bad that Jack Carnes killed himself. When I asked her why, she said that it was sad that he would do it so soon after being able to set up his mother and sisters in a beautiful house in Buenos Aires. He apparently showed her pictures....

And just where does a sweeper get that kind of cash?

That was my question, so I started digging.



And I found an account for Mrs. Carnes. It was back channeled several times to try and cover it, but after awhile I was able to trace it back to the Centre.

Parker sat up straight, Broots, who signed for it?

I'm afraid that information's been covered in a paper trail so thick it'd take Paul Bunyan to find it.

Can you try?

I already did. I can work on it some more, but I don't hold out much hope. Whoever did it, made sure that even if the account was discovered, the source wouldn't be.

Damn. Okay. Good work, Broots.

Thanksl...and by the way, I checked the phone records, and that Nielsen call Mrs. Maisel received came from a Centre cell phone.

Big shock there. Not. Broots...one more favour?



I'd like to find our doppelgänger Mrs. Maisel. See what you can dig up on that for me, okay?

I'll do my best.



Parker hung up the phone and looked once again at the man staring into the fire. She stood up and went to the couch, taking a seat next to him. He seemed unaware of her presence until she spoke.

Penny for your thoughts, Syd....



You seem lost in thought....anything you want to talk about?

He shook his head, but she could sense that he was upset.

Tentatively she reached a hand over and stroked the back of his head, You're safe with me, you know that.

His lips were pressed tightly together, then he finally opened them, Dachau. I was thinking about Dachau.

She closed her eyes and swallowed, then looked at him once more, What made you think of that?

I don't know. The fire I suppose. It reminds me of the stories Jacob and I were told the day we were taken. The Nazis delighted in telling us of giant incinerators eating entire rooms full of people. To a couple of young boys, well, you can imagine...

He shivered slightly at the memory and Parker took his hand, It's okay, you're safe now.

I.....I'm sorry. I haven't thought of that day in years.

You've never told me about it, Sydney. He shook his head, and she squeezed his hand, It might make you feel better Syd, if you talk about it.

My father had heard the rumours that they were coming to Lyons, but he didn't worry too much at first, because my family was Catholic, and the Nazis seemed interested mostly in Jews. But then a priest from our parish told my father that they were also experimenting on non-Jews, and that with twin sons, my father should take us and leave Lyons.

The memory was difficult for him, and he looked down, swallowing hard; Parker felt a pang of sympathy, and once again squeezed the hand held in hers.

His voice was like a soft caress when he continued, The priest offered to help get us out of France, and my father agreed. We packed up a few things that very night, and in the dark, the priest snuck us through the back gate of the church grounds, and hid us in the back room of the sacristy. He said we would be safe there, and that the following night, he would get us on a train heading for Switzerland.

How did they find you?

Sydney shook his head, I....I don't remember exactly. It all happened so fast, and it was so cold, and so dark.....I don't really know. What I do recall was the moment when one of them grabbed my mother. She screamed. I had never heard her scream like that, and it terrified me. His eyes welled up with tears, and he fought to keep them at bay, That was the last time I saw my mother. We were taken to a train station later, and my brother and I were placed on one train, and my parents on another. My sister didn't even make it that far.

Parker's eyes widened in surprise, Your sister?

Yes, Catherine......you know I hardly ever speak of her. To this day I can't stand to hear the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria because it was her favourite song to sing. She had such a beautiful voice.....

Why don't you ever talk about her, Syd?

The tears began to spill down his face, I barely remember her, and I'm ashamed. My brother and I were allowed to live, but she was condemned to death.

He turned his face away from Parker, disgraced by his own tears.

She pulled his chin back toward her and looked into his eyes, You have nothing to be ashamed of, Sydney; it wasn't your fault. You lived, and she didn't; you didn't kill her.

It isn't fair. I should have been able to do something, his sobs were building upon each other as his emotions came out in a jumble, I should have been able to save her; to save all of them. I should have stopped him. It was my fault....

Parker stared at him, Stopped who, Sydney? One of the soldiers?

The man who betrayed us to them...

Sensing that she had stumbled onto something important to his recovery, she grabbed his face hard, between her two hands, Sydney, what man? Tell me about him.

He sobbed, I can't remember what he looked like....

She couldn't push him any further, and she knew it. Parker pulled his upper body into her lap, and let him lean on her as the sobs continued to pour out of him.

She gently caressed the back of his head as he cried, Oh Sydney, I wish I knew how to help you.

Perceiving that it was calming him, Parker slowly kept running her fingers through his hair, until exhausted, he fell into a troubled sleep. Gently she lowered his head to the couch, stood up and lifted his legs onto it as well. She covered him with a throw blanket and carefully placed a pillow under his head. Feeling the effects of a long day, she curled up on the window seat, and within minutes was sound asleep herself.

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

The Centre
Broots' Area


It was early, and he wanted to finish the search he was performing before anyone else was around. It was easier, not to mention a helluva lot safer. Broots had wandered down every possible avenue of paper he could find, trying to trace the fake Mrs. Maisel; but it was as if the woman had never existed. He had been following this one particular lead for over an hour, it would take him to one dead end, and then, he'd pick up a new trail, and it would start all over again.

Broots was cross eyed with exhaustion, and it had almost slipped right past him. Thank god, something had caught his eye, and he flipped back to the document. It was a Centre death certificate for Eric Maisel. He checked the dates, and it seemed correct, although there was no listing of next of kin. It appeared perfectly in order, until he looked at the name of the doctor of record.

He wasted no time picking up his phone.



Miss Parker, it's me...I've got something.

You found her?

No, but I found Eric Maisel's death certificate.

She couldn't keep the impatience out of her voice, So what? Dead is dead, Broots. We already know that the boy is dead.

No, you don't understand.....Miss Parker, the death certificate was signed by Dr. William Raines. The silence on the other end of the line lasted so long, Broots thought there had been a disconnection, Miss Parker?

I'm here. You don't suppose....?

Anything's possible.

As soon as Fr. Tom gets here, and I know that Syd's taken care of, I'll be in.

Before he could say good bye, the dial tone rang in his ear.

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

Miss Parker's House

He sat at the kitchen table, absently sipping from his coffee mug. He hadn't said one word to her since the night before, and it was beginning to worry her. She walked into the kitchen, and over to where he was sitting, both her hands coming to her hips in annoyance.

We need to talk about this toothpaste thing, Freud.... how many times do I have to remind you to squeeze from the bottom, not just anywhere you feel like it....

He looked at her momentarily, but she wasn't sure if anything had registered. Then he returned his attention to the colour of the far wall. Parker's hands slid off her hips; she had hoped that the mock irritation would garner some kind of reaction. She looked down and sighed, fighting off the feelings of frustration and desperation which were threatening to overtake her.

He took her hand, Don't look so sad, Catherine.

Her big eyes filled with moisture, I just miss you, Syd.

Miss me? But I'm right here.

She smiled sadly, Remember how you felt yesterday when you said that you had missed me?

His brows knitted together,

It's sort of like that. I miss the Sydney I know.

He let her hand slip out of his, and brought his arms back to lean on the table,

Parker hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, but her own frustration was beginning to wear thin. After a calming breath, she stepped behind his chair and gently began massaging his shoulders. He grimaced slightly as she pressed too hard on a taut muscle, and she eased her touch.

I'm sorry.....I should have realized you'd be a little sore.

Your hands are very strong.

I used to do this for my father. Right after my mother died, he didn't talk much, and it was one of the few ways that I could feel close to him.

Were you young when your mother died, Catherine?

Yes, very.

A tiny edge of disorder slipped into his timbre, I never knew that....

Parker could feel his muscles tensing under her hands, Hey, Freud, you're tensing up; this is supposed to relax you. What's the matter?

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

She stopped rubbing his back and sat down in the chair next to him, laying a concerned hand on his forearm, Just tell me what you're thinking.

When you said that your mother died and you were very young.....

Yes? What about that?

I know you've never told me that before, and yet, it sounded familiar.

She tried to keep the urgency out of her tone, Yes...and what about that, Syd?

She could see that the train of thought was breaking down, and before he could answer, the doorbell rang. Her head dropped momentarily in defeat.

I'm sorry, I keep trying to remember things, but...

Parker placed two fingers over his lips, shushing him, It's not your fault. I'm just frustrated, that's all. It isn't you, Sydney.

She stood up and went to the front door, opening it.

Good morning, Miss Parker, Fr. Tom's smile dissipated slightly, Are you all right? You look a little....upset.

Yes, I'm fine. Sydney's in the kitchen.

She seemed distracted, and the priest decided to leave her to her thoughts, as he walked toward the doorway.

Father.....I want to relay to you what Sydney told me last night, before you speak with him today. There might be something to it.

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

The Centre
Broots' Area


Parker perused the copy of the death certificate, and as plain as the bald pate atop Nosferatu's head, was his signature above Physician of Record'.

She handed the paper back to Broots, shaking her head, This is worse than I thought...

Broots frowned at her, What do you mean? The kid might be alive, Miss Parker, that's great news, isn't it?

She placed a hand on Broots' shoulder, but, where is this going? Jack Carnes switched the chemicals in the lab, we saw that; he was paid off, and now he's dead. A woman, who we know is not Eric's mother, shows up at the Centre claiming to be her, laying a guilt trip on Sydney with all the delicacy of a two ton elephant. We can't find this woman anywhere, but five will get you ten, she's on somebody's payroll, and it's probably the same somebody who paid off Carnes. In the meantime, my father is trying to rush Sydney into the Centre's rubber room, citing that it's the only way Mrs. Maisel' can be kept quiet. And now Nosferatu's signature shows up on the kid's death certificate, which makes no sense, since the attending was Dr. Boito.

Sure seems like it would take more than one person to accomplish all of it.

Yeah, but who is ultimately behind it and why? Raines' part in this is easy; he's wanted to get rid of Sydney for as long as I can remember, but.....

But you don't think he's it, huh?

No. While I can see him hiring a fake Mrs. Maisel, paying off both she and Carnes, and even signing a fake death certificate, I can't see him risking his own neck like this just to get rid of Sydney. Raines is too exposed, it's too obvious. No, he's lent a hand in all of this, but he isn't behind it.

Broots swallowed hard, Uh...you don't think it's uh, Mr. Parker, do you?

She glared at him, but her voice was vulnerable, I don't think so. What reason could he possibly have for going to this much trouble?

Good point. He could just fire him.

You know what really doesn't make sense?



If it's the Triumvirate, and they want rid of him this badly, why not just kill him?

Don't say things like that.

Oh grow up, Scooby Doo, it's the truth. It just isn't adding up. Why cause just a nervous breakdown if he's some kind of threat or security risk? Why not see to it he has an accident, or something?

What about Eric? Do you think there's a chance he's still alive?

Not only a chance, Broots, I'd snap my last garter on the fact that he's being kept on the premises somewhere. She headed for the door, motioning to Broots, Come on, let's see if we can find him.



Let's start down on--

--No, no, don't say it, I know, SL-27. Broots made a face as he pulled himself out of his chair, I hate it when this happens.

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

Miss Parker's House

Fr. Tom watched as Sydney fidgeted with everything within an arm's reach.

Sydney.....Miss Parker told me about your discussion last night.

The psychiatrist looked up sharply, She had no right to.

She just wants to help you. Like I do. A grunt of disbelief issued from Sydney's lips and the priest continued, She said that you recalled that there was a man. A man you felt betrayed your family to the Nazis. Tell me about him, Sydney.

I don't remember.

Let's take it step by step. You were hiding in a room in the sacristy, then what happened? Sydney looked away, refusing to answer, Tom prodded him, Did you hear something?

Footsteps. Heavy footsteps outside, running.

Where are you?

I'm in a room with my family. My mother is holding my brother, and my older sister is holding me.

Where's your father?

Sydney's eyes glossed over as his mind entered the realm of the past, He's.....he's standing by the door, holding a candlestick. He says he won't let them get us, not without a fight. We hear voices, yelling, and then doors slamming. There is more running outside the windows. My brother Jacob begins crying, because he's so scared.

And what about you, are you scared?



No? Why not?

Because I know He'll save us.







Yes. He won't let anything happen to my family. And the priest... he promised to protect us, to get us out safely. I'm not frightened, because I know nothing can happen. I try to tell my sister not to be afraid, but she won't listen to me. She begins to cry, and I pull her into my arms, to hold her. Sydney swallowed, choking back tears, The noises are getting closer, but now there's no more running, or yelling. I hear footsteps approaching on the marble floor. The door opens.....

What happens then, Sydney?

The door opens.....and my father puts the candlestick down. He's relieved. But then the Nazis storm in, soldiers carrying guns. There are too many of them to fight. One of them grabs my brother from my mother's arms, and she screams--

The tears spilled from Sydney's eyes, and he buried his face into his hands.

Fr. Tom placed a comforting hand on Sydney's head, I know this is difficult, Sydney, but try....

His voice was filled with fear, I've never heard my mother scream, and it terrifies me. A soldier has my mother and my father at gunpoint. Another soldier is holding Jacob.

What about you and your sister?

I'm standing in front of her, shouting at the soldiers that I won't let them touch her. One of the Nazis comes over to me, pointing his gun at my head, but I won't move. Another man tells the soldier that he can't hurt me, because they want my brother and I. The man grabs me and throws me back out of the way, and then-- A cry filled with anguish wrenched from Sydney's throat, as the memory flooded his mind, They just shot her. Right there, in the sacristy of the church. She falls back and I catch her. There's blood everywhere, it's on my clothes, my face...and my hands.

Tom reached over and gently began to rub Sydney's neck, trying to calm him, Okay, take it easy. Sydney, take a deep breath for me, all right?

The psychiatrist gasped a little for air, She died right in front of me, and I could do nothing. Just like....just like.....

Just like who, Sydney?

Sydney didn't answer. After a few minutes, his breathing slowly returned to normal.

Fr. Tom stopped rubbing his neck and looked into Sydney's eyes, How're you doing?

Better......I'm sorry.

No worries. It wasn't your fault, Sydney. You couldn't have stopped them.

I should have tried.

No...I think there are too many people in the here and now who would have missed knowing you. He smiled at Sydney, and then commented, There's one thing you haven't told me.... Sydney's eyebrows raised in question and Tom continued, You told Miss Parker that there was a man, but you didn't mention him right now; however, you said the door opened, and your father put down the candlestick, and that he looked relieved. Why would he look relieved if he saw soldiers?

Sydney frowned, I....I can't remember.

Sydney, concentrate.....the door opens, and what happens next?

Sydney closed his eyes, The door opens....the door--It's Father Samuelle! He's come to get us out! Fear filled Sydney's face, No...he's letting the Nazis in. He's letting them in to take us away!

Sydney's big brown eyes popped open and stared intently into Fr. Tom's, Why? Why would he do this? He was our priest, a friend; one of god's chosen....why would he betray my family? He killed my sister, and my parents; and sent my brother and me to a camp, where we were glorified lab rats, living in appalling conditions. Where was god then?

Tom exhaled a large mouthful of air slowly, I don't have an answer for that, Sydney, but, I can tell you, that God is here, now, and I'll help you find Him, and yourself again.

Sydney frowned, his voice softer than a whisper, I don't know if I want to find him any more than--

Any more than what, Syd?

Any more than I want to find myself.

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

The Centre

Parker shivered involuntarily as the elevator ascended.

Broots' voice reflected slight concern, Are you okay, Miss Parker?

Yeah, elevator's just giving me the creeps today, that's all.

Broots nodded and changed the subject, I didn't think it would take us this long to search three floors. They're bigger than they look.

Just like the conspiracies in this place.

The elevator doors opened, and Mr. Parker was standing there with a smile, Angel, I was looking for you.



Yes, may I have a word?

Of course. She turned to Broots, I'll meet you back in your office.



Mr. Parker watched the computer tech leave, and then he took Miss Parker by the elbow and quickly moved her through the main foyer, and down the hallway toward his office. They said nothing until they were inside it, and the doors were closed.

Where have you been all morning and early afternoon, Angel?



His voice took on a stony quality,

With all the excitement around here, Broots and I had fallen behind in the search for Jarod, so--

--So you thought you'd head down to SL-27 and look for him?

Parker stared at him, then tried to recover, Well, actually, we thought that--

Mr. Parker grabbed her hard by the arms, Don't lie to me. I know what you're up to...

Daddy...you're hurting me...

After a minor staring contest, Parker let go of his daughter, but continued to hold her eyes with his, You stay out of this, do you hear me?

She frowned at him, Stay out of what, Daddy?

This whole mess with Sydney and the boy. Stand clear of it.

We've already had this argument, and I meant what I said; I won't stay out of it. What are you afraid I'll find?

Nothing. That isn't the point.

Then what is? I already know about the impostor who was here yelling at Sydney, pretending to be Mrs. Maisel; I know that Jack Carnes was paid off by the Centre to set him up; and I know that Eric Maisel was stolen from his real parents, and that Dr. Raines signed his death certificate, so chances are he's around here somewhere. What I don't know is why. Care to enlighten me? For one of the first times in her life, she saw fear in her father's eyes, and it scared her.

It took him a long moment before he could find his voice, You need to forget everything you just said to me. Do you understand? She started to balk, and he grabbed her again, even harder, Do you understand? She nodded and he eased his grip, I can't protect you in this, if you don't stay out of it.

Daddy, please tell me what's going on.

I can't. You're just going to have to trust me.

Her eyes darted up to his; she'd heard it so many times before, and how many of those times had she been disappointed?

Not this time, Daddy.

She started out the door, but he grabbed her once more, It's too late, do you hear me?

What do you mean?

A sweeper team has already been sent to your house. They're bringing Sydney in.

He turned brusquely away from her, dismissing her.

You can't do that... Daddy, you promised me. She took ahold of his sleeve, You can't do this.

He looked at her, not a hint of emotion to be found, It's done.

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

Miss Parker's House

Tom jumped out of his chair as the front door burst open, and several men in suits toting guns, entered.

A tall man moved quickly to Tom, and placed a gun in his face, Don't do anything rash, and you'll be fine.

Tom's blood froze and his muscles clinched up, he had never felt a fear of this magnitude. He glanced over at the couch, and noticed that Sydney hadn't even flinched. It was almost as if the man had expected it; or perhaps nothing could phase him in his current state, Tom wasn't sure.

Tom's voice quivered slightly, I've got thirty bucks in my pocket, just take it.

The sweeper holding the gun simply glared at Tom, but said nothing.

Another man in a suit moved over to Sydney, Get up, doctor.

A voice from the doorway yelled, Willie, what the hell are you doing?

Stay out of it, Sam, I have my orders.

I don't give a good goddamn about your orders, Willie, I have mine. And mine say that Sydney doesn't leave this house.

Willie moved to stand nose to nose with Sam, I was sent here by the Triumvirate. You wanna tell them I can't take him?

Sam swallowed hard, Does Miss Parker know about this?

Doesn't matter, her father does. Now stay out of it.

Tom piped up, Hey, who the hell are you people?

Willie nodded to the man holding the gun to Tom's head, and the sweeper hit him, hard. Tom quickly crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Sydney started off the couch, to check on the priest, but Willie grabbed ahold of him, and roughly yanked him toward the door.

Sam put a hand over Willie's arm, There's no need to treat him like that.....it's not like he's going to fight you.

Willie glared for a moment, then let go of Sydney's arm. Sam gently took ahold of the psychiatrist and led him toward the door, Come on, Sydney, walk with me.

But what about Fr. Tom?

Don't worry about him, he'll be fine.

Where are we going?

Sam looked at him sadly, I'm taking you to the Centre.

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

The Centre

Miss Parker was coming from Broots' office, after asking him to go to her house and check on Fr. Rausch, when she saw the sweeper team with Sydney, moving down the hallway. She wondered who had ordered his retrieval to be executed in such a public manner, forcing Sydney to march through the main hallways. Sam was walking next to Sydney, holding him by the arm; and judging from Sam's demeanor, it was protective, not hostile. Parker quickly moved to the group, and stopped right in front of them.

Sydney brightened when he saw her, Catherine, thank god...

Parker smiled gently at Sydney, You okay? He nodded, and she glared at Willie, What do you think you're doing? Without waiting for an answer she turned to Sam, And you were supposed to prevent this...

Sam looked down, There was no choice, Miss Parker....

Willie smiled at her, This came directly from the Triumvirate and your father's office, Miss Parker. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with them.

Willie nodded and the group started moving again, but Parker shoved her hands against Willie's chest and they stopped. The tall sweeper glared into her eyes, silently daring her to move against him.

Parker smiled dangerously, This isn't over, Willie. She then turned to Sydney and ran a tender hand down his cheek, Don't worry, Syd, everything will be fine. I'll see to it. She then grabbed Sam by the tie, getting into his face, You stay with him, you don't let him out of your sight. Anything happens to him, and you're dead, you get me?

Sam nodded, and Miss Parker stepped out of the way. It was then that Sydney became agitated, and started to struggle against his captors.

No...Catherine, please, don't let them take me....

The sweepers fought him down, hitting him hard in the abdomen. Two of them held Miss Parker back when she tried to intervene. Sydney's pleas for her to help him, tore at her heart, and she closed her eyes, as they dragged him out of view. She shoved the sweepers away from her, and headed toward her father's office, reaching for her cell phone as she rounded a corner.

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

Miss Parker's House

Broots entered the house without knocking, Fr. Tom? Father? Are you--

The computer tech found the man just hanging up the phone, a large cut dripping blood from his forehead.

That was Miss Parker on the phone. She told me that she needs you back at the Centre asap, and that you need to turn your cell phone on.

A slight look of bumbling consternation filled Broots' face as he reached into his pocket and turned his phone on, Damn... Are you all right?

Yeah, I'll be fine.

Broots looked at the damage to the front door, What the hell happened?

Bunch of guys broke in and took Sydney. Parker told me not to call the cops, that she's on it.

Broots walked toward the door, Yeah, we'll take it from here, but thanks for everything. Are you sure you're okay?

Fine.....listen, Broots...what the hell kind of place do you people work for anyway?

You really don't want to know, father.

Tom shook his head as he watched Broots quickly move to his car, get in and drive off. He offered up a silent prayer for god to protect these people with whom he had become involved, and yet hardly knew. Somehow he had the feeling they were going to need it.

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

The Centre
Mr Parker's Office


Parker stormed into her father's office, only to find it empty. A paper lying on the floor by his desk caught her eye. After checking the door, to be sure no one was near, she quickly moved to his desk, and picked up the note, which read:

Transfer of cargo will be completed by 9pm tonight.
SL19/34 to Sandor School. All trails blocked.

Parker folded up the note and slipped it into her pocket. She quickly left the office, and headed for the Renewal Wing.

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

Renewal Wing

Miss Parker walked briskly down the corridor, and found Sam standing outside a cell, nursing a bloody nose.

What the hell are you doing? I told you not to leave him.

I'm sorry, Miss Parker, I wasn't really given a choice. This is as close as I can get.

Parker glared at him, but pulled the handkerchief from his jacket pocket and gently pressed it to his nose, He still in there?

Yes ma'am.

Has anyone else been down here?

Mr. Raines, a little while ago.

Parker's features quickly filled with worry, How long was he in there?

About fifteen minutes. And Miss Parker, he had equipment with him.

What did it look like?

Like the kind of stuff used in electroshock therapy.

Oh god, She dabbed carefully around his nose and her voice grew softer, Okay, you stay out here.

Yes ma'am.

Parker gave him the bloodied handkerchief, and strode to the door, only to be blocked by two very large sweepers she didn't know.

She smiled at them, I'd advise you two to stand down.

The larger of the two men countered, Can't do that, ma'am. No one goes in or out.

I've never seen either of you before. Who do you report to?

The same one continued, We report directly to Mugambi, Miss Parker.

She arched an eyebrow at him, You know who I am. Good. Then you know I'm not kidding when I tell you that if you don't let me into that room, she whipped out her 9mm and pointed it at the man's crotch, you're going to be joining the ranks of the castrati.

The sweeper looked down at the gun pointing at his crotch, and then he glanced nervously to the other sweeper, Uh, maybe we could make an exception in your case, Miss Parker.

The second sweeper shrugged, It's your call.

The large sweeper moved aside, and Parker put her gun away and reached for the door handle, Good thinking.

She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. The room was extremely dark, and Parker reached for the lights. She turned them on and to her horror, found Sydney in a ball in the corner of the room, his hands protectively covering his head. Parker fought down her own terror, and took a calming breath. She walked slowly over to Sydney and knelt next to him. Instinctively he cowered away from her as she gently reached to bring his arms down.

It's okay, Syd, it's me. It's okay.

No, please leave me alone. No more. Please....

Shhh, Sydney, it's okay. It's me, it's just me.

She finally got him to look at her, and relief filled his eyes, Catherine, thank god.....

Parker pulled him into her arms and held him tightly, until she felt him relax. Gently, she pushed him away from her, so that she could see his face.

You okay, Syd?

Raines.....it was Raines....but he had no hair.

Yeah, Nosferatu's gone bald in his old age. What did he say to you, Sydney?

He told me if I didn't cooperate, I'd end up with a frontal lobotomy. Then he told me he'd give me a little taste of what was to come...

And he hit you with electro-shock.

Yes. Please don't let them do this to me. Please....

It's going to be okay, but I need your help, Syd.

What can I do?

I need you to remember.



I need you to remember who you are, Sydney. Who you are now. He looked at her, confused, she placed her hands on either side of his face, It's 2001, not 1968. I am Catherine Parker's daughter; you work with me every day, Syd, searching for Jarod, because he left the Centre almost six years ago.

I don't remember.

Fr. Tom told me briefly about what you discovered today. Is that what happened Syd? When you saw Eric on the floor dying, did that helplessness remind you of how you felt when your sister died? Hmm?

Sydney pushed away from her, slamming his eyes shut; he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to feel the pain that filled his heart.

Parker stayed with him, pulling his face back toward hers, Is that it, Sydney? You feel guilty because you lived and your sister didn't? Because you survived a car crash and Jacob was in a coma for thirty years? You feel guilty because you're here and you think Eric Maisel isn't?

Leave me alone.....

I will not, Sydney. You've got to face this pain, or it's going to destroy you. You lost your faith because a corrupt priest cost you your family, and you somehow took the guilt upon yourself. And now you're on the brink of losing your mind because you feel responsible for a child's death.



He tried to shove her away, but she grabbed his arms, hard, Listen to me....you're not responsible for all of the bad things that have happened. Sometimes terrible things happen, and we all just have to keep going. Even you. Especially you. You have so much more to give, Sydney, please, don't leave me now.

His eyes were full of such anguish, Parker felt her own sting with tears.

His voice was like a cry, I can't. I can't remember....

Defeated, Parker let him go, and he curled up in a ball of pain on the floor, crying to himself. She ran a soft hand down his back as she stood up, exhaling a large sigh of air.

I think he's alive, Syd. I think Eric's alive, and I think he's here, and I'm going to find him. I may not be able to bring you back, but at least I can save him.

Parker turned and walked out the door. After he heard the echo of her heels disappear, he looked up toward the door, his eyes filling with uncertainty.

He barely whispered,

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

SL-19

Broots nervously followed Miss Parker down the corridor, God this place gives me the creeps, big time.

Parker stopped walking, and Broots plowed right into her back, Hey, Shaggy, watch where you're going.

Miss Parker looked at the numbers on the doors as they walked by, 39, 38, 37, 36, 35.....

She stopped in front of number 34, Here it is.

They peered into the small glass in the door, but it had been covered over obstructing the view. Parker put her hand on the door knob, and Broots put his on top of hers.

What if it's a trap? I mean, you did just find this on a scrap of paper lying in your father's office, and--

--We do not have time to stand here and argue the finer points, Broots. I'm going in, you can stay out here or come with me, but you're not going to keep me from it.

He removed his hand, and Parker turned the knob; the door was locked.



Guess we'll have to come back later. Parker pulled her gun out and Broots held up his hands, I was only kidding....

She pointed it at the lock and squeezed the trigger twice, blowing the lock right out of the door. She kicked the door in and disappeared inside.

Broots cautiously followed her, So much for a covert action...

The little boy stared at Parker, and she moved quickly to him, Eric? My name is Miss Parker, and I'm going to help you get back to your mom and dad.

Where's Sydney? Where is he?

Sydney ...hasn't been feeling well, Eric. Don't you want to go see your mom and dad?

The child's brows knitted together, I.....I don't know what you're talking about.

Parker knelt in front of the boy, Sure you do Eric. You remember your mom and your dad. Your big house on the cape. The treehouse in the backyard....

The boy ran away from her toward the back of the room, No, I don't know what you're talking about!

Parker went to him again, Eric, it's okay....

My mom and dad are dead.

Who told you that, Eric?

Mr. Raines.

Hmmm, well you know, he's just a cranky old company tool who gets things wrong a lot. Your mom and dad are fine, and they're really worried about you..

Broots smiled at the child, Your folks are really nice, Eric, we talked to them just yesterday. They really want you to come home.

Eric took a step toward Parker, who held her hand out to him. After another moment of thinking on it, the boy took her hand in his, and they started moving toward the door.

Eric, do you remember anything that happened to you?

Not really. I was playing in my treehouse, and the next thing I knew, I was here, and Mr. Raines told me that my parents were dead.

What else did he tell you?

That I wasn't to ever talk about my parents with anyone.

Not even Sydney?

Especially not Sydney. He said that it would make Sydney really sad if I mentioned it.



They rounded the corner toward the elevator, and as the doors opened, Sam came rushing out.

Miss Parker, I'm glad I found you.

What the hell is the matter?

It's Sydney. They've taken him to the Tower.

Broots muttered, When it Raines, it pours.

Parker glared at the tech, but turned back to Sam, How did you know I was down here?

Your...father told me.

Unbelievable. It was a set up. She handed Eric off to Broots, Use the tunnel exit from SL-27, and get him out of here. Go, go...

Broots took the child and made a hasty exit toward the stairwell and SL-27.

Parker looked at Sam, I hope you have a lot of ammo....

Reluctantly Sam followed Parker to the elevator; whatever she had in mind, it wasn't going to pretty.

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

The Tower

Sydney stood under the scrutiny of the tribunal known only as the Triumvirate. The room reminded him of a gigantic chess table, with its checkered floor, and the sweepers stationed around the room against the walls looking like pawns ready to spring into battle. Glancing about the room, he counted seventeen members, including Parker and Raines; although he couldn't understand why either of them looked so old. On Parker's right sat Mugambi, Qalhata and Jordan. Raines sat on Mr. Parker's left, looking about as smug as Sydney could ever remember seeing the man.

It was Mugambi who spoke first, Do you know why you're here, doctor?

I presume it's because one or more of you thinks me incompetent.

Mmmm, yes, that's right. Not only incompetent, doctor, but also negligent.

Negligent? How have I been negligent with Jarod?

Qalhata answered, This isn't about Jarod, doctor. This is in regard to the incident with Eric Maisel.

Sydney frowned at her, I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're referring to...

Looks passed between members of the Triumvirate, and Sydney could see that it wasn't boding well for him.

A man in a wheelchair with a white hat spoke up, Doctor, can you tell us what happened last Tuesday?

Last Tuesday....hmmm... Sydney shrugged, I came to work I suppose, like I would any other day.

The man in the hat continued, And you don't remember anything else about that day?

No. Should I?

Qalhata responded again, Yes, doctor, you should. A little boy in your care died that day because of a sim you designed. And while we know that the parameters of the sim were tampered with by Jack Carnes, ultimately it was your responsibility, and you must answer for it.

I'm afraid that I cannot comment upon that which I do not remember.

Losing patience Raines turned toward Mugambi, I told you he's suffered a nervous breakdown, let's just get on with this.

Mugambi shot a warning look at Raines, I will thank you to remain silent through these proceedings, Mr. Raines. When you are required to speak, we will let you know. Raines scowled but said nothing more. Mugambi turned to Sydney, Doctor, do you know what year this is?

Sydney smiled at him, Of course, it's.... His smile dissolved into confusion, he couldn't remember the year,

Parker glanced at Mugambi, and the latter nodded, so Parker spoke up, It's all right, Sydney, never mind. I think we have the picture.

Mr. Parker stood up and walked over to Sydney, preparing to escort him out of the chamber, when the door to the room burst open. Sydney looked on in horror as the sweepers around the room pulled their guns, pointing them toward the two figures entering the room. He could hear screams in the background, but they sounded muffled to him. He watched in terror, as Sam rolled in to his right, and Miss Parker darted in to the left, aiming her gun at Mugambi. Out of the corner of his eye, Sydney saw a sweeper level his gun at Miss Parker, his finger starting to pull on the trigger.

Images flashed like lightening in front of Sydney's eyes, as the action in the room seemed to slow down. He saw Miss Parker as a child with Jarod, then at her mother's funeral; and Sydney knew at that moment that Catherine was dead. Pictures of the past six years moved through his mind of the work that they had done together, and all the times they had leaned on each other. In a millisecond, Sydney knew where and who he was, and that he couldn't let anything happen to the little girl who had grown into the woman he thought of as his own.

His voice screamed above the panic in the room, NO! Miss Parker!

As Mr. Parker dove for cover under a nearby chair, Sydney dove for Miss Parker, knocking her down to the ground as the sweeper fired. Sydney felt a bullet whiz past him, grazing his cheek. They landed in a heap on the floor, and as they scrambled for their feet, the sweepers surrounded them. Miss Parker was by no means ready to surrender, but Sydney grabbed her arm, shoving her behind him. He stood protectively in front of her, staring down the barrels of four guns. Everything in the room stopped. And for several heartbeats, there was not a movement, nor a sound.

Mugambi stepped forward in the silence, Miss Parker, what is the meaning of this?'

She tried to move around Sydney, but he kept a tight hold on her, acting as a shield between Miss Parker and the sweepers.

Parker looked at him, hoping that it was the man she knew,

Are you all right, Miss Parker?

The relief in her tone was apparent, I am now.

Mugambi interrupted, Miss Parker?

She glared at Mugambi, I came here to stop you from making a huge mistake.

Oh? And what mistake would that be?

There could be consequences to the decision you're about to make. Possibilities to which you have not been made privy.

Once again she tried to move past Sydney, but he still didn't let go.

The psychiatrist looked at Mugambi, Call off your dogs.

Very well...stand down, gentlemen.

The sweepers holstered their guns and moved back. Everyone else in the room slowly got off the floor and sat back down, Mr. Parker one of the last to recover. Finally, Sydney let go of Miss Parker's arm, and she stepped out from behind him, walking slowly toward Mugambi.

There's a little bit more to this than meets the eye. You see, not only was Eric Maisel stolen from his parents, and presented to Sydney under false pretenses, he's not dead. Murmurs of comments shimmered through the room, and when they died down, she continued, Furthermore, Jack Carnes and the woman who pretended to be Eric Maisel's mother were both paid off via Centre bank accounts, although the origin of those accounts has not been resolved.

Get to the point, Miss Parker.

The point, Mugambi, is quite simple; someone, or several someones planned to push Sydney over the edge with all of this, and violated oh, half a dozen federal laws in the process.

Why would someone go to such a length, just to get to a Centre shrink?

Miss Parker looked down, I'm afraid we haven't been able to uncover the motive, nor the people involved. She looked pointedly at Raines and Mr. Parker, Although I suspicion that some of them are in this room.

Qalhata spoke up, I assume that you have proof for all of this?

Oh yeah.....and if the status quo around here doesn't resume, that proof will wind up in some pretty uncomfortable places.

The man in the white hat smiled, Well, in light of all this, I think we might put this one to bed.

Mugambi cut off the voices of assent, We still have one minor problem.

The man in the white hat stared,

Yes, you see, no matter the reasons, there is still the question of the good doctor's sanity.

A smile curled Miss Parker's lips, What year is it, Syd?



And who am I?

Miss Parker, Catherine Parker's daughter.

And Jarod?

He escaped the Centre almost six years ago, and we've been chasing him ever since.

She looked at him, concern in her eyes,

A small smile lit his eyes, A very precocious seven year old with whom I have had the distinct pleasure of working. And I'm thrilled to hear that he is alive and well.

Although tears clouded Miss Parker's eyes, she looked triumphantly back at Mugambi, Is there anything else?

He hesitated, then finally said, No, I suppose that there is not. This meeting of the Triumvirate is adjourned.

The room began to empty fairly quickly, as the members of the most clandestine arm of the Centre faded back into the woodwork. Miss Parker walked over to Sydney, and brushed a lock of hair out of his face, while she inspected the wound on his cheek.

Does it hurt?

It's just a flesh wound, I'll be fine.

Mr. Parker interrupted, Angel, are you all right?

I'm fine, Daddy. No thanks to you.

Parker's eyes reflected the hurt, Well, I....What the hell did you think you were doing, anyway? You could have gotten yourself killed....

Mugambi placed a hand on Parker's shoulder, We need to have a word....

I'll be right there. Parker turned back to his daughter, running a gentle hand across her cheek, Have dinner with me tonight?

She smiled at him, Actually Daddy, she looked at Sydney, I have something else I have to do. She put an arm around Sydney's shoulder and guided him toward the door, Welcome back, Freud.

Sydney's soft laughter filtered through the room, and Mr. Parker's eyes filled with the moisture of hurt. The door to the room closed, and Parker realized that the only people left were Qalhata, Mugambi, Jordan, the man in the white hat, and himself. He turned to face them.

Mugambi stated, it would seem that genetics made their own case today, didn't they?

Parker looked away, She's a Parker, she can take care of herself.

Mugambi laughed, She can take care of herself at any rate.

Qalhata broke in, We are right back where we started. Sydney could still be a problem.

Parker was staring at the man in the white hat, and Mugambi offered an explanation, We felt it best to bring the colonel in on this...

I see.

The colonel looked confused, If Catherine Parker left her shares of stock to Sydney, how the hell is it that he still doesn't know? I mean, he hardly seems like the dullest bulb in the bin.

Parker's voice was harsh, It was in the language of the will. My late wife left her shares literally to my daughter's father.'

Jordan continued, Everyone of course assumed that the father of Miss Parker was Mr. Parker, so he took control of the shares, and has retained the controlling number of shares ever since.

The colonel's face looked dark under his hat, And Sydney has no idea that he might possibly have fathered Miss Parker?

He hasn't a clue. Mr. Parker sat down wearily in a chair, In the late fifties and early sixties, the Centre was at the bottom level of the groundbreaking research in artificial insemination. The truth is, we were years ahead of anyone else. We were also running experimental studies in the sleep patterns of twins. Sydney and his brother Jacob were used in one of the experiments requiring sedatives.

And while they were under, you just helped yourselves to their sperm?

Something like that, yes.

The colonel nodded, That explains the how, but why Sydney? Why not Jacob?

An ironic laugh escaped Parker's mouth, At the time, we thought Sydney would be easier to control.

Mugambi sat down in a chair, We've been paying for that poor judgment call ever since.

Qalhata voiced the fear in the room, God help us if either of them ever stumbles across the truth.

So deep in thought were they, that the sound of the squeaky wheels on the floor behind them, escaped everyone's notice.

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

St. Ignatious Church

They stood on the steps of the church, staring at the doors. Miss Parker held her hand out to him, and slowly he took it.

You ready, Freud?

I suppose.

One step at a time, Sydney. Come on....

Parker led him into the vestibule, and toward the fount of holy water. Just as she was about to dip her finger into it, Fr. Tom's voice caught her attention.

As I live and breath, look what blew into my church. The priest shook hands with Sydney, and hugged Miss Parker, You both look better than when I last saw you.

Miss Parker smiled at him, Father, thank you so much for all your help.

Sydney added, It's much appreciated, father, and I'm sorry about the bump you had to take on the head.

Don't worry about it. I'm glad everything worked out for the best. He touched Sydney's sleeve, Besides, Sydney, I think we owed you one.

Tears filled Sydney's eyes, and impulsively he pulled the priest into an embrace. After a moment, he pulled back and smiled deeply, Thank you, Fr. Rausch. Thank you for everything.

Is there anything else I can do for the two of you before I lock up for the evening?

Parker smiled at him, Let us have the church for a few minutes?

Tom smiled at her, For you, Miss Parker, anything.

Anyone ever tell you that for a man of the cloth, you're a big flirt?

It's in the dictionary under Jesuit. Oh, you'll have to share the sanctuary with our wedding soloist, she and the organist are in the loft running through their tunes for tomorrow's weddings.

Parker grinned, We can live with that, father, thanks again.

Fr. Tom walked out of the vestibule, locking the doors behind him. Parker turned and looked at Sydney, dipped her finger into the fount, made the sign of the cross and waited. After a momentary hesitation, he did the same, and together they walked into the church, and slipped quietly into the pew they had sat in only a few nights before.

Parker looked toward the altar, taking in the lit candles on the side altars, and the flowers on the main one.

It really is beautiful in here.

Sydney sounded unconvinced,

She glanced at him and noticed he was sweating, Syd? You okay?

He nodded, Just feeling a little....





She took his hand, I'm right here with you.

He squeezed her hand before letting it go, bending down and lowering the kneeler. The two of them knelt down, both extracting rosaries from their pockets.

I haven't said a rosary for my sister since I was a little boy.

That's why we're going to do it now. She looked over at him, You never told me her name.

He smiled, the French name gently tumbling off his tongue,

All the colour drained from Parker's face and she looked away.

Concerned, Sydney put an arm around her, Parker, are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost. Here, he gently lifted her back onto the pew, getting her off her knees, fearing that she might faint, sit here.

I'm.....I'm fine, Syd. Really.

The deep brown eyes looked into her grey ones, You wouldn't lie to me, would you Parker? After all, we are in a church...

Parker blinked away the tears in her eyes, and impetuously grabbed Syd by the neck, hugging him tightly.

Hey......what's this for?

After a moment he gently pushed her away, then placed a tender kiss on her forehead. She grabbed his hand, and once again they knelt before the altar, preparing to say the rosary. It was then that the first notes of Bach's organ accompaniment softly rolled like a cloud through the church. He recognized it almost immediately, and slammed his eyes shut against the painful memory which followed. He leaned his arms on the pew in front of him, and his head on his hands, tears flowing down his face, falling onto the pew.

Parker frowned,; it took her a moment to understand, but as soon as the singer's voice floated out above the gentle tones of the organ pipes, she recognized it as the Ave Maria, and knew why it had made him cry. She placed an arm around him, gently squeezing his neck with her hand.

Leaning her head into his, she spoke in the softest of whispers, Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Sydney's emotion filled voice joined Parker's, Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Parker held onto him, and he leaned his head into her for comfort. The tears of long held grief flowed out of him, as the music continued rising upon the fires of incense, burning in the hearts of the faithful.

fin

He who sings well, prays twice. - St. Augustine