CHAPTER THREE
Dec. 31, 2001
At six o'clock in the morning, MacLean smelling frying, leisurely went out to the kitchen, believing he was the only one awake, but Jarod was already there, with a teapot out, some raisin scones, the kettle boiling, a bowl of a mixture of yeast dough and raisins, the deep fryer already heating as well as the table set. MacLean wondered why the Pretender was so fast. MacLean guessed it was because he was of the New Species.
"There's some bacon in the 'fridge," he told the reporter as he got a frying pan from the cupboard, and four small bowls, "So what are you going to blab to Georges?"
"I heard you were different before."
"I was given a certain drug which we call Neogeneis. Correct name is Neogenesis Two. I had better explain to you about the Centre, they attract flies of a certain sort. Oh and don't touch the lap top. We're working on a case." He took some eggs from the refrigerator and scrambled them.
By this time, Miss Parker came in, yawning, with four little babies toddling behind her. MacLean was aghast. The children should not have been attempting to walk at their stage in life, but here they were falling, getting up, and holding onto their mother's skirt. When he was interviewing Georges, the Centre had just fallen and they would have been less than four months old. Here they were toddling around like one year olds.
She put the children in four high chairs, opened some fruit from a plastic container, and put it in the four bowls, besides the scrambled eggs and torn up scones. The children even acted as two year olds, and fortunately, Jarod had put a sheet under the high chairs.
"They are quite advanced," said MacLean.
"Dominants have a very short childhood," Miss Parker said. She smiled, talking to the children. "If you eat properly, you can all watch Blues."
In response, she got four responses that were appropriate for one year olds. "Yah wat." "Mr. Boo," "Funny Blue," and "Like Boo Bloo. Mummy like?"
The children stopped throwing their food on the floor and finished their breakfast, albeit being rather clumsy about it.
Meanwhile Miss Parker went over to Jarod, rumpled his hair, and fondled him. He did not protest, and MacLean gathered that it was more to show Jarod's lack of social standing rather than Miss Parker's affection. She did not kiss the Pretender nor permitted him to do so in return, but Jarod pressed his hand against her neck, pushing the side of her face into the side of his face while stroking her check with his other hand. A few moments later, she finished, washed her hands, and Jarod took the laptop, and plugged it in to the wall, working while eating his bacon, eggs, and scones after Miss Parker did the usual Roman Catholic thing of crossing herself and saying the customary grace. Whether it was out of habit or new-found devotion after her release from the curse, MacLean could not say. He rather suspected it was because they now had children.
"What are you working on?" asked the reporter.
"We have to go to California in the New Year," said Jarod as he got a washcloth to wipe the childrens's faces and after that, putting them down on the floor.
"I thought you came from there," said MacLean avoid getting bumped by a baby girl with golden curls who shied away when he tried to pick her up.
Miss Parker seeing the light flash over near the fryer, took several spoonfuls of the raisin dough, dropped them in the oil, and returned to the table, after checking to see if the oven was on warm. "No, that was Lambourni," she said as MacLean sniffed the fritters, a smile on his lips. "We're making a New Years Dutch recipe. Major Charles told us that his father was Dutch. It's my first attempt. The others are in the garbage."
"I heard about Mr. Parker going to California as well," said the reporter, "I was thinking of interviewing him, but I heard he died."
"Lambourni felt someone had to pay for his house burning down, his home in New Jersey. He got the Centre to build a house here but at that time, he did not know what happened to his old house until we told him. They killed Raines and Mr. Lyle, but since Mr. Parker never actually partook in the dirty stuff, he decided to hit him where it hurts, in his pocketbook, although I have no idea what that means," said Jarod.
"It means what it says Jarod," said Miss Parker as she put the dishes in the dishwasher and kept a close eye on the toddlers who were very intrigued with MacLean's camera, "the pocketbook is another name for wallet. They made him pay through the nose, and stopped sneering."
"Okay, but I was just imagining Judge Judy or Judge Joe Brown or whoever it is standing over Mr. Parker and watching thousand dollar bills coming out of his nose."
Miss Parker stood over the fryer, splitting her sides with laughter until she recovered and said to MacLean, "While Lambourni was there, since some in the government asked him to help in the case of over two hundred people dying or disappearing, but more so about the two percent that did not officially exist."
"Because of Walter Attwood, a few members of the government and the police force can distinguish a Dominant from a Sapien and because of that, they are allowed to take blood samples," said Jarod, "but they cannot use that information to convict them of any crime if no crime were committed. Now they have to put all these unknowns on file, back track to their place of birth, and manufacture citizenships or identities for them. That took a couple of hours."
MacLean's face expressed surprise. "Surely it would have taken at least six months to a year with all the regulations. I can understand the two percent, but what about the rest of the survivors. Surely the government would notice someone with a different name than most, being stronger and more resilient." He made a grab for his camera, leaving four little disappointed faces behind.
"Most could point to an ancestor in Europe someplace. The Hercules Project recruited those who had been in an area for sometime to get the typical physical, psychological, and speech patterns of that area and many of their forefathers had the common names used in that particular region. This assured that had they come to some harm, they could refer to a great uncle somewhere over there with records of their grandparents's or great grand parents's. However if any records of their existence or any legal documents were destroyed, they would be helpless. That is why The Centre destroyed the birth and marriage records of my grandparents and possibly those of the great grandparents and great-great grandparents of those here."
MacLean got the idea. The Centre had not only enslaved the Dominants, it made them criminals. He asked, "Were the children named after members of Miss Parker's family or yours?"
"Patricia's named after a great aunt, the others, she picked out of several baby name books."
By now the children were moving a chair over to the counter, and attempting to reach the knife block which their parents quickly shoved out of reach.
"It's different with us or me," said Jarod, "I don't know my last name, and since the Dominants take the rank of the father, my children were born like me, owned by my owner, that is Miss Parker. However, when they are free, they can take the first name or nickname of the mother and add a vowel or suffix to it." He picked up a copy of the Dominant book after giving his children some toys to play with and handed it to MacLean, and pointed out the appropriate chapters. "Shortly after their birth, she had them Raised."
"Raised? By whom?"
"It is the Dominant term for granting freedom or manumitting and usually the cost is depended on how valuable their father was and is done shortly after birth because once a child starts working, it can become quite costly, sometimes over ten thousand dollars depending on the occupation I was supposedly working at in the Centre. I never got paid and I'm sure she would have had to fork over a billion dollars for me and I'm worth at least that." He ignored Miss Parker's snicker.
"But don't you mind what she's making you do?"
Jarod took some bacon from the pan, after cleaning up the rest of the eggs from the fridge, mixed them together, and ate them. "You don't understand anything. Whether I like it or hate it doesn't matter. I have no choice and if you're planning to write an article in some trashy weekend paper, you better tell them that if I don't do what Miss Parker wants, she has the perfect right to kill me after the appropriate long and painful torture, of course."
MacLean felt he was the child scolded for not understanding. He was going to keep silent about what he learned before he left Georges's compound when he spotted the man's passport, a few travel magazines, plus a notice to the local bank on the Zulu's hand crafted table. The map under one of the magazines was an enlarged copy of Blue Cove, Delaware and an X right where Miss Parker's house would be. The time of arrival marked on the torn off paper from a Day-timer was the Centre airport just out of Blue Cove, 12: 15 am and the reporter recalled Georges's snicker when viewing that video. Jarod might have to do what Miss Parker wanted, but he certainly did not have to accept Georges' perverted desire to watch the goings on.
"I think Georges's is on his way here and I suspect he'd come when you're both in bed and…"
"We'll get Lambourni over, but he's going to THAT Church, and he has the whole family going as well or we could get the children to attack him," she said with an evil smile.
"We couldn't be that cruel, even to a man like Mr. Georges. Now what about Lewison?" asked Jarod. "We can have him over in a few minutes, pretend that we already invited him for New Years. He can kill him or if you want, I will." He had ferocity about him more akin to a predator than a normal human being.
"Bright idea, but I figure Georges would make sure you never get a chance. Lewison will take care of Georges permanently as well as destroy the rest of those tapes. Besides he's a teacher and no one would suspect him. Jarod, get Lewison on the cell phone and explain it all to him."
"Okay." He left his lap top and picked up the cell phone, dialing Lewison's and explaining in detail about what Georges would see them do. MacLean grew red in the face. Jarod concluded with, "and don't forget the wine. We've already made the desert which we'll have afterwards," then turned off the cell phone and handed it back to Miss Parker. "Mr. Georges won't bother us anymore."
"I guess not. Did you have to go into everything we did?"
"It's what we always do, oh except when trying for conception, but since the next children are already growing in your womb and the chance of miscarriage, taken the proper precautions are slim to none"
"Lewison will know when to strike before the hanky panky."
MacLean poured himself a cup of coffee and read an article that Miss Parker gave him on the effects of Neogenesis, and shivered. He now knew the drug had turned Jarod into someone who could not fight back even though he protested—a perfect victim. It was ironic. Jarod felt he was fighting against the Centre, escaping from them, but until the drugs were out his system, he was a puppet, drawn back whenever Sydney needed help, but he had changed since then, now being willing to kill where before he balked at the idea. He had changed from the prey to the hunter.
From looking at the travel times from the Internet, James knew that Georges would be on a commercial flight, using a different name. He would then rent or buy a private airplane, and make sure it landed on the airstrip owned by the Centre, and drive towards Blue Cove, arriving at about one am, in time to get to Miss Parker's and see the 'hanky panky' going on and since Jarod had no rights, Georges could demand to watch.
However, the Zulu had not counted on Lewison.
After breakfast, Jarod and Miss Parker turned on the television and the children watched Mr. Blue. He then continued with his investigation while Miss Parker greeted Lewison, printing a list of the places the deadbeat dad frequented, as well as the yacht club he belonged to, the tailor he frequented, and other essential information.
