Johnson's Third Law: If you miss one issue of any magazine, it will be the issue that contains the article, story or installment you were most anxious to read.

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Shirts. Pants. Suits. Shoes. Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Shampoo. Comb.

Lyle mentally counted off the items as he placed them meticulously into the suitcase laid out on his bed. The items being packed now would go with him to his new office in Maine, while the rest stayed here, waiting to be packed and shipped to him by Centre employees. Not altogether at peace with the idea of having unknown personnel packing up his apartment, he sighed uneasily at the thought of what they might uncover. Unfortunately, he only had time to pack up the essentials, and most of his belongings didn't fit into that category. Lyle looked around his apartment, odd collections of ornaments displayed on tables and walls gave voice to the many places he had already moved to because of the Triumvirate. Masks from Africa gazed down from their hangings on the wall and several sculpted artifacts from his escapades in Asia were arrayed on most of the flat surfaces in the residence.

The only place untouched by any of these decorations was a desk in the corner. This small space was dedicated to things of a different nature entirely; the face was littered with DSA's and files. Simulation folders were stacked neatly on one side, waiting to be sold to their respective clients. Inside the desk however, were collections of a different sort; various gifts that Lyle had accumulated over the years resided in these drawers- many of them were drawings. Most of these items he had received when Riley was much younger, before the place she had grown up in had taken over her completely. Lyle casually inserted a DSA into the player without looking in reference to the date and padded back over to his suitcase, listening to the sounds the recording emitted.

Socks. Jacket...

Lyle paused in his ministrations and turned with a look of horror dawning on his face towards the DSA player.

"... why don't you want to pretend?"

"B-Because I might mess it up, and I don't want you to leave!"

"Riley, you aren't going to make a mistake and- wait a minute, why would I leave?" Lyle noted the evident surprise in his voice and took another miserable look towards his half- packed suitcase.

"Sarah left." There was a pause in the noise before- "And it's my fault, I wasn't good enough."

"Weren't good enough?"

"Why else would she leave? She found something better than me! A better project or something! So she left! And I don't wanna make a mistake 'cause then you'll leave too!"

"Riley, I'll never leave."

"P-promise?"

"I promise." Lyle muttered dazedly, cutting off his younger self. He strode over to the player and hastily switched it off. Staring at the now white screen, though not quite actually seeing it, he slumped into a chair, his brows furrowed in thought. Memories were overtaking him, uninvited, and unwanted. Lyle found no particular joy in dealing with these, not now, it was far too late to develop a conscience this far into the game. He sat like that, blankly staring at the player, until the sounding of a slammed doorsomewhere else in the apartment complexstirred him. He sat up suddenly and, seemingly coming to a decision, headed out the door. As if by a second thought he rushed back into the apartment and grabbed up the suitcase before walking out a final time.

-

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The Triumvirate representative walked with a purposeful stride towards Raines' office. A dark scowl was plastered across her face as she walked past the man's secretary without any warning or introduction and sauntered, uninvited, into his office. The man she had come to see was stationed at his desk, looking over a red folder lying out in front of him. He looked up in slight surprise as she barged into the office so unexpectedly; however the slip in his expression disappeared in an instant to be replaced by the coolly professional façade which she had already become accustomed to seeing on his face.

"Miss Zurbin." He acknowledged her presence neutrally, and she noticed that he was already attempting to gain power in the discussion. The abrupt entrance into his office should have left him rattled, if only for a moment, and was designed to give her the advantage. She didn't allow him the chance to take any more of her influence from the situation and began speaking in a clipped tone which wouldn't allow him to interrupt her.

"The Triumvirate will not tolerate your excuses any longer Mr. Raines. The plane to Africa should have taken off hours ago and yet your pretender has not even been prepared for transport." By prepared she meant good and properly knocked out, but the Triumvirate had always preferred to go with subtlety and she had no intention of changing that. "The Triumvirate will not wait any longer." It also liked to speak of itself in the third person, who was she to break with tradition?

Mr. Raines stood up from his chair, once again taking more authority from her, as it is very difficult to berate a person who stands taller than yourself.

"Yes." He agreed with her, which already placed her off guard, she hadn't expected that. "But-" Of course there was a catch. "I would hate to have to call us all back to the Centre just as we had left." He stated in a most casual manner.

Miss Zurbin could have screamed in frustration, he was forcing her to play by his rules once again. She was in a position which would force her to ask why. She kept what dignity she had left and merely raised an eyebrow, a hand placed aggressively on her hip.

Raines took the hint to keep talking, and while he had hoped for her to rise to his carefully placed bait in a less haughty comportment, he didn't pull her strings further. "I had merely assumed that the Triumvirate would want to personally witness the recapture of our wayward pretender." He said, in reference to Jarod.

"That's a rather loaded statement Mr. Raines." She told him skeptically, though she couldn't help the feeling of hopeful curiosity rising in her chest. Finally, after four years, were they to actually see results?

"The subject has devised a way to recapture him... A way in which, instead of chasing him... he will come to us." Raines told her, and watched a slow smile begin to span across her face. A Duchenne smile, he noted, watching for the particular muscles in her face, old memories of medical texts surfacing from old habit. The woman quickly schooled her face into a more neutral expression however, probably just remembering that she had come here wanting to appear angry and powerful.

"I assume that at the very least the next step in the girl's new program can go ahead as we discussed?" She began walking out of the door, giving him no opportunity to tell her no, and stating quite clearly that it was going to happen now whether he liked it or not. It was time the old lapdog remembered his place around here, she thought angrily to herself. Her annoyance emanating partially from the fact that she had allowed him to take that much control of the situation. The man was an incredible psychologist- the Triumvirate wouldn't have hired him otherwise, and she should have been better prepared.

-

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Riley sat at a small table in the middle of the simulation lab, her back to the door. Her head rested on her arm, lying atop the workspace, while she beat out an irregular tattoo on the desk with a pencil. The odd rhythm helped to stave off her boredom as she waited to be taken back to her room, having finished her last simulation nearly half an hour ago. The pencil's beat stopped abruptly, as Riley felt more than heard a new presence on the other side of the door. She straightened out of habit and listened as the door behind her was pushed open. Grudgingly feigning disinterest, as the handcuffs framing her wrists and looped around the table leg wouldn't allow her to turn to face the new person; she listened raptly to the approaching footfalls, trying to match the stride to a recognizable owner. The eerie squeaking of wheels was only made conspicuous by its absence, and the footsteps didn't match the brisk, business-like manner of a sweeper. The stride was relaxed in its confidence, as though the person owned the place. The emotions in the air didn't match with Miss Parker, but the shoes did sound like the same kind that Miss Parker wore, a woman then... but not one that she was familiar with. Riley glared down at the silver bands encircling her wrists, uncomfortable with the idea of being at the mercy of some unseen foe.

"Ah yes, I can imagine that would be annoying."

Riley suppressed the urge to jump slightly in her seat as a voice behind her made its presence known. She turned her head to follow its creator as she came to sit beside her. Riley tugged her legs up to her chest, the loose handcuffs allowing just enough movement for her to rest her arms on her knees, as a subconscious way of ensuring her personal space around this unfamiliar woman. The stranger wore African clothes, with beautiful embroidery and more color than Riley could remember seeing in her life. She was tall, or at least tall to Riley, who wasn't exactly a giant in stature, and had very dark skin and even darker eyes, her hair was cropped close to her head and she carried herself in a manner that Riley could only describe as regally.

"Hello Riley." The woman spoke in English, though her accent gave the words an odd musical lilt.

"Ma'am." Riley said quietly. She tensed, her eyes widening slightly as the woman reached out; touching her on the cheek where Mr. Raines lessons from earlier had left a small bruise.

"Ah yes, you are a touchy one aren't you." The woman spoke, withdrawing her hand enough to allow Riley to relax slightly again. "A child of the Centre to be certain." She said, but Riley couldn't interpret the tone of her voice enough to tell if these words were spoken with interest or disapproval. She didn't know what to say to this insight so she stared determinedly at her shoes, tracing the crisscross pattern of her laces with her eyes. "You should have been ours from the beginning." The woman uttered quietly, making Riley think that she was no longer talking to anyone specific, but merely voicing an opinion. "I am a member of the Triumvirate, and I must say I was rather impressed with your presentation the other day. You are a very interesting subject, I doubt I've seen one of your caliber before- Jarod to be certain, but I must say he was rather a bit more temperamental if I remember correctly...yes...but it would seem that Mr. Raines has done a much better job with you..." The woman said the last part quietly, as though she were thinking out loud, and she trailed off at the end, leaving Riley to squirm under her piercing look. "Centre prodigies have always fascinated me, I'm a bit of a scientist by nature you see, and you all are quite the experiments."

Riley's hands balled into fists, latching onto the pants of her standard grey uniform to stop her hands from shaking and she fidgeted under the woman's scrutiny. Nervous thoughts ran rampant through her mind. She was sitting face to face with a member of the Triumvirate! But why? What had she done wrong?

"You're not scared are you?" The woman looked around the desolate room, before turning her attention back to the project in front of her. "But I suppose for such an isolated specimen as yourself even one unfamiliar person must be terrifying, especially without other people around. People you know of course."

Riley fidgeted even more with the handcuffs she was wearing, avoiding looking at the powerful presence next to her. She didn't like the feeling of having her emotions read so easily. She was so used to being the reader, rather than the one being read.

"Would you like to be rid of those?" The woman asked her, producing a key from a small inside pocket. Riley's gaze immediately flitted towards the camera above them recording her every move before she returned her gaze mutely to the woman in front of her.

"Don't worry about Mr. Raines, he has given his approval." The woman said, anticipating this reaction.

Riley gave a small nod, relief at being given the freedom of mobility seeping through her, though her face stayed relatively unexpressive. She was stoic. She was made of stone. She was not going to let her fear, her relief, or her thankfullness show. She was not going to give the woman anything to criticize her on.

The woman reached out and took Riley's cuffed hands, ignoring the pretender's immediate tensing. The woman unlocked the cuffs easily, but didn't let go. She watched as Riley's anxiety level built before purposefully altering her emotions so that she was sending waves of anguish that threatened to choke Riley's acute empathic senses. She watched the young girl's face express a series of emotions, her eyes screwing up in what seemed pain.

Rileycried out in agony, scrambling backwards the instant the woman let her go, tumbling out of the chair, which fell over with a clatter, the sound reverberating around the large laboratory. Shepushed herself up against the wall behind her, horrified stare flashing, up, down, up, from the woman then to her hands, as though they had been scalded. Her breathing was heavy, as though she had run a marathon, and her throat was tight and constricted. She tried desperately to gain control of her faculties, screwing her eyes shut against the water threatening to break behind them. Her mind felt as though it had been invaded, and sent shattering waves of misery between her ears, as though she had had her eardrums blown out. It seemed as though she could singularly feel each individual brain cell, and all of them were on fire.

"Intriguing. Riley I'm curious, did that cause you pain?"

Riley looked at her antagonist as though she had sprouted another head.

"Honestly girl, I'm only doing a bit of research, you can appreciate that. Now this is for posterity so answer truthfully, did I just hurt you?"

Riley pushed residual pain to the back of her mind as she adopted a neutral expression, for once in her life glad that she wasn't allowed to show her own emotions. She focused her gaze on her hands, attempting to ignore the woman in front of her. She was playing a dangerous game, ignoring a superior; she was blatantly disregarding a direct order. She should answer, but somewhere in between being treated like a child's favorite toy and being outright attacked she had lost the ability to use her own voice. Riley couldn't understand- her abilities had never been used against her like that before. It had hurt her, was she being punished? Had she done something wrong?

"Riley I'd like an answer or I may be tempted to perform that little experiment again. Do I make myself plain?" The woman continued. You could have never told from her voice that she was angry, it was in her eyes, they had gone cold and hard. The woman no longer needed to touch her for Riley to be accosted by emotions. The regal lady got up gracefully and moved closer to Riley, noting how the girl seemed to try to melt into the wall as she came within reaching distance. She touched a finger to Riley's temple and the teen curled into an- if possible- even tighter ball, biting into her lip until it bled to stop herself from whimpering in pain. Through a haze of anguish Riley felt the finger remove itself, somewhat lessening the spasms of torment being transmitted into her psyche. She cautiously opened her eyes as she sensed rather than heard Mr. Raines step in front of her and her attacker.

"Ms. Zurbin, if I might... have a word with my project?"

"Not at all Mr. Raines. Not at all."

Raines picked up Riley by the back of her shirt, dragging the traumatized teenager into an office just off the main SIM lab. He released her, pushing her against a chair, causing her to stumble and forcing her to sit.

"What did you think... you were doing?" Raines began. "You are a direct reflection on me, as well as the people who raised you." He wheezed, temper apparently rising far enough to cause him real difficulty breathing."You were speaking with a Triumvirate representative... and you showed her more disrespect than you have shown most people in a lifetime."

"I-I'ms-sorrysir." Riley mumbled dejectedly, shaking like a leaf and still trying to get over the pain that was lingering behind her temples.

"She asked you a simple question Riley. A child could have answered that... I expect better from you ." He growled. "No matter what anyone tells you to do Riley, you should always cooperate... You should always do as your told Riley, always." Raines hit the girl across the face, snapping her head to one side and worsening the bruise already present on her cheek. Riley stumbled to the floor at the impact, her legs rubbery from the previous moment's torture, mind spinning as she tried to come up with an argument for her behavior that might seem plausible.

"But-"

"It's not your place to argue, Riley." Raines said, stepping forward menacingly.

"But... I was following orders; your orders. You said not to show emotions... that they were weakness- I wasn't being disrespectful sir... You said not to show weakness." She said, still trying to get her spinning and stunned mind caught up with the present time.

"And my orders come first... correct?" Raines prodded her, especially interested in this answer as it would show him the results of her previous programming.

"Of course... I mean- they do... they always have." Riley answered, unsure if her answer was correct or not.

"Then if you aren't supposed to show emotions... and you are expected to answer... what should your answer be, Riley?"

"I don't- I mean-" She stuttered through her response, not quite sure what she meant. No, the answer was no; she didn't feel any pain, it had to be... Riley felt the solution Mr. Raines was seeking click into place in her mind. But that would be lying... and she wasn't supposed to do that either, what did he expect from her? Her frustration and anger, always near the surface as of late, rose quickly inside of her.

"What should your answer be Riley?" He prompted her.

Riley looked up at him from the ground in disbelief. "You want me to lie." She said, her tone almost accusing.

"No Riley, I want you to do what is expected of you."

"What's expected of me- but that is lying! How am I supposed to not show emotions, to not show pain, when its emotions that are causing me to be in pain! That's impossible!" She said, angrily rising to her feet. Something in the back of her mind told her she was yelling, told her that what she was doing was bad- she shouldn't be doing this, not in front of Mr. Raines. Not after everything she had been taught all her life.

"Riley!" His reproaching glare was enough to stop her tirade dead in its tracks. She wasn't used to disagreeing and the fight dissipated inside her until the only thing left was a hollow feeling reminding her that once again, her opinion didn't matter. She hung her head in miserable defeat, quietly waiting for whatever judgment the whim of her mentor decided she deserved. She steeled herself against the expected blow, but looked up in confusion when it never came. Instead, Mr. Raines seemed to have decided to answer her question.

"Ignore it. Take the pain and turn it into something you can use."

"Something I can use...?" Riley repeated, perplexed.

"Turn your pain into anger Riley... Use it as a motivation." He said. Riley wanted to ask what he meant, but he continued. "Take your weakness and turn it into strength... Harness it, control it so that it meets your needs; use your anger in your actions and decisions... You should always be the person in control of a situation... Don't ever relinquish that control. You are the person with the power to decide."

Riley chewed her bottom lip in hesitation, trying to wrap her mind around such a foreign concept. "Sir?"

"What."

"What if..." She paused before doggedly continuing with her question. "What if I can't control my anger?"

Raines paused before answering. "You'll suffer my... displeasure." He said darkly.

Riley diverted her gaze back to the ground, her imagination filling in the holes in the statement vividly, and she halted any more questions that might come to mind.

"Am I clear?"

Riley nodded mutely. Yes, he had made his point very clearly.

Mr. Raines left the room, and met up with a sweeper outside of the simulation lab. "Take the girl back to her space." He wheezed before procuring a manila folder and handing it to the man. "And get a team together." He ordered, indicating the folder in the large sweeper's hand. The man nodded once before opening the folder to the single sheet of paper it contained. He glanced at its contents before looking up questioningly.

"The Chairman's daughter Sir?"