Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements.

Time to Consider
Chapter 8
By Callisto

Alvear Hotel – Present
Buenos Aires, Argentina

Norwood was certain he was on to something. He had found a good lead and was following it in the same manner he thought an American private detective would adopt. Now, Norwood was brilliant. In some cases, he would rival Jarod easily where it came down to quantum mechanics and mathematics but overall he was seriously lacking. The lead Norwood found a reasonably bright child would have been able to run down in half the time it took this guy. Talk and gossip had quickly turned into urban legend about the beautiful angel who had appeared out of nowhere and prevented a murder from occurring. The story had taken on enormous proportions by the time Norwood haphazardly stumbled upon the obvious. He asked his questions with a modicum of discretion and was finally directed to the Alvear Hotel. This swanky hotel was bustling with tourists. A regular hive of activity with all sorts of shady types hanging around waiting for any hapless, half-wit would-be detective to stumble in and announce that he knew what happened to the missing heroine.

Norwood was quick enough to recognize that he shouldn't just walk up to the front desk and ask his questions. The information the vendors in the University plaza had freely given him implied that this woman was possibly dangerous. With admirable patience, he waited until he was able to find a busboy trying to sneak in a break before the next crush of tourists came crashing through. A few pesos in hand emboldened him to approach the weary worker and inquire about the story he had heard in the plaza. Without any prompting, the bored man told Norwood that the woman and her servants had indeed stayed here but that she had mysteriously disappeared. It was suspected that perhaps the man whose head she had bashed in worked for the government, but he didn't know. Norwood listened to this and asked which room the woman stayed in and if the police had already searched it.

The busboy, figuring he had run into a late-bloomer sensationalist, stated she had been on the 11th floor but that a contingent of strange men in business suits had moved in and were asking many questions. Norwood was curious about this last bit of information but it failed to register properly on his one-track mind. Nodding distractedly, he handed the busboy the bills in his hand, without being asked, and went into the building from the employee entrance.

Once on the 11th floor, it didn't take long for Norwood to find the woman's room. Dark-suited men and women kept entering and exiting the suite as though it was the hub of a massive operation. The bumbling, would-be detective openly passed the guarded door twice, before the sweepers decided to take notice and drag him inside. It was Karl's replacement, Sam whom the spotters brought the hapless Norwood to meet.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked in his most intimidating voice. He, like the rest of her team, was worried about Miss Parker and wanted to know for certain that she was safe. The way things were going he doubted they would ever see her again, which was fine with him. Her safety could only be assured if she stayed missing and Sam doubted this moron had much to offer.

"I heard the stories in the plaza about a beautiful lady coming to the aid of a porteño, or local and I came to see for myself if they were true," Norwood replied nervously.

Sam stared at the kid. It was obvious from his nervousness that he knew more than what he was saying. Sam decided to continue questioning this nerdy looking kid for a while longer before turning him over to Willie. He wanted to make sure the kid was a true player before putting him through that kind of wringer.

Wyman Cabins – Past
Lake Catherine, VT

Another couple days passed in which Parker and Jarod spent as much time together as possible—this was achieved by a great deal of wiliness on their parts to avoid the usual restrictions. Jarod was taking nothing for granted as he enjoyed Parker's company and the deepening of his feelings for her. For her part, Parker realized how much she missed not having a friend or just someone to talk to freely. To her, this time spent with Jarod was much like an extension of their commiserating late-night telephone conversations. The ease she felt while being around him insidiously became the norm, so when he tentatively leaned in for a kiss, she didn't resist. Like on Carthis, she was surprised that he could ever consider her as a potential lover. On the island, the weakening influence of her training had been tempered by her father's presence. Now, with their extreme, bizarre circumstances, resulting loneliness and the need to relate with someone her true age, she kept coming back and subtly encouraging Jarod's interest.

Facing her own urges became necessary one day when they met at a barn on the outskirts of town. Sharing a seat on a bale of hay, they were talking quietly about Parker's experiences with her mother. What she couldn't or rather wouldn't express were the unexpected changes she felt going on beneath the surface. Being tactile was her mother's habit, along with numerous acts of casual kindness and displays of affection had all acted on Parker's spirit the way water nourishes and feeds a thirsty plant. It was because of this exposure and its consistency, which was the exact opposite of her prior life and training, that she finally pushed aside the last of her reservations and thoroughly surprising him, she firmly took hold of his smoothly shaven jaw and kissed him firmly. For the second time in his life, she had surprised him with that move and just as when they were kids he happily went along. She pulled away slowly and looked at him, instead of triumph, her eyes revealed a bit of uncertainty.

Jarod smiled, as the sound of voices outside caused him to look away. The barn had a stable nearby where, for a small fee, vacationers could spend the day on horseback. Jarod took her hand and tried to lead her up a rickety ladder for some added privacy as the heretofore silent voices in her head began to loudly chant warnings to her. She stopped abruptly and looked around until she found what they needed—a large stack of hay bales behind which they could hide. Tightening her grip on his hand, she pulled him to this hiding place and motioned for him to remain silent. They waited. For several minutes nothing happened, then the soft sound of a tentative footfall rewarded her caution. Silently, she crouched down while Jarod peered around the hay bale to find a man only a couple years older than he had entered the barn and was looking up.

Careful not to make any unnecessary noise, the sweeper listened for the sounds he expected to hear in the loft. All was silent as frustration began to grip his patience. He had seen the girl through his binoculars and was certain she was the target he had been sent to retrieve. They hadn't told him that she was beautiful—just willful. Anticipation reasserted itself as he reached out to grab hold of the ladder with one hand while extracting a Sig Sauer 9mm pistol with his other.

Parker wasted no time, the voices were chattering in her head again. At her feet was a heavy metal tool used to hoist and reposition the heavy bales. She gripped the tool securely in her hands and waited for an opportunity. Out of her line of vision, Jarod's eyes grew wide with alarm and shock. He recognized the man who started up the ladder. When the young man had gotten up only two of the steps, Parker silently crept up behind him. The man's training immediately kicked in as the tiny sound of a footfall crinkled behind him. Before he could consciously make a move a tall figure revealed itself from behind a hay bale. The man started to point his weapon at the figure when an agonizing pain caused him to lose consciousness.

Parker looked down at the man crumpled at her feet. He seemed vaguely familiar but she couldn't quite place him. A pale-looking Jarod joined her and continued staring at their captive.

"Do you know who he is?" she asked, never bothering to question her actions or the voices in her mind that prompted her.

"Yes. He's trouble with a capital C. We need to dispose of him as quickly as possible."

She narrowed her eyes at his reference to the Centre but refrained from asking any questions—yet. She began searching the barn, eventually coming up with some rope. Jarod quickly took it from her and with Parker's help began tying the man securely, until his body was crisscrossed with bindings. Jarod stood up to examine their handiwork.

"Are you sure he's from the Centre?"

"Yes. And the farther we can manage to get him from here the better," he replied grimly. At her puzzled, irritated expression, he said, "He's a pretender—marginal but one of the most amoral I've ever met—even more so than Alex. Alex was nuts and knew it, this guy isn't crazy—just evil."

At the mention of the name of the man who had shot her 'father' and would've killed her if Jarod hadn't interfered, Parker involuntarily shuddered. The crazed look of unhinged depravity that was Alex was permanently etched in her mind.

"What about the bus?" she asked quietly.

"The bus?" he answered slowly. The sight of the large commuter bus that had been parked in front of the general store sprang readily to mind. A sly smile graced his face as Jarod looked from his watch back down at the unconscious man. "Perfect. There's one leaving in about 20 minutes." Thinking quickly, he looked around in vain for a few seconds before climbing the ladder to the upper loft. There he found what he was looking for—an old worn blanket. He tossed the heavy cloth to the ground and followed it down, careful to avoid getting any splinters in his hands. He draped it over the man, completely covering him.

"That should keep him from knowing for certain who caught him. I need to go home to find something to stuff him in, will you be okay here on your own?"

"Of course. But go over to the general store instead. There'll be fewer questions and I have an idea that'll help us get him past the driver."

Jarod nodded and sprinted off. It felt good and natural scheming with his old friend once again. She was almost her old self but nothing could bring back that sweet little girl who cried on his shoulder after they had gone looking for death and found a dying Faith.

Parker walked away from her captive the second Jarod left. With calm deliberation she walked up to a smallish tree and removed several leafy tender branches. Her mother's voice, or rather her grandmother's voice was still in her head protecting her. Curiously it was Catherine who, on Parker's first day of waking up in sci-fi land, confirmed that she too looked and sounded like her mother. Uncomfortable with having the man's blanket covered body exposed to the open barn door, she took hold of his bound feet and dragged him into the shadows. This produced an agonized male groan. She was about to hit him again when Jarod showed up.

The pretender grinned at his newest ally as she glared balefully at her quarry. Fortunately, the bored store clerk was only mildly curious and was more than happy to help him find just about everything he needed. Producing a heavy tarp, Jarod rolled the body onto its side and uncovered him. It took 20 minutes before he was satisfied with the final result. The man was bound, with tape covering both his eyes and mouth. The green tarp wrapped up the package neatly as he wiped sweat from his brow. To complete the picture and fool anyone giving their package only a cursory glance, Parker placed the branches so they were strategically sticking out, giving the overall appearance of a small sapling tree being shipped. Jarod smiled, thoroughly satisfied with her creation.

They asked the driver if he had room for a large package they wanted to send and inquired how long would it take to reach the end of his route. He told them the bus itself would eventually wind up in Florida which encouraged them to eagerly load the entire mess into the practically empty luggage hold. Afterwards, Parker approached the driver inside the general store, smiled sweetly and inquired if the driver wouldn't mind leaving her Aunt Dorothy's birthday present in the bus luggage hold until she showed up to claim it. The driver hesitated, then smiled brightly at the $20 bill she was handing him, assuring her that he would keep her secret up to very the end. The two watched as the bus lumbered on slowly to start its winding route through New England and points south.

"You really think that little container of fruit juice will keep him going?"

"He knows survival tactics. The slit I cut into the tape will allow him access to the straw and keep him hydrated long enough for him to catch someone's attention the next time they reach in to get their luggage. Which shouldn't happen for another few hundred miles. By then our driver will have forwarded the address to the fresh driver and no one will know the difference."

"So who was he and why did you turn white when you got a good look at him?"

"His name is Damon. He had misused some of my sims for profit, creating more misery while murdering thousands. He's an indiscriminate murderer who has no difficulty committing an atrocious act just to make a point. Comparatively, he makes Alex seem mildly dysfunctional."

"I remember that. We found a DSA showing your run-in with him at the Centre. He seemed to enjoy killing that mentally retarded guy."

"What worries me is that he was looking for you," Jarod stated with calm certainty. "I was never raised at the Centre in this reality, so he wouldn't know I existed, but he does know your father and Raines. My only guess is that he was sent to find you and I was in the way."

"He was just going to kill you for being with me? My God, Jarod," she said with deepening disgust.

"There's only one person I can think of who would've sent him," he said turning to look at her.

"My so-called-father," she answered with a sinking heart. It figured the minute she made a halting move on Jarod, Mr. Parker would come crashing in to stop her. "When he realizes that his kidnapping attempt went awry, he'll want to show up in person. I'll have to warn Ben, there's no way around it. He's the only one who can use the Triumvirate to get my uncle to back off."

Jarod nodded solemnly, noting the casual reclassification she used to refer to the man she always knew and loved as a father. He didn't want her to leave. His heart had been touched in a way that he knew no one else would ever match. His need for her had grown and he didn't want to lose her to her uncle—again.

History can be devastating. Had either known what the events were supposed to be in this time frame, they would've realized that they had saved Parker a great deal of pain and heartache. Not what they had foreseen in her return to the waiting arms of her Uncle, Mr. Parker but that destiny in this time had another mate in mind for her—Damon. He was supposed to kidnap her but on the way back to Blue Cove, he would've had time enough to find Miss Parker extremely attractive, intelligent and angrily disillusioned by her mother's revelations. The resulting relationship then eventual marriage would've been murderously disastrous.

Like a tiny pebble thrown in the middle of a large quiet lake, this incident rippled throughout the timeline. When they changed history in the variant reality, they also changed it across the board. Without any fanfare or warning, the long, hot summer Parker had spent with Tommy Tanaka when she had been seventeen was effortlessly erased. Her memories and all those associated with it were neatly adjusted to the new reality where her time in Japan had been enjoyed alone. When Lyle needed a translator, Mr. Parker had instead sent the mysterious Mr. Cox along with an approved translator to seal the deal, opting to keep his daughter in the dark about his lethal, underhanded dealings. The result was the same—Jarod still stole the money from the account Sydney warned him had been set up by Raines to receive it. Norwood's professors had been right after all.