~~Disclaimer: The Centre and all characters, with the exception of Sarah, are not mine,
and I didn't come up with the idea for the Pretender, so I only take credit for the storyline
and the characters I have created.


Let Be There A Light
Part 1
By Tchabu


Raines led the young girl into a small, dark room. On one wall was a large window. She knew that,
to those on the other side, it appeared to be a simple mirror, enabling her to watch without being
seen. She crossed the tiny space, gazing intently at the men in the room beyond.. One of them she
knew right away: Sydney, one of the men who worked here at the Centre. The other man's back was
turned to her, but the figure seemed familiar–she knew him somehow. The girl searched her mind for
his identity until Raines finally provided an answer to her unspoken question.

"It's Jarod," he rasped in a flat, yet somehow triumphant, tone of voice. "You did it. You helped us
find him."

Just then, the man turned to face Sydney. She instantly recognized him. This was the man she had
spent so many hours simulating; this was the man Raines had forced her to become time and time
again. She looked at him curiously, moving closer to the window. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to meet
hers and she stepped back under the weight of his gaze. She knew that he couldn't see her, but she
could feel his intense stare burning into her. His eyes were so different than anything else she had
ever seen. Dark, angry, cold eyes, filled with deepest pain. Somehow, she knew that he was kind
and compassionate, but she could not have said whether she knew this, too, from those eyes or had
simply sensed it. She whirled around to face Mr. Raines, her own eyes flashing with anger.

"This is Jarod? You told me he was a dangerous man, that he was a killer! You lied to me," she
screamed, trembling with anger. "We took his freedom away from him! You can't use him anymore."
At a quick motion from Raines, Sam and Willy grabbed the distraught, struggling girl and dragged
her out of the room.

***

Jarod sat in his space, finally alone. He was handcuffed to a chair in the middle of the room. It was
late. Dark bags circled his eyes; he'd hardly slept since they had brought him in the prior week. He
was still mentally raging at himself for being so easily caught. After three years of giving the Centre
the slip, they had simply come for him, taking him out of the apartment in which he had been staying.

Jarod's train of thought was broken abruptly as the vent in the ceiling was removed and a young girl
literally dropped, lightly as a cat, into his cell.

"The ceiling ones are always harder," she muttered, dusting her hands off on the dark slacks she wore.
Jarod sat there, speechless and wondering who this could be. Her hair long red hair was pulled into
a messy ponytail; he noticed wavy tendrils pulling loose around her face. She seemed young–he
guessed somewhere around thirteen years old. "Don't worry," she said, in response to his glance at
the security camera in the corner. "It's been temporarily disabled."

"Who are you?" he asked in hushed tones..

"My name is Sarah. I am a pretender, like you." Jarod was silent again, unable to hide his amazement
as she pulled a paper clip from her back pocket and went around to the back of the chair. He felt her
lean down over the cuffs and begin to fiddle with the lock. "I'll try and get you out of these as soon
as I can. They look pretty uncomfortable."

"I'm Jarod."

"I know," she replied.

"How do you know me? Why are you here?" Jarod finally let his questions spill out.

"Got it!" The cuffs fell away, and Jarod rubbed his wrists. "Let's just say that I owe you, and leave
it at that for now."

"How?''

"There isn't much time. Somebody will be in here soon. Do you want out?"

Jarod could not believe his ears. "How do I know I can trust you?" He searched her eyes for the
answer, though he already knew.

"Why else would I come in through the ventilation system?" He sighed, glanced away for amoment
and then nodded. "Good. Be ready tomorrow night, and I will be back. We have help." He looked
at her, and decided that she was really on his side.

"All right, I'll be ready."

"I have to go now. Would you mind giving me a little help?" He nodded again and silently boosted
her up into the hole in the ceiling. Sarah replaced the vent, crawled away, and was gone.

***

Sarah was sitting on her hard mattress, going over the plan in her mind. Everything seemed to be right
so she gathered up the few things she thought of as her belongings: a sketchpad, an extra pair of
slacks, and a turtleneck that she knotted into a make-shift backpack. As she finished up, she heard
a familiar tap. The vent high in the wall swung outwards to reveal Angelo's face. With practiced
ease, she took it his extended arm and swung up into the opening. She glanced backward into the
only home she had known for so long, set her jaw resolutely and worked her way through the walls
of the Centre.

***

Jarod, too, was ready. They had let him stay out of the handcuffs, but he hadn't left the space for over
36 hours now. He had grown increasingly anxious as hours passed, running questions and possibilities
through his mind. What if they failed? How would they get out? Who was helping them? He
expected to see a red head poking through as he heard the grating pulled aside. Instead, he saw
Angelo's grinning face. In silence he took the outstretched arm, and with a small jump, was lifted out
of the cell. They replaced the grating and scrambled off through the heating duct.

Jarod could just barely make out Angelo's form in the thick darkness. His heart was pounding; he
hated the lack of answers and his own lack of control in the situation, but he obediently followed and
accepted that he had no idea where the girl was or what exactly this night would bring.

Left, right, and left again, they crawled until they came to the huge chimneys of the Centre. Sarah
was waiting there for them, her face smudged in soot. She didn't seem to notice. Jarod mouthed
the words "now what?" and she pointed upwards in reply. They were going to climb up the
chimneys.

Sarah and Jarod embraced Angelo, whispering thanks before he disappeared back into the vents. The
redheaded girl immediately began to climb a small maintenance ladder. Jarod followed her without
question, gritting his teeth resolutely. The rungs were slippery with smoke residue, but slowly and
carefully, they continued to climb, finally emerging into the bright moonlight.

"How do we get down?" Jarod asked, leaning out over the immense drop.

"More climbing," Sarah replied. "There is another ladder down to the roof, and more over on the
west end of the building. After that, all we have to do is get past the Sweepers, and then we are out
of here!"

Jarod led the way on the descent and soon they reached the ground. Jarod grabbed Sarah's hand, and
firmly commanded her to stay close behind him as they crept across the lawn. This he had done
before and he knew exactly how to avoid the spotlights and security measures. Ducking and weaving
in and out of shadows, the escapees kept as quiet as possible. Every sound seemed magnified by the
stillness and tension of the night. Soon enough, however, they made it to the highway and each took
a deep breath.

"Come on, we're not safe yet," he said quietly. They began walking quickly down the highway,
simply wanting to put some distance between themselves and the Centre.

***

Two days later, Jarod and Sarah were hundreds of miles from Blue Cove and both were much better
for it. After the first, tense night of escape, Jarod's curiosity about the young girl had returned. He
had so many questions about her identity, her life at the Centre, whether her parents were out there
somewhere like his own. Still, he hadn't been able to get her to say much about herself.

Something in him wanted to know everything about this other pretender, and so he continued to press
her. Finally, he was able to get a very brief overview of her work. As she mentioned various sims,
Jarod's heart sank. So many sounded similar enough to his own simulations that he knew Sarah's
would have been used in the same ways. He wondered whether she understood that the chemical
research and supposed rescue missions would actually cause the destruction of many lives. He said
nothing as she spoke, knowing she would discover the ugly truth soon enough.

Suddenly, Sarah stopped speaking. She searched his eyes intensely for a moment–the thought struck
him that she was seeking answers to silent questions, but he could not be sure. Her voice became
tight and small as she turned her face away and continued to speak.

"Then I began to simulate you." Jarod was only vaguely surprised. He'd had suspicions that they had
been using another pretender. "Mr. Raines told me that you were a very dangerous man, a murderer.
I believed him." Here she dropped her eyes ashamedly. "I took your freedom away."

Before Jarod could respond, she turned and walked quickly into the adjoining room, shutting the door
behind her. He sighed deeply, sat on the edge of his bed and decided to leave her to herself.

***

Jarod passed the door to Sarah's room later that night. It was well after midnight and he was finally
preparing to settle down for a few hours of rest. He heard muffled cries and decided to check on her.
"Sarah? Are you all right?" He tapped at the door but received no answer, so he opened it and
looked into the room. "Sarah?"

He crossed the room to her bed, where she was sleeping restlessly. He switched on the bedside lamp
to see her tense face covered in sweat as she mumbled and cried in her sleep. He tried again to gently
rouse her from the nightmares. "Wake up, Sarah, it's only a dream, he said, laying a hand on her
shoulder.

At the touch, she sat bolt upright and let out a short scream. Her wide, frightened eyes glanced
quickly around the room before settling on Jarod. She tried to stammer out an apology through her
ragged breathing. "Oh, Jarod, I'm so sorry. I thought it was him, and I thought he was coming for
me..." She trailed off as Jarod put his arm around her.

"Will you tell me what you were dreaming about, Sarah?" he asked gently, surprised to note how she
was still trembling.

She shook her head. "I can't! He'll kill you!"

"It was only a dream, Sarah, and I promise that nobody will hurt me if you tell me about it. Now, will
you please tell me what it was about?"

She took a deep breath, obviously reassured by his soothing tone. "When I was a baby, I was
adopted. I don't remember my birth parents–in fact, I don't remember much from when I was very
little. I know my adoptive parents loved me, but not much else.

"I do remember the time a man came to the door in the middle of the night–I was still very young.
I watched him shoot my mother and stab my father..." Sarah closed her eyes for a moment as Jarod
wondered if she would continue. After a moment's silence, she spoke through gritted teeth. "He told
me that if I ever told anybody, what happened to my dad and mom would look like fun. I didn't see
him again for a long time.

"As my father lay there dying, he told me to be a good girl. He gave me this key," she showed Jarod
a small key that hung from a chain on her neck, "and said that it opened a box in a bank in Iowa, and
to never forget the address, and never let anybody take it from me. After going through several foster
homes, I wound up in the Centre. They tried to take my key away, but I kicked and screamed until
they finally gave up."

Jarod was quiet for a few moments. Something about the story bothered him. "You said that you
didn't see the murderer for a long time. Do you know who he is?"

She nodded slowly. "Mr. Lyle, from the Centre."

He had to struggle to keep his face calm, knowing he had to be soothing and strong for this young
girl. Still, the hatred and contempt threatened to surface as he again saw his brother killed by Lyle,
so he pushed the thought firmly from his mind. He smiled at Sarah in encouragement.

"Thank you," he said. "Lyle will never know that you told me." He paused. "Can you go back to sleep
now?"

"Yes." Sarah flashed the first smile she ever gave him as she crawled back under the blankets and
switched off the light.

***

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked. The two pretenders were rolling down the highway in the small
car Jarod had bought that morning. For a while, she had been content to just watch the scenery go
by and to take in all of the colors of which her previous life had been so devoid. She was amazed at
the smallest details: the fresh, clean taste of the air coming through her window, the bright, vibrant
blue of the sky and even the way the sunlight played upon leaves. Now, however, she had finally let
her curiosity get the better of her.

Jarod answered without taking his eyes off of the road. "To Iowa."

"Really?" She was absolutely incredulous.

"Really." He smiled. "Do you remember the address?"

"I've never forgotten. 4130 East Highland Drive, Willow Ridge, Iowa, box number 209," she recited
without hesitation.

"Good. We'll be there in about three hours."

Sarah turned to look out the window again, wondering silently what she might find in Iowa.

***

Willow Ridge was a good-sized town, judging from the sign that loudly proclaimed "Population
15,729." After renting a pair of adjoining hotel rooms for the night, they pulled up to the small bank.
Jarod parked the car and grinned encouragingly at the younger pretender. She seemed nervous.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" he asked.

After a moment's consideration, she replied. "No, if you don't mind, I think I should do this alone."

"I understand. I'll wait here."

Without another word, Sarah swung the door open and walked up to the building, clutching the tiny
key. Jarod sat in the car and waited. He was wishing that he had a safe deposit box waiting for him
as a link to his past when Sarah finally returned. She clutched a large manilla envelope to her body
like a security blanket. Sliding back into the passenger seat, she read the name, her name, that was
written in beautiful handwriting on the front.

"Do you want to open it now?" Jarod, too, was curious.

"No, I think I would rather wait until we get back to the hotel," she said, wondering what the
envelope could possibly contain. She knew that it would tell her something about herself, something
she desperately needed to know, but she wasn't sure what that could be or how she would react. She
held the package with her arms crossed tightly over her body until they reached the hotel and then
immediately disappeared into her room, wanting to be alone.

After closing the door behind, Sarah sat down on the bed and looked once again at the fine script on
the envelope. She took a deep breath. Her hands trembled as she gently opened the flap and slid the
contents out onto the bed: another envelope, letter sized this time, and a delicate pendant. It was a
tiny cross that perfectly matched her chain; she slid the pendant onto the gold cord she always wore,
then fastened it back around her neck. She glanced at her reflection for a moment, tenderly fingering
her completed necklace.

Sarah then turned her attention back to the smaller envelope. Inside she found a small photograph
folded into a letter. The picture showed a man and woman holding a tiny baby. She couldn't help
but notice the infant's red hair and that the woman was wearing a small gold pendant just–the one
she had found–before she turned to the letter. After reading it once, she paused, and then read it
twice more, letting the truth sink in.

***

After Sarah had disappeared into her room, Jarod decided to check for any new information in the
search for his own family. He'd received a few emails, but all were dead ends, so he was working
on the website with his mother's photo when he heard Sarah's door open. She walked over to the
desk where he was sitting and opened her mouth to speak, but no sound would come. Her eyes
widened as she saw the woman's face on the computer screen and wordlessly handed Jarod a photo
and a sheet of stationery.

He looked at her questioningly before studying the photo for a long while. Finally, he read the letter.
Stunned, he re-read it, just as Sarah had done. He now understood the pleading in Sarah's eyes as
he looked up at her in silence.

Then he found his voice. "You're my sister?"

She nodded.

Let Be There A Light
Part 2
By Tchabu

Sarah stood on the balcony of the hotel, watching the first sunrise she had ever seen. The sky was
gloriously aflame in a wash of colors; lavenders, oranges, and roses all mixed together into an
immense watercolor painting. As she took in the gorgeous scene, she mulled over the past few days
of her life.

Less than a week before, she had decided that it was time for her to leave the Centre. The girl had
been furious to find that her simulations had been used to track down an innocent man; she had
vowed never to help the Centre again. The fact that she had deprived Jarod of his freedom weighed
heavily upon her and so she had escaped with him, leaving the only life she had ever known or
understood. She hadn't known what to expect; when she was brought to the Centre, she was alone
in the world and had nobody who cared for her, so why should she have hoped anything would be
different now?

But it was so different. Just the previous night she had discovered a package addressed to herself in
a safe deposit box. The gold pendant, photograph and letter inside had all helped to explain a little
bit of who she was. Sarah pulled the letter out of her pocket, unfolded it and read it once more in the
early morning light:

Precious Sarah, you are now reading this because you are old enough to understand what we have
to tell you. First and foremost, your father and I love you so much. We miss you terribly every day,
but we knew that we could not give you the safe, happy life that we so desperately want you to have.

Your father and I were absolutely overjoyed when we found out you were on the way–we hadn't
thought that we would be having any more children. We were so blessed by you, but as you grew
we realized that you were a very gifted child and would someday become what is known as a
Pretender; you are able to become anybody in the whole world, to get inside of anybody's mind and
understand exactly how they think and feel. This trait runs in our family; your older brothers have
the same gift.

This is why we knew we could not keep you safe. When your brothers were very young, they were
taken from us because of this incredible gift. It has been many years since we have seen them, long
years of wondering about their safety and hiding from the very people who took them away from us.

Our only hope to protect you was to find a family who knew nothing of your past and so could not
give away your whereabouts to anybody who would take you away. This was one of the most
difficult decisions we ever had to make, but we know that they are searching for us and will never
leave us alone.

More than anything, we long to be reunited with you and your brothers, to see who you become and
finally be the family we always desired to be. We miss you terribly, Sarah, and we love you so much.

It was signed, simply, "Your Mother." Already Sarah had read that letter countless times and yet the
reality was only now beginning to sink in. She returned the paper to her pocket, considering Jarod's
reaction to the news. The surprising contents had left him nearly speechless; from his facial
expression, however, it had been impossible to tell what was running through his mind as he read it.
The uncertainty left Sarah worried that she was a disappointment to him as a sister—after all, how
could she expect him to forgive her for being the one to track him down? She knew she would never
forgive herself.

Sarah was still gazing at the stunning morning sky when she heard the glass door slide open behind
her. Without turning, she spoke to her older brother.

"Is there anything more beautiful, Jarod?" she asked, referring to the sunrise. She threw a sideways
glance at him and saw a smile that removed all doubts from her mind.

"I don't think so, little sister," he replied. After a short pause, he added, "You look so much like our
mother." He handed her the picture he always carried. Sarah studied it. He was right; it was almost
like looking into a mirror. They had the same deep, bright blue eyes and brilliant red hair.

"What do you know about our family... big brother?" she queried, trying out the last phrase somewhat
hesitantly and deciding she liked the sound of it.

"Not much," he admitted. "Our father was a Major, probably in the Air Force, named Charles and
our mother's name is Margaret. Kyle, our brother, was also taken to the Centre, where Raines was
training him as an assassin. He was kept in Sub-Level 27 after his supposed release date." Sarah
looked away, remembering what life had been like under Raines. She wondered how Kyle had held
up under it as Jarod continued. "He got out and we met up with each other. We started searching
for Mom and Dad, but Lyle murdered him while we were trying to help a family out."

Sarah couldn't help but notice how Jarod's voice had grown tight with emotion at the mention of
Kyle's death. She sensed the silent hatred that her brother carried towards Lyle and knew it was
mirrored in her own heart.

"Is that all he lives for?" she asked angrily. "To ruin other peoples' lives?"

"I don't know," Jarod answered.

********

The phone rang.

"This is Sydney," he stated clearly into the mouthpiece, grateful for a distraction from the stacks of
paperwork on his desk.

"Hello, Sydney," said a familiar voice.

"Jarod! It's good to hear from you. Eight months is a long time," Sydney scolded gently. "How are
you? And Sarah?"

"As well as anybody involved with the Centre ever can be. By the way," he said sarcastically, "how
are all of my dear old friends at the Centre?"

"Some better than others." Sydney smiled indulgently. "You should have seen Raines' face when he
was informed that not only had you escaped again, but that Sarah was gone as well." He paused.
"Why did you take her with you?"

"I didn't. It was more the other way around."

Jarod's closed tone told Sydney to not inquire further, so he changed the subject. "What are you
planning on doing now?"

"Oh, I don't know, I was thinking about getting something to eat," Jarod answered, purposely
misunderstanding Sydney.

"Jarod, you know what I mean. You may be a pretender, but you can't possibly expect to raise a
teenaged girl."

"It's not that simple, Sydney. Blood is thicker than water."

Knowing what was coming, Sydney exclaimed, "Jarod, please don't hang–," but, as usual, he was too
late. Hearing the other line disconnect, he set his own receiver back on the base. Blood is thicker
than water.... He turned the phrase over in his mind in a vain attempt to discern Jarod's meaning.
As well as he knew the younger man, he could never quite catch up to the trails he left.

The cold clicking of stiletto heels broke into his reverie as Miss Parker entered the room. "Don't tell
me," she commanded after taking one look at Sydney's pensive expression. "Boy Wonder finally
contacted you. Well, it's about time. Any clues as to what he's up to or why he picks some kid to
go along for the ride?

"When I asked him why he took Sarah with him, Jarod said it was the other way around."

"Great. Clear as mud. And what does he expect to do with a teenaged girl hanging around?"

"He also said that 'blood is thicker than water.'"

"Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, growing quickly impatient.

"We will just have to wait and see, Parker," Sydney said philosophically. "Jarod will let us know when
it is time."

"Spare me, Sydney! I can't be patient much longer. We'd been chasing your pretender for far too long
and then, when we finally catch him, he disappears again. Only this time, he takes another one with
him!"

Sydney decided to point the conversation in another direction. "Parker, do you know what Sarah did
while she was her?"

"Well, I assume she Pretended. After all, that was what she was here for, wasn't it?"

"Initially, she was entrusted solely to Raines, so I'm unsure of what her early life at the Centre
consisted. When Jarod escaped, however, she was reassigned as a joint project between Raines and
myself. Her sole purpose was to become Jarod."

Parker silenced Sydney with a wave of her hand, then snapped open her cell phone. Sydney heard
her summon Broots before she asked him to continue.

"Sarah spent half of her time with me, reworking Jarod's old simulations to assume his mindset. The
remainder of her work was done under Raines as she became Jarod and attempted to anticipate his
next movement."

He smiled, remembering her work with him. "Sarah is so talented. At such a young age she was
completing sims Jarod had struggled with just before he originally escaped. I never saw one that she
couldn't complete in less than twenty-four hours. In fact, it was one of Sarah's leads that brought us
to Jarod."

Parker cut in abruptly. "I can't believe I wasn't told about this!"

Sydney simply continued, ignoring the comment. "For whatever reason, Raines wanted Sarah to see
the man she had brought back. It was obviously a huge mistake. Something about Jarod must have
struck a chord with Sarah and told her he wasn't what Raines had made him out to be.

"After Jarod was brought back in, Raines took Sarah to see the man she had helped to bring in.
Apparently, it was a huge mistake. She became very angry and upset. There must have been
something about him that told her he wasn't the dangerous man Raines had made him out to be,
because she vowed that the Centre would not be able to use either Jarod or herself again."

"Did they ever actually meet?" Parker probed.

"No. Jarod couldn't have known she existed."

Broots entered, just as Miss Parker was saying, "I'm getting to the bottom of this. There is
something more that we don't know about this whole situation."

"Y-You wanted to see me, Miss Parker?" he said.

"Yes, Broots. I want you to find out everything you can about the pretender known as Sarah. I want
every bit of information of her that exists–whatever has not already been destroyed. I want to know
anything that could tell us why she went with Jarod.

Broots cringed at the thought, but didn't argue. "I'll get right on it, Miss Parker."

********

Sarah was making her bed and singing softly when Jarod quietly poked his head into her room. She
didn't look up so he remained silent, smiling as he watched her busily straightening up. They had been
renting this small two-bedroom apartment for two months now and Sarah had made the room her
own: the picture of her with their parents sat on the night table next to the sketchbook that doubled
as her journal. A few origami cranes were scattered about the room; Jarod had taught his little sister
to fold them, just as he believed their father had taught him.

He was pleased to notice how Sarah was finally beginning to feel at ease in her surroundings. During
the first several months of freedom she had been nervous and constantly on age. Now, while still
constantly alert, she had begun to shed some of the tension she had carried. After watching his little
sister undetected for a few moments, he stepped into the room.

"You have a beautiful voice," he said with a smile, "but why are you singing a Christmas carol in
August?"

She blushed slightly at the praise, but returned a flashing grin as she said, "It's the first song I can
remember. I heard it playing once in Sydney's office when I was in the vents with Angelo." Jarod had
soon discovered that most of the time Sarah hadn't been simming was spent crawling around in the
ventilation system. He was glad that she had found a friend in him and sometimes suspected a bit of
Angelo's gift had worn off on her.

"How is Sydney?" she asked, trying to change the subject. Jarod was amazed. This was one of those
times.

"He's doing well. But how did you know I'd spoken to him?"

Sarah laughed at her brother's surprise. Then she became a little more serious. "Actually, I don't
know. I guess there are some things I just sort of understand." Jarod could see that she was
uncomfortable, so this time, he changed the subject.

"What do you think about going to school, little sister? It starts in a few weeks."

She thought for a few moments, then the smile returned to her face. "I would love to."

"Are you sure? All of the work will be very simple for you, even if you are enrolled above your grade
level, and there might be times when we have to leave suddenly and not come back. I don't want you
to be disappointed if that happens."

"I know. It would be sort of fun to pretend to be a normal kid, though."

"Great," her big brother said enthusiastically.

********

"Here you go, Miss Parker," Broots said, laying a file on her desk. As she scanned through the
information, Broots gave Sydney a summary of what he had found. "There's no record of Sarah as
an infant. When she was still really young, she was the only witness to the murder of her parents.
After that, she was passed around through various foster homes, some of which were abusive."

"I remember when she first came to the Centre," Sydney remarked. "Sarah thought that those who
brought her were social workers and she was being taken to a new home."

"What I want to know," Parker interrupted, "is why nobody heard of this kid when she was a baby."

"That is pretty odd," Broots admitted.

"Well, you'd better figure it out, then," she said.