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Part 11 - Fortissimo
"There's a problem, Jarod."
The phrase cut through the conversation that had broken out after Jarod had finished explaining his idea.
"What is it?" He looked over at the technician, a hint of annoyance on his face that his wonderful idea could be compromised.
"Us."
"Who - us?"
"Everybody at this house. The use of that word will reveal all information about everything and everyone at the Centre - including bank account details, home addresses," he paused. "And all of the work any of us have ever done there: all your simulations and their results included."
Jarod sat down heavily and exhaled slowly. Then he looked up. "You're right. I hadn't even given that a thought. We'd be in as much danger from the Centre's competitors as from the Centre itself."
"Unless, of course, we could use that fact to our advantage."
Every figure in the room turned to the boy as he made that statement, still sitting in the easy chair in the corner.
"Well?" Jarod's impatient voice broke through the silence that followed. "We're all waiting to hear about your idea."
Steven slid forward in the chair until he was sitting on the edge of the seat, and pressed the tips of his fingers together as he spoke. "We create a wall. One that blocks certain information - not only about us, but a few vital pieces that the corporations will need as final proof before they tear into the Centre. Then we let them know that we will give them the information they want...if they give us the Centre in return."
Major Charles sat open-mouthed, staring at his younger son. "Are you saying that we would be in charge of the Centre?"
"Why not? We know everything that's wrong with it. We could do what people have been doing to us for years - invert the results. The Centre could become beneficial, and beneficial to us most of all."
"And that would give us a chance to save some of the projects that my mother always wanted to." Miss Parker's eyes gleamed and then she spun around. "Is it possible to build that kind of a wall?"
Jarod, Steven and Broots shrugged simultaneously. "It's a computer program," the three voices said as one. "You can always find a way around them."
"It occurs to me to wonder," Miss Parker began as she looked up from the chair in the corner to which she had retreated when the three males made a concerted dash for the computer and the other occupants of the room had fled, laughing.
Clearing her throat to get their attention, she tried again. "I would be very interested in finding out who put this password into play in the first place."
Jarod looked up from the keyboard that he had commandeered and smiled at her. "Would you be particularly surprised to hear that it was your mother?"
"When?"
"May, 1959, just after she learned that she had been artificially inseminated to create you and Timmy."
"What?!"
Miss Parker wasn't the only person staring at Jarod and the silent figure of her father stopped short in the doorway.
"I found a file that recorded the actual operation. I'm sure you can guess who performed it."
There was a long pause before Broots spoke up. "I think we can not only assume that Dr Raines saw you naked. I think it would be reasonable to guess that he was responsible for your whole creation."
Jarod nodded and then continued. "Catherine Parker was the first subject of artificial insemination within the Centre, or anywhere else in the world for that matter. Mr Parker suggested that, considering her state of robust health, she would make the perfect candidate. In addition, he had read in her diary about her inner sense, and that augmented his suggestion."
"And…why Sydney? Why not use himself?"
"In case it didn't work. If something went wrong, he could blame Sydney. When it went right, he took all the credit."
Miss Parker sat on the edge of the bed and held her head. When she heard the door open and close, she looked up to find her father standing in the doorway.
"Are you alright, Maleah?"
"That's the first time you've ever called me that."
"It's the first time I’ve ever felt comfortable doing so. You've been 'Parker' to me for so long."
"And I'm not even one of them," she spat angrily.
Sydney sat next to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders, his voice soft. "Would you really want to be?"
"I don't know. I'm so confused, Sydney," she burst out. "And I don't even know what to call you anymore!"
"'Sydney' is still fine. It took your brother a while to change, too."
She nodded and, in an uncharacteristic movement, wiped her nose with back of her hand. Sydney smiled and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, tucking it into her hand.
"Do you mind?" For a moment she was terrified to meet his eye, unsure of the expression she would see on his face. Gathering her courage, she finally looked up to find him smiling at her, tears in his eyes.
"No, Parker." He took her hand in his and kissed it gently, the intensity of his gaze forcing her to continue to meet his eyes. "I don't mind at all."
Jarod stood up and began to pace the length of the room, his hands linked firmly behind his head.
"What are we going to do?"
"Son?" The three looked over to see Major Charles standing in the doorway, a worried expression on his face. "Is something wrong?"
"Yes," Jarod nodded emphatically. "We don't know what information to hide."
Major Charles laughed. "You mean you've managed to build the wall already?"
"Of course," Steven tried to speak casually. "That was the easy bit..."
The older man walked over and wrapped an arm around the boy's neck, scrubbing his hair with a fist. Laughing as the boy fought to escape, he turned back to his oldest son, an expression of curiosity on his face.
"Surely it's just a matter of working out what the most important data would be..."
"But if we hide too much, then they would lose interest. If we don't hide enough, they'll have no use for us."
"Hmm, good point."
"Jarod," the technician looked up. "I think I might have the idea."
"Well?"
"Why don't we give them the 'who', 'what', 'when' and 'how'? Then they come to us for the 'where'."
"Wow!" Jarod dropped into a chair and stared at Broots. "I didn't know I was surrounded by geniuses."
"The point of no return. Are we going to do it?"
Jarod looked around at the other people in the room, watching as, one by one, they nodded their heads.
"Good. One push of this button..." The Pretender spoke decisively and then, as a humorous glint came into his eye, spoke again. "If there be anyone present who objects to the destruction of the Centre, speak now or forever hold your peace."
His finger hovered over the key. Then, firmly, he pressed it.
Miss Parker was lying on her stomach, her head resting on her hands, when Jarod entered the bedroom that night.
"Parker?" He sat down on the mattress and began to gently rub her back with his hands. "Is anything wrong?"
She shrugged silently, still peering blindly out into the darkness, now exacerbated by the fog that, after a day of clear weather, had returned. He lay down so that his head gently rested on the middle of her back and waited. It was more than twenty minutes before she began to fidget slightly underneath him.
"Better?"
He raised his head and his brown eyes met her blue ones. She nodded mutely and allowed him to wrap his arms around her.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to guess?"
"I..." Her voice was soft, so unlike her usual tones that he raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I don't know."
"You said that before," he reminded her gently. "You had your reasons then. Are you going to tell me what they are now?"
She smiled faintly. "I'm confused."
With a gentle hand, he stroked her cheek and ran one thumb along her jaw. "Is that all?"
"Isn't it enough?" Something in his tones stung her pride and she sat upright and stared down at him.
"It would be," he smiled gently, "in some people. But with you, I'd expect something more."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know me too well."
"Payback."
"For?"
"The fact that you know me too well."
Miss Parker smiled sadly and then lay down so that her hair brushed his arm. He raised it and rested one hand on her head, stroking gently with his fingers.
"Have you ever been afraid, Jarod?"
"Yes, Parker." His voice was a whisper as he turned his head. "I've been afraid almost my entire life."
"And how do you deal with it?"
"What are you afraid of, Maleah?"
"Syd?"
The psychiatrist looked up as his name was spoken by the technician who sat, as usual, by the bed of his rapidly recovering daughter. While Debbie slept, he was using the time for a little more investigation into the Centre's files.
"What is it, Broots?"
"Do you think we're going to get out of this alive? I mean we're going up against the Centre..."
Sydney nodded. "I understand. It sounds strange, but I think that if Mr Parker and Mr Cox were still alive, we would have less of a chance. As it is, we're against two people who have always managed to underestimate Jarod, if not the rest of us as well. There's also the added advantage that they think you're dead. That drastically improves our chances."
"Why?"
"Ask Jarod. He explained it to me..."
"...and I would gladly explain it again, but this is more important."
"Jarod!" Sydney turned to the door with a smile. "I thought you had gone to bed."
"Daddy..." a voice murmured.
Broots turned to the bed as his daughter spoke. "What is it, Debbie?"
"It's bright..." Her words were a mumble but Broots got up out of his chair.
"We'll go downstairs." He bent down and kissed her gently. "Good night, baby." As he followed Sydney and Jarod from the room, he cast one last glance over his shoulder before turning out the light.
"How's Parker?"
"Asleep, finally. She's... worried."
"Again."
"I think," Jarod's face wore a faint grin as he faced the technician, "it might be 'still'. She keeps seeing a scene in her mind that seems to involve Lyle and myself. I want to ask Ethan about it tomorrow."
"Actually," Sydney glanced at his watch, "why wait? You can ask him today."
Jarod threw a grin that was a mixture of amusement and frustration in the direction of the psychiatrist. "Thanks," he commented dryly. "Eminently helpful."
"I aim to please." Sydney's face reflected Broots' grin before he became serious again. "What was it that you started to say upstairs that was so important that you couldn't even explain to Broots why he's important?"
Jarod stood up from his chair and walked over to the window. "Correct me," he began slowly, "if I'm wrong but doesn't all footage, in order to be made into DSAs, have to go through one central process?"
Realizing that the question was being directed at him, Broots nodded. "Yes. In particular if the footage has been shot from an outside source and needs to be converted into the correct format. But even information recorded on the Centre's camera system has to be put through a central computer before it's accessible to anybody in the form of DSAs."
"Why, Jarod?" Sydney turned to the pretender, a questioning look on his face.
"It was something Raines said," Jarod returned. "For some reason, the comment keeps replaying itself in my mind."
"How on earth would you know what Raines said?" Broots looked mystified.
"Mr. Broots, what have we just been talking about?"
"DS... never mind."
"What was it, Jarod?"
"Something that he said to Miss Parker - about her mother..."
"Jarod! Jarod!"
The Pretender leapt to his feet as the voice of his father could be heard from the upper storey.
"Dad?"
"Son, get up here!"
Jarod ran for the stairs and was up them and out of sight in a matter of seconds as Broots and Sydney watched.
"Do you want to go up there?"
Sydney shook his head. "They'll call if I'm needed. In the meantime, we can start looking for it."
"For what, Syd? What was he talking about?"
The older man smiled. "Catherine Parker's DSA."
"Dad, what...?"
Jarod came to a stop outside his own room and glanced inside as he spoke, not bothering to finish his sentence as he saw Miss Parker twitching in a violent nightmare on the bed. He looked over his shoulder as he stepped over to the bed. "Get Ethan."
Major Charles nodded and disappeared from the doorway. Jarod turned back to the bed and looked down at Miss Parker. Leaning down, he placed a gentle hand on her cheek, then jumped backwards as she lashed out at him.
"Don't touch her." Jarod jumped again as he heard the voice in the doorway and looked up to see their brother standing there. "Talk to her."
"What?"
"That scene she told you about - she's seeing it, hearing it… feeling it again. Say something to her." He moved over to the bed and stood beside his brother, staring down at the woman. "Trust me."
"Parker," Jarod looked away and focused on her. "Parker, it's me. It's Jarod."
"No," the voice from the bed was faint. "No, it's not true."
"Parker, open your eyes. Look at me. Please."
The last word was choked, Jarod in almost as much pain from watching her suffer as she was in suffering it. Ethan looked down and then placed one hand on his sister's shoulder and shook hard, ducking as she struck out with one hand in his direction.
To the relief of both, however, the act resulted in her eyes flying open and she sat upright. Jarod clutched her to him and held her against him, tears standing out in his own eyes as the salt-laden droplets poured down her cheeks.
"It's all right," the Pretender spoke soothingly as he rocked her gently. "It's over, Parker. It's over. I'm here."
"No," she whispered. "It's not over." She looked up at Ethan. "It's not over yet, is it?" She pulled gently away, allowing Jarod to keep one arm around her, and they both looked up at their brother.
"I don't think so." He leaned against the wall facing them, his arms folded over his chest.
"Tell me what it is." There was a commanding tone in Jarod's voice. "Then I can work out how to avoid it."
Ethan shook his head. "You don't understand. There's no way to avoid what we saw. It just..."
"We?" Jarod looked sharply at him. "You didn't tell me you saw it too."
"I didn't want to worry you."
"Oh, great." Jarod threw both hands up in the air and got up off the bed, pacing across the length of the room. "I'm about to get killed but nobody bothers to tell me when, how, where or any of the other important things."
Ethan looked up at his brother. "It's... complicated."
"So tell me what you see." Jarod tried to speak calmly. His brother paused for a moment before responding.
"There's you and Lyle facing off - but only he's holding a weapon. He forces you down - and that's it..."
Miss Parker shuddered as he spoke the words and pulled her legs up to her chest, sliding backwards so that she rested against the wall at the head of the bed. Ethan sat beside her and placed one hand on her foot, watching the pretender as he continued to wear down the carpet.
"So I'm going to die..." The words were whispered but Ethan heard them.
"Nobody ever said that you were going to die, Jarod."
"No, of course not. I'm just about to get into a confrontation with Lyle. Well, I've got news for you, brother. Most of those meetings don't work out well for one or the other of us and I think that if Lyle was the one who was going to get the raw end of the deal, your sister probably wouldn't be reacting that badly."
He reached the end of the room and stared hard at the wall for a moment before turning around, his eyes narrow. "'That's it...' What do you mean by that? If I'm not going to die, what is going to happen?"
Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. I can't get further than that. Whether it's because my mind won't let me or that she won't show me, I don't know."
"Great," Jarod growled, half to himself. "Either I'm definitely going to die or else I'm possibly going die. What a wonderful choice." With an inward tremble that he struggled hard to suppress, he opened the door and walked out, slamming it behind him.
Jarod sank down at the base of the tree and looked upwards, his head pressed back into the hard trunk and one tear slowly making its way down his face. He still shook slightly from a combination, now, of both fear and cold. The moon shone faintly through the mists and, away to his right, a faint light could be seen to be the glow from the many windows of the house.
"Jarod?"
The female voice came faintly from the same direction as the light and he turned his face away with a soft moan. A light, first glowing faintly orange and then every moment becoming more yellow showed itself finally to be a torch carried by his sister. She came up beside him and, with loving arms, wrapped his jacket around his shoulders.
"If you don't warm up, Lyle might not get his chance."
"How did you know?" He looked up at her, a hint of resentment on his face.
"Ethan had to explain to Dad, Sydney and Broots why you took off the way you did. I heard what he said and slipped out to look for you."
"And… Parker?"
"Her father is with her."
Jarod nodded and then allowed his head to sink on the arms that were resting on his bent knees. His sister knelt down and wrapped her arms around him.
"Jarod." Her voice was soft and, as he looked up, he could see the tears in her eyes. "I..." Unable to continue, she looked down at him. A tear slipped down her cheek and dropped onto his own. Finally she spoke again. "Won't you come back to the house? Please?"
He nodded mutely and she helped him to his feet. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they walked in silence towards the increasingly brighter lights away to the right.
They entered the living room to find their family waiting for them. Steven jumped up as they appeared and threw his arms around Jarod. The Pretender thankfully knelt down so that they were looking eye to eye and allowed himself to be firmly embraced, retaining hold of the boy as he stood up.
"Dad..." His voice broke as he looked over at the man he was just beginning to get to know as his father and whose eyes now bore an expression of unutterable sadness.
"I know, son. I know."
Getting up, he put one hand gently on his son's shoulder and then left the room, sighing sadly as he did so. Jarod caught his sister’s eye and nodded in the same direction. She smiled faintly, tears in her eyes, and then followed her father out of the room.
"Ethan," Jarod sat down on the sofa, his arms still wrapped around his clone, and glanced over at the only other person in the room. "Where's Parker?"
"In with Sydney and Angelo."
"And Broots?"
"With his daughter."
Jarod nodded. In his own mind, he was thinking that this was what a condemned man must feel in the hours before being led to the death chamber. He gave a second inward shudder.
"We still have things to do."
"But not yet. Not tonight," Ethan answered and then stood up. "I'm going to find out how my sister's doing."
Jarod nodded and watched as his brother left the room. In the silence, he could feel his clone shaking with silent tears.
"Steve."
The boy's arms tightened around his neck at the sound of his voice. "I won't let him do it, Jarod! I swear, I won't! I'll kill him! I'll..."
"Steve." He pulled the boy gently away so that he could look down on the small, tear-stained face. "You'll be their best comfort." He paused. "Don't do anything that would disappoint them."
Numbly he watched as the boy sprang off his lap and fled the room, his sobs loudly puncturing the otherwise silent house.
