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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 8
Charles
It had been two hours since they had first found the letters, and Charles was still coming to terms with the fact that his son was seemingly so important to the Centre that they would begin the program of ruining so many people’s lives to fulfill some prophesy. Nat was searching through the stores to see if there were any other hints that might provide them with any further information, but so far he hadn’t found anything. The stores were easier to search than the archives, as everything was filed in chronological order. Jarod still sat beside him, occasionally glancing at the things Nat found, but mostly staring blankly at the floor. Maybe he was finding it hard to deal with, too.
“You know,” Nat said suddenly, “I’m surprised anyone left that piece of paper in a folder in the archives. It’s a bit of a giveaway when you come to look at it.”
“Which one?” Cici asked curiously. Then, as Nat waved it at her, “Oh, that wasn’t among the pile Prodge got from the archives. I found that in the secret pocket of her jacket and added it to that bundle later. I have no idea where she got it. You’ll have to ask her.” She stood up and wandered over to the table, pulling the sheet over towards her and looking at it. Then she looked up again. “What was in the other file?”
“I haven’t looked,” Nat admitted, with the honesty that was characteristic of him. The file opened on the screen, and he sat back in his chair. “A photo. It’s big, though. It’ll be a few seconds…”
Then he turned the screen around so that Cici could see it. Charles looked, too, and gasped, the breath escaping before he had a chance to realize. He saw Jarod shoot him a sharp glance and then look at the photo himself. From the expression on his son’s face, Charles knew that Jarod had recognized his mother.
“Catherine Parker!” Cici exclaimed in astonished tones. Then, even as Charles felt something clench in his stomach, he saw her eyes travel over Margaret’s face and then up to his own with something like curiosity in them.
“Yes,” he agreed before she could speak. “That’s my wife.”
“They knew each other?”
He shrugged, sitting down heavily in a chair on the other side of the table. “Apparently,” he said in nonchalant tones. Then, seeing the look in her eye, he sighed and tried again. “Not intimately. This was taken after we split up to find Jarod and Kyle. Catherine was responsible for us finding a safe place to live with Harriet Tashman. Harriet once told me that Catherine had come to her to see if we could stay at her farm. It was just after Kyle was taken.”
Nat had moved the laptop back and was hunting through the records of the two files he had just opened and looked up after the silence had continued following Charles’ final words.
“Boss? Apparently nobody’s touched these files since they were created.”
Charles looked up sharply. “When was that? No, wait,” he said quickly, before Nat could speak, as an idea developed in his mind. “Let me guess. It was in the early hours of Monday, April 13, 1970.”
He could feel that people were staring at him, and, even as he stared blankly at the floor, reliving that day and night over in his mind, he heard Nat’s voice agreeing.
“That’s Catherine’s code,” Cici’s voice said over his head, and Charles looked up to find that she had moved behind the desk to look at the screen.
She was pointing at the details Nat had found of the document’s history, and particularly at the code of the author. A new feeling slipped in around the pain of remembering his betrayal, and he inhaled shakily. So she had kept her word after all.
“That,” Cici suddenly said, “was the day Catherine died. I heard a rumor she died down on the sim lab level. Shot herself in the elevator or something.”
“Was shot,” Charles corrected, looking up. “By me. And,” as he saw Cici recoil, “it was ironic that it should have been on that level. It was the only sim I was ever involved in.”
The horror in the doctor’s eyes faded to wariness. “What do you mean?”
Charles sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had never expected to have to explain this to anyone, and for a moment, it was hard to know where to begin. He looked at his daughter and, with his eyes, summoned her over to hear the story. Meg and her children had left the room hours before.
“Raines started the rumor about Catherine killing herself before it even happened,” he said softly. “I came onto the scene by accident. I got a note from Harriet, which she said came from Catherine, telling me that my sons were inside the Centre, and how I could get in. There used to be a vent cover that led out to a thickly wooded area out back,” he added. “When I got there, the cover was open and so I went in. I had the gun I’d been given when I joined the Circle of Fire flying unit and I knew so little about the Centre then that I felt pretty safe with it. But there was only one vent unlocked and when I got into the room, Raines was already waiting for me.”
Nat’s eyes widened at this, but Charles turned his eyes away from the boy’s face, determined not to be distracted from his story.
“Raines said that he should kill me, but instead I could be very useful to him. If I did what he said, I could leave when it was over and no one would ever need know I was there.”
“Did you do it?” Cici asked, and he looked up at her.
“What would you have done?”
She only nodded, and he continued.
“I was given blanks for my gun and fake identification papers, and was told that my target would be in the elevator at a certain hallway. He ushered me up there and pointed me in the direction of the elevator, with a photo of Catherine, although he didn’t tell me who it was. I thought about using the ID to get around the Centre and find my children, but he said he’d be watching me all the time, and the first move I made that wasn’t what he’d told me to do was have me killed. So I went to the elevator and waited. Finally, it arrived, the doors opened and Catherine was standing there. I lifted the gun and fired twice. Then I heard a voice – a child’s voice – screaming. It shook me so that I ended up putting a hole in the wall of the elevator with my third bullet, which turned out to be real. I suppose Raines really wanted Catherine dead, but didn’t want the blood on his own hands.”
“Why would he?” Cici demanded.
“I don’t know,” Charles shot back. “Would you hang around asking questions of Raines if he was threatening to have you killed?”
“What about sweepers?” Nat asked.
“There were plenty,” Charles replied. “They jumped on me – not before I had the chance to see Catherine’s daughter, of course. I suppose that’s what she was, anyway. She was screaming for her mother. That’s all I saw before they dragged me away.”
“But they didn’t kill you,” Jarod said in a strangled voice, and Charles wondered at the expression in his eyes. It was almost understanding.
“They dragged me into a room where Raines was waiting,” his father replied. “It was the same one I’d snuck into earlier. He sent the sweepers away – all but one, anyway – and when they were gone, opened the cover. He told me to get out and I took off. Then he fired his gun in my direction, down the vent. It’s still in my back,” he added after a moment of horrified silence. “I’ve never wanted to limit myself by having it removed, and apparently it’s not causing any problems.”
The silence continued for a moment before he spoke again, and as he did so, he leaned over the desk and picked up the plastic envelope containing the sheet of paper.
“This was lying inside the vent itself, in front of the cover that led to the room where Raines was waiting,” he said. “I thought I’d pick it up when I left, so that I wouldn’t have anything on me if I was found while I was inside the Centre. I never got the chance to do it.” He looked down at it wonderingly. “I wonder what happened to it.”
“Did Catherine tell you it’d be there?” Cici asked.
“Yes.” Charles nodded. “She said that, in case I couldn’t find my boys inside the Centre, she’d leave me something that would help me to locate them.”
“It would have, too,” Nat said, having examined the documents he had found in the stores more closely. “The code it was filed under is the same as the code all of Jarod's details are filed under, with two letters in front. MC.”
“I doubted her for years,” the older man admitted. “I thought she’d set me up, told Raines that I’d be there. I don’t know how he found out – I probably never will – or why I had to pretend to kill her. But I’m glad she, at least, didn’t betray me. I was afraid she had,” he went on in the deathly silence that had filled the room. “As soon as I got back to the farm, I made Margaret pack up and we left immediately. Emily was only six months old,” he added, smiling tenderly at her, and then he continued with a rueful sigh. “But I was terrified they’d have found out where we were, so we left what was probably the only really safe spot in the whole world.”
Cecilia
Cici watched Shannon scoop the last of the fruit of the bowl, spoon it into her mouth and then sit back against the pillows with a satisfied sigh.
“I needed that.”
“I’ll bet.” The doctor took the bowl away with a grin. “Walking for twelve hours, sleeping for a further twelve, and with only one small bowl of soup in between. But then, you always did try to do the impossible, Prodge.”
Shannon giggled and snuggled down in bed. The doctor thought that, particularly with her hair cut short and in an oversized nightdress, the girl looked younger and more innocent than Cici could ever remember seeing her. Even the obviously fearful state in which Shannon had spent the first few months of her freedom hadn’t resulted in the same sense of innocence that seemed to shine from her eyes now.
And that only made it harder to tell her the truth about her condition.
Cici was, for the first time in her life, procrastinating. It made her feel uncomfortable and she was alarmed at how many ways she had found of doing it. She had come into the room two hours ago with the intention of telling Shannon what they had discovered, and was still no closer to doing so than she had been then. Now, however, seemed like the most opportune moment. She paused to gather her thoughts, and then opened her mouth to speak.
Someone knocked on the door.
Profound relief washed through her, even as she called ‘come in’ and turned in her seat to see Charles in the doorway.
“Cici, we’ve got a problem with Freya.”
The doctor leapt to her feet, even as Shannon spoke from the bed. “Sofia. Her name’s Sofia.”
Charles and Cici immediately stared at her. “How,” the Boss asked slowly, “do you know?”
“We worked together once,” Shannon said matter-of-factly. “I don’t know when it was, but I know we did a sim together. It was probably a few years ago now, though. She looked quite a bit older in the photo I saw when we were planning.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Cici demanded, feeling that, considering the problems they had had with the girl, frustration was a reasonable emotion.
“You never asked.” Shannon shrugged and then looked at Charles. “Why, what’s wrong?”
Charles crossed the room to the bedside and picked up the gown that was draped over a chair near the bed before offering his hand. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
A few moments later, Cici followed Shannon and Charles, who was supporting her, into the room next door, in which Sofia had been put. The girl was cowering in the corner, her hands over her face, while Nat knelt in front of her, trying to talk to her. He looked up as the three people came in, and Cici could tell from his expression that Sofia hadn’t been responding.
Shannon released her hold on the Boss’s arm and slowly crossed the room, gesturing to Nat to move away. The young man shot an enquiring glace at Cici as he did so, and the doctor nodded very slightly. This might be their only chance to get through to this girl, and they couldn’t afford to ruin it.
When she was still several paces away, Shannon spoke several words in a language Cici didn’t recognize. She glanced at Charles, her eyebrows raised, but he merely shrugged and turned his attention back to the corner.
“Norwegian,” Jarod's voice said softly from behind her, and Cici eyed him.
“How do you know?”
“I had to learn it for a sim,” came the curt response, and then Jarod nodded at the two girls on the far side of the room.
Cici looked back in time to see Sofia hesitantly creep closer to Shannon, who put an arm around her and drew her into her lap.
“Mor,” the girl murmured.
“Ja, Sofia,” Shannon responded gently, cradling the twelve-year-old girl, who rested her head again Shannon’s shoulder.
“Sofia called her ‘mother’,” Jarod translated softly, and then Cici caught the questioning glance he shot at her. “Why would Shannon agree with her saying that?”
“Ask her,” the doctor replied, her own common sense telling her that a biological relationship was impossible.
Sofia murmured several almost inaudible words, and Shannon smiled.
“Of course you have to speak English,” she scolded lightly, brushing the long, blond hair out of the girl’s face. “But it doesn’t matter if you make mistakes.”
“R… Raines?” stammered the girl.
“You’re safe from Raines,” Shannon soothed. “These people here have been trying to tell you that for days, but you haven’t listened.”
Sofia’s cheeks flushed red and her head sank. The brunette laughed and leaned forward to lightly brush the young girl’s forehead with her lips.
“It’s all right, Sofia. They aren’t angry. But you mustn’t be afraid of them. They’re the people who took you away from Raines.”
The girl looked up at the group in the doorway, her eyes still anxious, but the sheer terror that had earlier filled them had faded, from which Cici was grateful. Then the doctor realized that Shannon was staring at her and gesturing her to come into the room. She slipped past the Boss and slowly approached the two girls, crouching down on the floor in front of them.
“This is Cici,” Shannon explained, and Sofia gave a tiny smile. “She’s a doctor.”
Sofia nodded, but seemed unsure what to do next. Cici was equally uncertain and so remained silent. It was up to Shannon to offer a suggestion.
“Are you hungry, Sofia? Do you want something to eat?”
The girl’s eyes were childishly eager. “Sjokolade?”
Shannon laughed. “Not chocolate for dinner, but maybe after dinner, if you eat everything. Will you go with Cici and see what you’d like?”
Another unintelligible question was immediately poured out in concerned tones, but Shannon was quick to reassure the frightened girl.
“You can come and see me after dinner. I have to go back bed now, but once you’ve had dinner, then you can come and see me. All right?”
After a brief hesitation, Sofia nodded, gingerly holding out a hand to the doctor, who took it and then straightened up, gently drawing the girl with her. Jarod stepped further into the room and to one side of the door as his father backed into the hallway to get out of their way. As she headed for the door with the anxious child, Cici saw Jarod come over to help Shannon up and heard him say, “You speak Norwegian?”
Shannon grinned, her eyes dancing, as he helped her to her feet. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Two hours later, with Sofia peacefully sleeping on a spare mattress on the floor in Meg’s room, the doctor entered Shannon’s room to find her sitting up in bed, reading a book, which she put to one side as Cici closed the door behind her.
“Why,” Cici asked as she pulled a chair up to the bedside, “did Sofia call you ‘mother’?”
Shannon shot her a look of mock-respect. “I had no idea you spoke Norwegian.”
Cici grinned. “You know full well I don’t. Jarod told me what you were saying. Why did she call you that? And you agreed.”
“That was when we met,” the younger woman explained. “I was simming the role of a mother and she was chosen to be the child. I suppose she might have been about six or seven.” Shannon gave a faint shudder. “It wasn’t a nice sim.”
“Few of them are,” Cici remarked.
Shannon smiled in acknowledgement of the truth of that. Then she looked more closely at Cici and raised an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong?”
The doctor sighed, knowing that the moment had come and was inescapable. Still, she found herself procrastinating again.
“What makes you think anything is?”
“Experience,” Shannon said drily. Then she looked concerned. “Did you find out about something that happened to me while I was at the Centre that’s caused a problem?”
“Not exactly,” Cici replied reluctantly.
“Well, what then?”
Cici sighed again, deeply, her eyes on her hands, before she slowly raised them to meet the blue eyes opposite. For an instant, she wished that Shannon was like normal people, so that she need only give a hint for her to understand the true nature of the situation. Instead, she would have to go into greater detail. Leaning forward, she took Shannon’s right hand in both of hers and held it.
“Something did show up on one of the tests,” she began hesitantly, and saw wariness appear in Shannon’s eyes, “but it wasn’t something that happened as a result of you going to the Centre.”
“Well, what then? Is it serious?”
“It has… long-term repercussions, yes.”
Incomprehension showed on Shannon’s face, but Cici saved her the difficulty of having to say that she didn’t understand by getting out the hard words.
“Prodge, honey, in a few weeks, you’re going to have a baby.”
A long, difficult silence stretched out between them. Finally Shannon spoke, her lips trembling.
“Is… is this like… a joke? Punishment for me going off like that?”
Cecilia moved onto the bed and gently took Shannon’s hand into her lap. “No, Prodge. You know I wouldn’t do something like that. Not something this serious.”
“A… a baby?”
Shannon’s free hand moved to her stomach, and Cici was relieved. It meant that Shannon knew something about reproduction, which would hopefully make the explanations shorter. But then Shannon’s face crumpled and tears swam in her eyes. Cici moved closer and drew the girl into her arms, rocking her as if she was a baby herself.
“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she promised softly. “We’ll help you. We’ll teach you everything you need to know, and we’ll always be here to help. All of us.”
“I don’t want it,” Shannon sobbed in muffled tones.
Cici paused for a moment before speaking. “You don’t want Peter’s baby?”
Shannon froze, and then Cici felt fresh tears soaking her shirt. Charles had told her everything Shannon had said about Peter’s situation, so the doctor knew that he was at least still alive. Nat was trying to find more about what they had done to him, but so far he had had no luck.
“It was just… just playing around,” Shannon gasped. “It didn’t… seem that serious.”
“No, it wouldn’t have,” Cici agreed, stroking the short, dark hair. “And you have more excuse than any other girl your age for not realizing the full implications of what you did. Nobody blames you, honey. It happened, though, and now we need to deal with the consequences of it.” She pulled back and looked into Shannon’s bright blue eyes, still flooded with unshed tears. “I’m afraid it’s too late to get rid of it, but if you really think it’s going to be too hard, we could adopt it out.”
“Peter’s,” Shannon mumbled, her right hand still touching her belly.
“It is, isn’t it?” Cici prompted, and the younger girl nodded dumbly, fixing her eyes on a point directly in front of her.
“Family,” Shannon added after another long silence. Then she looked up at the doctor again. “Just like she promised.”
“Who, honey?”
“The voice. When I was walking. She said I’d have a family one day. She promised.”
Cici could make nothing of this and knew that Shannon was in no state for coherent explanations, so she didn’t press for any, only sliding an arm around the girl’s shoulders and sitting next to her on the bed in silence.
Shannon
Shannon stared out of the window at where the moon shone in through the window, casting its silvery light into the room. Her hand still rested on her belly and her mind fought to come to terms with what she had been told.
A baby.
It explained a lot of things, of course. She had become slightly fatter recently, her pants and skirts not fitting as well as they had before, which she had attributed to an increased desire for certain foods, usually those she was aware were higher in fat and fiber. Occasionally she’d had feelings of slight discomfort in her stomach, which Cici told her might have been the baby moving. She remembered her lack of appetite the night after Jarod had been rescued and wondered if that had also had something to do with it.
But none of that made it more real.
Cici had left a book showing the development of a baby in her stomach, but Shannon had found it difficult to believe that something like that could be growing inside her. The doctor had said that most women felt the same way when they found out they were pregnant. The only real difference was that they had longer to come to terms with the fact than she did.
Two weeks. It was no time at all, really. One day of that time was already over, and, realizing that fact, she felt her eyes fill with tears again, but she resolutely drove them away. She had done enough crying, and besides, the behaviour was so foreign to her that it only made her feel worse.
Something moved inside her, and she felt herself smile mistily, through half-swallowed tears. It was a familiar feeling, but now, for the first time, she knew what it was.
The pressure terrified her. She had never had the chance to be a child. What would it feel like to have a child of her own? Would she know what to do? Could she be a good mother? These and other questions whirled around in her mind and pressure throbbed across her forehead.
The door opening was a relief, providing something that would turn her thoughts away from her current predicament, and she recognized Jarod's form silhouetted in the doorway, even as she reached over to turn on the lights.
“Don’t let me disturb you.”
Shannon smiled as she settled back against the pillows. “I’m glad to have something else to think about, to be honest.” She watched as he brought a chair up to the bedside. “What’s up?”
“Can’t sleep,” he admitted.
“Nightmares,” she said knowingly, watching as he nodded.
“You have them, too?”
“They get better, eventually. It takes time, though. The guilt and anger lasts for a long time, longer than really seems fair.”
“It’s not our fault.”
“That’s why it’s not fair.” She smiled slightly. “And we can’t even take our feelings out on those who really are to blame. It’s pretty frustrating, actually.”
A faint smile flexed the dimples on his cheeks. “I’ll take your word for it. I don’t think I’ve got to that stage yet.”
“Have you called Sydney again?”
Jarod's head tilted slightly to one side. “Were you listening, or do you just know everything that happens in this place, even when you’re asleep?”
She chuckled. “I remember, Jarod, that’s why. It was only about a year ago that I got out. And, although I never had the urge to call up Raines and ask how the ghoul was doing, I can see how you might have felt that way.” Shannon resettled herself in the bed and then looked up at him expectantly. “So what did you come in to talk to me about? It must have been something important, ‘cause most people are asleep at this hour.”
“Actually,” he paused before continuing, “this is going to sound strange.”
“I’m fully expecting it to,” she teased. “Don’t forget that I’ve had six months with Josh, and that was pretty good preparation for meeting you.”
He grinned. “Training, you mean.”
“Exactly.”
“Tell me about him later,” Jarod pleaded. “But for now, can I tell you why I came in?”
“Go for it.”
Jarod sighed. “I’m used to talking sims over with Sydney once I think I’ve got answers, but I’m a little nervous about asking anyone else to listen and I – there’s not a lot here.”
“Whatever it is, Jarod, it’s real life, not a sim. You don’t get all the answers in life. You have to find them for yourself.”
“I know,” he agreed. “But… will you just listen?”
“Sure.”
“Great.” He flashed her another grin and quickly left the room.
Shannon barely had time to shuffle over to the far side of the bed so that he had space on which to put things before he returned with a pile of papers and Nat’s laptop.
“Nat’s not going to be happy about that,” she said, tapping the machine.
“He said I could use it whenever he wasn’t.”
Shannon’s eyebrows shot up. “How much are you paying him, Jarod? I’ve never heard him say that to anyone!”
Jarod merely shrugged and looked back at the papers he had brought in. Shannon guessed that he had slipped, perhaps inadvertently, into his working mode, and fell silent so as to let him get on with what he wanted to tell her.
He pulled out the plastic envelope containing the sheet of paper and held it up. “Cici told us that she found this in your pocket, instead of in the bundle of papers. Where did you find it? In the archives?”
“No.” Her tone was as serious as his. “When I got back to my room, I was packing stuff up to get out of there. I’d just about finished when I saw it on the floor in front of the air vent cover. I’m sure it hadn’t been there a moment before, so I’m guessing Angelo shoved it through the cover for me.” She looked up to meet his eye. “It was important?”
“I think so.”
He gave her a brief run-down of the details found in the first file, and she furrowed her brow at the mention of the scrolls, trying to remember whether she had ever heard them mentioned. When he was finished, he asked her directly about them, but she was forced to shake her head.
“I’m sorry, Jarod, but I really don’t think I’ve ever heard of them before.”
His face fell slightly, but she guessed that he had doubted whether she really knew anything, so it probably wasn’t a massive disappointment.
“Can you turn on the overhead light?” she asked, squinting at the papers beside her. “I can’t see things well enough with just the lamp.”
Jarod obligingly jumped up from his chair to do so, and Shannon pulled the closest pile of papers over to her, flipping through them. As the light went on, a photo caught her eye, and she halted in her search, going back to find the relevant sheet.
Pulling it out, she placed it flat on her lap, gazing down at the faces in it. She recognized the first from a photo Charles carried in his wallet, and had once shown her. She looked up at Jarod, who had just returned to his chair, and smiled.
“This is your mother?”
“Yes,” he agreed, and she saw his expression soften.
“She’s very pretty.”
He nodded. “Mmm.”
Shannon switched her attention from Margaret to the other woman in the photo, and something like recognition tugged at her. She seemed to have locked eyes with the woman and felt warmth flow through her, similar to the way she had felt while being comforted by Charles earlier that day. With an effort, she pulled her eyes away and looked up at Jarod, her voice soft.
“What else was there?”
“Nothing,” he admitted. “That’s the problem. I can’t figure it out.”
Understanding something of his feelings of frustration, she reached out and placed a hand on his. “Jarod, you’re allowed not to know the answers sometimes. You don’t have enough to work with here, that’s all. This isn’t a sim. The answers aren’t necessarily here.”
“I could have done with you sometimes at the Centre,” he replied, half-smiling.
She returned the smile and then looked down once more at the papers, putting the photo to one side and flipping through the pile again. Then she picked up the torn sheet and settled against the pillows to have another look at the numbers.
Something caught her eye, and she held the sheet up to the light. Then she saw the image in the background, somehow printed on the paper beneath the typing.
“What’s this?”
Jarod looked up sharply. “What’s what?”
“This drawing.” She turned around and held the page up in front of the light cast by the lamp. “It’s – I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it!”
“Skulls,” he offered, taking the paper from her and holding it at an angle that allowed him to see it properly. “An octagonal symbol, with eight skulls and this triangle thing.” He shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye. “I thought you said the answers weren’t there.”
“Necessarily,” she added quickly. “Not necessarily there.”
“Maybe they are,” he murmured, gazing at the symbol. “I’ve seen something like this, or at least a part of it. But where?”
Silence extended for several minutes, while Shannon watched Jarod think. Strangely, she, too, had the idea that she had seen something similar quite recently. He met her gaze and suddenly both lunged for the photo, which was lying on the bedclothes.
“Nat’s case,” Shannon burst out excitedly. “He always takes a magnifying glass around with him.”
Jarod was out of the room a bare moment and returned with the object in his hand, which he held over the photo. They could both see the symbol, hidden by ivy, and Jarod left Shannon staring at it while he opened the computer and brought up the photo. Within a few minutes, he had isolated and enlarged the image so that it was more visible. Then he was able to remove the green ivy strands, which left them with several skulls and part of the central triangle. As a final step, he uploaded the picture to a program Nat had designed that searched the Centre’s mainframe.
The search took a minute – one of the longest minutes, Shannon guessed, of Jarod's life. He was clearly obsessed by the idea that there was a grand plan of which nobody here had, as yet, any idea. She could understand that. It might explain why her life had been created in the first place, and that was something she wanted to know. Had she been intended to be someone’s child, to be loved, or had she been created simply to work for the Centre? It was an agonizing question.
When the computer beeped, they were both already leaning over it. Only one file appeared on the list of results, and Jarod glanced at Shannon before moving the mouse over it and clicking on the file name.
The machine gave a loud, high-pitched beep that seemed to echo through the entire house. Then the screen was filled with lines of data that quickly scrolled upwards. Something passed over them and the words instantly became meaningless gibberish.
“Jarod?” Charles’ voice demanded from the doorway. “Shannon? What’s going on?”
“Encrypted,” Jarod said in disappointment, before meeting Shannon’s eye. “Did you get anything? Anything at all?”
“Only one word, and I’m not even sure of it,” she admitted. “I thought it said Carthis. You?”
“Vespusian, whatever that might be.”
“Jarod?” Charles asked again, his voice firm as he stepped into the room. “Shannon? Will one of you tell us what’s going on?”
