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The Truth Hurts
Part 27

by paula h and Pretndermp




Disclaimer in part 1.



Miss Parker continued to stare at her office door for well over a minute after Margaret walked out. That woman wanted her to announce her pregnancy? Yeah, right. Let's just get on the P.A. system and broadcast it. "Miss Parker would like to announce a forthcoming addition to the happy little Parker family. The illegitimate son of our favorite pretender and his mistress will be making his home on some disgusting sub-level shortly after birth, never to see daylight again. The baby shower will be held in Renewal Wing where the mommy will be living because she's about to have a nervous breakdown." She burst into tears.


Parker sobbed into her hands for a couple of minutes. She had almost stopped when the thought of Jarod never even knowing his son hit her and she fell apart again. It took her a few more minutes to cut the tears and keep herself to sniffles and an occasional sob. God, she thought, please don't let anybody walk in here now. She spun her chair around and stared out the window at the sky, willing herself to calm down. She blanked her mind and focused on the flower arrangement she had moved to the window, and the way the air circulating through the room almost imperceptibly moved its petals.

After ten minutes or so Parker felt composed enough to go into her private restroom. A splash of cold water on her face helped, and makeup repair covered the red nose and puffy eyes. Once she was satisfied with her ice queen mask she went back to her desk and buzzed the receptionist. She ordered green tea with honey when what she wanted was a shot of single-malt. What she really wanted was a time machine so she could go back and shoot Margaret at St. Gilleabart's rectory, before Jarod got in the way.

Parker decided to blame her loss of control on raging hormones. In a happier time she had told Jarod to be careful of them, now she needed to remember they added to her weakness. This pregnancy that Margaret wanted her to publicize was the chink in her armor of coolness. That the witch had probably been waiting for something like this for years, something to use against her, to control her. God, why did she have to go and fall in love with Jarod? And worst of all, get pregnant? Why?

The receptionist, with her tea, interrupted Parker's moment of self-pity. Parker felt such guilt at her thoughts that she barely mumbled an acknowledgement. She put a hand gently to her stomach. How could she even think that? She loved Cameron, as much as she loved his father. Her eyes filled with tears once more but she managed to blink them back. "I'm so sorry, Sweetheart, I didn't mean it," she whispered. "I never meant to bring you here."

Parker rested her forehead on the heel of her hand and closed her eyes. Well, they were here, whether she wanted it or not. If she was going to keep them together she had to bide her time and obey Margaret. She could not bring herself to announce her pregnancy like it was a Centre victory, so the only option was to leak the news and let it spread through the grapevine. Such a juicy tidbit would move like wildfire. Now, who to tell first?

Who else but the man with his ear permanently attached to the aforementioned grapevine? Broots. Parker dialed his extension. When he answered she said three words, "Get up here," and hung up. He would know who it was and she did not want to answer any questions over the phone. She used the five minutes it took Broots to scurry up the Tower, to steel herself so she could get through the meeting without tears.

Parker's summons surprised Broots. He could not think of anything he had done wrong. He had made her mad yesterday but if she were going to shoot him she would have done it then. He was so lost in thought he hardly noticed the dial tone of the phone still held in his hand. He finally came to himself, jumped up and nearly cracked his head on his desk when he caught his foot on his chair. He started running.

Broots skidded to a halt in front of the Tower elevator and caught his breath while he waited for it to come down. When the elevator door opened, Sam got out. The curious and challenging look he gave Broots nearly made the techie choke. He rushed into the elevator and pushed the button. Sam stared at him until the doors closed and he could breathe again.

The receptionist greeted Broots warmly; he had been nice to her when she first started working for The Centre as a gofer of sorts. That put a smile on Broots' face. It disappeared the second he walked through Miss Parker's door.

"Y.. you need something, Miss Parker?"

"A Bloody Mary, I need the Vitamin C. But we all want things we can't have don't
we?"

"I can get you the drink, or Missy can."

"Missy?"

"Your receptionist..."

"Yes, right. Well, what I really need from you is the name of the biggest rumormonger in this place."

"Did someone say something about you?" he asked with indignation.

Parker almost laughed. He was still willing to defend her; what had she ever done to deserve that? "No, Broots, no rumors I've heard." She continued to smile. "You know all the best gossip. Where do you get it and who would you tell if you wanted news to spread?"

Well, there's Les in Couriers, he reads, er, hears everything. You know him; he's the one that got his ear bit off by the dolphin two years ago. Now he sorta turns his head so the ear he still has..."

"Broots! What is it about you that attracts the deformed? I don't care if he has three ears, as long as his tongue works. I need you to subtly - if that's possible for you - tell him something. I need it to spread and I don't want headlines just whispers." Parker pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. Crying had given her a headache.

Broots sat down in one of Parker's chairs. He stared down at the hands he clutched desperately in his lap. Could it be good that Miss Parker wanted gossip leaking out into the Centre? Oh, well, he thought, might as well dive in to the deep end with both feet like he always did with her. Looking up he said, "Right. Ahh, what do you want me to tell him?"

Parker squeezed her eyes tightly shut then opened them again. Her head really was hurting. Broots hadn't missed it either. When she looked over at him, she saw that his curiosity was now tempered by concern.

"Well, it seems the Ice Queen does occasionally get hot and bothered, and this time it was one time too many. I'm pregnant."

Broots' jaw dropped so suddenly he felt a slight pull on the right side of his face. Miss Parker, pregnant? As in having a child pregnant? It couldn't be, could it? A million questions ran through his mind as he bit his tongue to keep from asking them. Questions like who, when, how...well, okay, Broots, my boy, he reminded himself, you know how, but who and when, yeah, that's sort of...then he knew. Broots wasn't sure how he could be so certain, but he knew who the father of Miss Parker's child was, and he knew that somehow that was why she'd come back here. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn't yelling at him to snap to or say something, maybe it was the way she kept looking down at the floor as if she hoped a trap door would magically open so she could escape. Maybe it was both.

"Wow," he finally said, "Debbie's gonna be pretty excited about that."

Parker brought her eyes up from the random spot on the floor that held her attention so completely and looked over at Broots. Sometimes he was such a revelation. He could always be counted on to say exactly the wrong thing or ask precisely the wrong question, except, of course, when he said the most absolutely right thing in the world.

"Broots," Parker said, chuckling slightly, "what a perfectly normal response."

He was proud of himself, though he fought not to show it. He could always tell when he'd surprised her, and this was one of those times. It was hard keeping his questions at bay, but he sensed that right now, that's what he should do, so he just stood up and smiled.

"You sure you want people talking about this? You hate it when people discuss you behind your back."

"They're going to do it anyway, and I'd rather be the one to put the information into the channel," she lied. "Just make sure they know that behind my back is where the talk better stay."

"Les is definitely your man. I'll go grab his good ear and let the cat out of the bag. And I promise, whispers only. I'll tell him you've started carrying an extra gun and are prone to big hormonally induced rages."

"Why don't you make something up instead?"

Broots couldn't hold back his laugh at that one. Whatever had brought Miss Parker back here, it hadn't killed her spirit. Not yet.

"I'll see what I can come up with."

Turning, Broots headed over to the office doors. He was just about to step outside when he turned back and looked at her again.

"Oh, Miss Parker?"

She responded only by raising an eyebrow and looking toward him.

"Congratulations."



Jarod woke. He stared at the recessed ceiling light, trying to get his bearings. The past was a blur. His head felt like it was overstuffed with cotton when he turned it slightly to the side. He was not alone. Someone was sitting on a chair in what he somehow identified as his new rooms. Slowly he remembered where he was, back at The Centre. Was that Sydney?

He was about to ask when he realized that he had thought "back" as in he remembered escaping. He remembered being captured by...his mother. He tried to sit up too fast and groaned. He looked at the form in the chair again and concentrated. "Mother?"

"You need to call me 'Miss Abbott' now," came the soft reply.

He tried to sit again. His head did not want to leave the pillow.

"Take your time, Jarod, I cleared my calendar for the day."

"Big of you," he mumbled. He rolled onto his side and propped himself with his arm. Slowly he managed to sit erect. His head still weighed too much to raise it. "What happened? Did I develop a tolerance for the drugs too?"

"No, the drugs work."

"Then why do I have the misfortune of remembering who you are?"

"Careful, Jarod, I could change my mind," she replied without malice.

Jarod scowled at her by way of comment.

Margaret continued, "You gave me the excuse I wanted. You said you had evidence on Lyle, and that is something I can use."

"So, after I give you the information, then you wipe my memory?"

"Perhaps," she paused, "perhaps not. It depends on your behavior. The drugs are still there and still work." She paused again and put on a smile. "However, I can see that your outside experience has made a difference in you. I'm curious to see if you're able to use that powerful mind of yours for more than making The Centre money. Call it an experiment if you like. If you behave and prove yourself I'll allow you to have more freedom."

Jarod looked at her from under his brows. "Will I notice this change?"

Margaret's smile broadened. "Not for a bit."

"Then what's the difference to me? The joy of our newfound relationship?"

"I hear that you appreciate my power for what it can do for you. Eventually you might have some small share of that power."

"So if I do all the pretends you throw at me I might get to see daylight, maybe even get my own little garden on the roof."

"More than that. After Miss Parker is firmly in place here, my presence will no longer be necessary..."

Jarod interrupted, "I thought Miss Parker was your golden child." Anger was still evident in his voice.

"Don't be jealous, Jarod. When she neither needs nor tolerates my assistance, I'll return to Britain. You'll come with me."

"What if she wants me to stay here?" She had given him a glimmer of hope.

"By then she won't want you either, Jarod." Margaret assured him.

Jarod's head snapped up in recognition of her certainty. "That's the truth isn't it?"

"Yes, The Centre is her destiny. You are both bound by your destinies. If you finally recognize it, I approve."

"I'm not sure I want your approval, or your half-promises."

"But you'd love to have my power right now, wouldn't you?"

He smiled daggers at her.

She laughed shortly. "Yes, you would love it. I know what you'd do with it too. Don't worry. You don't need to love me, just obey me. I think you can do that with proper incentive."

"Was this whole production staged to give me incentive?" His voice quavered as he spoke. He put a hand to his head.

"It was a demonstration." Margaret changed subjects briefly. "There's pain medication on the bedside table. Take it. I've been told you should also drink plenty of water." She waited until Jarod took the pills, and returned to their conversation. "To tell the truth," she paused and smiled her best smile. "I really didn't decide not to eradicate your memories until the last second." The smile disappeared, "Don't make me regret it."

Jarod sighed. He wondered if the drug made him less willing to argue. "Now what?"

"Now I will order us late lunch and we will have a civil conversation. Afterwards, we'll go to the workroom and you'll show me the information that saved your memories. If it's good enough, I'll put it to use and we'll come to an agreement on how you'll behave in the future."

"Do I have any say in this at all?"

"You're lucky you have the ability to even ask that question."

"Just get me coffee." Jarod lay back on the bed and put his arm over his eyes.

Margaret called for chicken noodle soup and salads; they arrived shortly. She walked to Jarod's bed and gently shook his arm. He startled and for a second he imagined it was all a dream. She was so beautiful, his mother, and she looked at him with love, real affection. No, his vision cleared; then pain returned to his head and heart. She was the reason he was here and he wanted no part of her lies.

Jarod rose from the bed smoothly, his headache fading slightly. Margaret backed away, then turned and took her place at the table. She picked up a delicate cup of tea. Jarod raised his mug of coffee and gulped it down.

Margaret filled Jarod in on the background of the Hong Kong business. He smiled appreciatively at her strategy. He was pleased that the original suspects were cleared. He was not pleased to learn that the three bankers to blame were missing. Lyle had almost solved his riddle.

"You shouldn't point fingers, Jarod, your outside pretends have been bold to the point of overconfidence. Your retributions always stopped just short of death, but you can't say they stopped short of violence."

"It was justified."

"You can rationalize anything you want to. Care to tell me how you justified stealing organs, in a filthy motel room, from a live and unwilling convict?"

Their dialogue continued along the same lines for a while. Jarod briefly forgot how much he hated this woman and enjoyed conversing with someone who knew his whole story.

Margaret also enjoyed their lunch and their conversation. She was almost loath to stop. After Jarod's third cup of coffee, reality returned. "We have business; let's get to a computer."

"It would be easier if you put one in here."

"Yes, far too easy. I think your computer usage needs monitoring at the very least. I prefer that Centre funds, and you, stay where you are now."

Jarod smiled slightly. They moved to the workroom where he had met with Sydney. A computer was installed on the worktable and switched on. Jarod sat in front of it and punched a few keys. "Okay, now for the bad news. I don't have the promised information on Lyle."

Margaret frowned. "You lied to me?"

Jarod laughed aloud. "Excuse me? Who lied more?"

Margaret sighed. "Did you lie?"

"No, I found the evidence. It will take me a while to reassemble it and deliver it to you."

Is there a timetable on that?"

"It will take weeks to a month."

Margaret gave Jarod a doubtful look.

Jarod ducked his head. "I'm not dogging it. I took me a lot longer to put it all together the first time. Honestly. Umm, I may need to make a phone call or two and have things mailed to me."

"I'll set up a P.O. box in Dover. I examine any packages before you see them. Any conversations will be monitored and made in my presence. Anything else you need?"

"No."

"Now for your conduct rules. You will address me as 'Miss Abbot. You will not acknowledge our relationship. You will obey me."

Jarod lifted an eyebrow.

"Several people know your memory was to be eradicated today. I want everyone to think it was. Buchan will fill you in on the cover story. Can you pretend?"

"Yes." Jarod simmed the repercussions of that pretense.

"If you can work with Sydney, within those parameters, I will allow it."

"If not, who gets me? Raines?"

"Raines won't be here much longer. That's your first assignment. You told me you had enough financial information on him to put the Triumvirate at his throat. How long for you to access it?"

"Two days max. Um...it's not necessarily all about him, but if you want, I can make it look that way." He looked at her knowingly, "Anyone in power has fiscal skeletons.

Margaret chuckled. "I think I should monitor you very closely. I think Mr. Raines' real 'sins' will do for now."

Jarod nodded.

"As to who would replace Sydney, I don't think any of the other psychologists here are up to dealing with you."

"I don't know if I can keep up the farce with Sydney. I'd rather not."

"Then I'll take over."

Jarod was not surprised. "Fine." Keep your enemies closer. "What will happen to him?"

"Sydney is still valuable, despite the indiscretions that resulted from his attachment to you. Miss Parker feels close to him and, although I want them kept apart, I don't think it's advantageous to completely eradicate her past."

"Just my part of it," he grumbled.

"For the record, that was Miss Parker's decision, and we will no longer discuss her. Distance will soothe your hurt. This leads me to a few other rules. You will not seek out Miss Parker. If you should 'run into' her you will pretend that you have not seen her since she worked in Corporate. That would have been part of your wipe. You will speak to her like a stranger."

"You're not going to tell her the truth?" That was interesting.

"Not for the moment and neither will you. That decision was made. Leave it be."

"Or?"

"Jarod, you know the 'or.' Do not make me repeat myself."

"Fine. Anything else?" He pushed away from the computer.

Margaret sighed her exasperation. "Extend the rules to the fetus. You will not know the child is yours. Remember, if you aren't up to pretending on a long-term basis I can make it real."

Jarod did not argue with the finality of that statement. He nodded, and looked at the floor. He hated this; his whole life under Centre rule. Now the mother he searched for after he liberated himself was telling him his best prospect was being her leashed pet. He had to find some other way to get out from under. "Can this wait till tomorrow? I still feel hung-over."

"Yes, but it can't wait long. I want a commitment from you. And I want Raines gone." Margaret rose and left the room.

"There's the one thing we agree on," Jarod mumbled. A sweeper came in and
escorted him back to his rooms.




It was mid-afternoon when Margaret left Jarod. The day was still young enough to take care of a little more business before she returned to her office.

Sydney was concentrating on analysis of a group of sub-auditory sound stimulus reactions when he got an unannounced visitor. He looked over his reading glasses, saw who it was and braced himself for more bad news. "Miss Abbott," he acknowledged her presence.

"I appreciate your using the correct name, Doctor, and I appreciate the care you have given my son over the years."

"I was under the impression that you did not want Jarod to be referred to as such."

"I don't, but you are one of the few who know the relationship."

"Here it is seldom safe to know unwanted secrets."

"You know a good many of them, so one more will have little impact to your survival prospects."

"Which are?"

"Good, as long as you follow the rules. I hear you don't feel that Jarod wants to work with you now."

"He did not seem interested in continuing our relationship, but I got ...the impression that you intend to change that."

"Jarod's memory has been wiped," Margaret announced blandly. "I replaced the last six months with memories of working with me while you were out of the country. The rest is a blank supposedly caused by illness. He will be comfortable working with me, but I came to offer you another chance at him."

Sydney took the information in stride "And if I decline, what happens?"

"You will be reassigned, and continue your research projects at another Centre facility away from here."

"Considering ...circumstances here, I think that might be best."

"I agree."

"How long before I have to leave?"

"I'll allow you two weeks to finish up any projects that won't travel well. After that you will be persona non grata here, do you understand?"

"Quite well."

"Good. I'll tell..."

Just then Broots rushed into the room, practically yelling. "Hey, Syd, wait till you hear." Margaret and Sydney both jumped. Broots smile disappeared when he realized who was in the room. He stopped dead. "Oh, oh my, I didn't know...I'm sorry, I have something to tell Sydney. But, but I'll come back. It's sorta neat, but I'll come back later. No big deal. Excuse me." He backed toward the door as quickly as he had entered.

"Broots I believe, stay; I'm leaving," she said without anger. She returned her gaze to Sydney. "You will both be given your new assignments within a few days."

Broots watched her leave, mouth agape, and then her words sank in. "Assignments?"

"I believe you will need a moving van in the near future. Now, it sounded like you had good news and I could use some. Come, tell me."



Margaret took the Tower elevator. She wondered if she could gauge Miss Parker's response to the news by Sydney's non-reaction. One could hope.

Margaret intended to go to Miss Parker's office immediately, but the receptionist signaled her as soon as she walked into the suite. The girl was desperately trying to handle a call from Paris. Her French was reasonably adequate but the caller was indignant, yelling at top speed, and demanding to speak with Miss Abbott. The caller's voice went down several decibels as soon as Margaret told the receptionist to transfer the call to her office.

Margaret recognized the caller mid-way through his first sentence. He recognized her and calmed appreciably. The rest of the conversation revolved around Raines suddenly changing his schedule and canceling several meetings. The caller and his influential friends had lost some of their own money with The Centre's. Margaret placated him, assured him that the money would be recovered and moved him on to small talk and a commitment for more business.

All that took a while. By the time the call ended Margaret knew Parker would be preparing to leave for the day. She did not want a scene at the compound. She dismissed the receptionist and knocked on Parker's door.

Parker looked up from a profit statement that she was reading for the third time - her powers of concentration had deserted her hours ago - and motioned the older woman in.

Margaret considered starting with small talk or mentioning her brief meeting with Sydney and Broots, but discarded both ideas. She got directly to the point. "Jarod's memory is wiped. It went quite well. He did not fight or whine; he took it like a man.

"His memories of the past six to eight months have been replaced with memories of working with me. Sydney's absence from his life was explained by a prestigious teaching opportunity in Austria. The past few years beyond that were simply blanked. This was explained by telling him he contracted viral encephalitis of some sort. The doctors will give him a plausible medical history and show him DSAs to reinforce the story.

"He has no memory of you working here, except for Corporate, and no memory of interaction after you were children. I want it kept that way."

Parker nodded numbly. Suddenly she felt nauseated; she was glad she hadn't eaten since early in the morning. She just wanted Margaret to leave.

Margaret watched her protégé closely. Parker remained calm, and that pleased her. Every day the younger woman's behavior improved, but she seemed stressed. That was certainly understandable. She looked somehow drawn or thin, not exactly sick but not well either. Margaret decided it was enough for the day and did not ask Parker if she had followed her orders concerning a pregnancy announcement. "It's time to pack up and go home, Miss Parker. Tomorrow is another day."

Parker did not reply. She was not going home and another day of this was more than she could contemplate at the moment. She bent over to reach for her briefcase and the nausea hit her in the stomach like a brick. "I'm not taking work home today, Margaret," Parker said as she left her desk and practically ran for the door.

Margaret had seen the green cast come over Miss Parker's face. She did not reprimand her for calling her by her given name and made no move to hold her in the room. Pregnancy with the future prince allowed for a certain leeway. Margaret took her time returning to her office and ending her workday.




Miss Parker did not quite make it to fresh air. She had to stop in a first floor restroom and retch for a few minutes. She splashed cold water on her face for the second time in the day, and exited to Sam's concerned expression. "I'm fine, Sam, nothing for you to worry about. You'll see."

Sam nodded, unconvinced, and escorted her to the town car and driver Margaret had assigned her.

In some ways Parker would be glad when the story had spread through The Centre. One less lie; she was so tired of lies. She rode back to Margaret's compound with the window open. The crisp air eased her nausea and numbed her nose. It seemed to numb her mind as well.

It was impossible to even think about supper, but, to Parker's surprise, Margaret had tea and dry toast sent to her room, and allowed her to eat alone in her room. After supper she took a short walk in the dark frosted garden and felt a touch better. She sat on a small wooden bench and admired the clear night sky and the shape of a leafless crabapple tree. She returned to her room to find a cup of clear broth that she felt she could keep down. She took the calcium antacids, took a long hot bath and went to bed.




As Margaret had predicted, William Raines strode into The Centre's front lobby two days after the news of Miss Parker's return "leaked" its way to Switzerland. The fact that he had chartered a non-Centre aircraft for the trip home made it all the more ill omened.

Mr. Raines touched down in Blue Cove shortly before 8 o'clock in the evening. The Centre support group, evening shift scrambled to stay out of sight and still observe the scene. Buchan had designated at least one person per shift to call him the second anything possibly important happened there. The call came at 8:19; Buchan was knocking on Margaret's door at 8:20. He did not wait for Margaret to answer.

Margaret was in front if her dressing table, wearing her robe and a frown. "I don't recall asking you to come here or giving permission to enter."

Buchan was not overly worried; any punishment would be meted out later when his mistress needed to relax a bit. He broke the news that brought him, "Raines is back."

Margaret was up from her chair in a flash. "What the hell do you mean 'He's back?'" she shouted in his face.

Buchan winced. He was not normally afraid of Margaret, unless she was enraged. He decided she was, and it was best to back away slowly. "I was just told that he walked into The Centre."

Margaret spun around and started pacing around the room; her hands were balled into fists that she swung up as though she might hit someone. "How did he get out of Zurich let alone back into the country without your knowing?"

"I was aware of his departure from Zurich. He had a dinner meeting in Berlin, Centre business, with a German client. Somewhere en route he must have changed cars and a look-alike kept the appointment."

Margaret stopped in her tracks and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"We were keeping tabs on him. I got confirmation of Raines arrival in Berlin and was told his whereabouts at all times. According to our agents he's on his way back to Zurich. Unfortunately it's the double. And now the real Mr. Raines is here."

"You know I hate foul-ups, Buchan."

"Yes, ma'am, I do know."

"I want the doppelganger and your spies questioned. I want to know if any of them were paid off or in on some plan. And then I want them taken care of."

"I'll do what's appropriate." He mumbled. He waited for her to verbally rip his head off for dodging the full intent of her order; one of the agents in Berlin was a trusted friend.

Margaret did not notice the evasion; she had other things on her mind. She had to get between Raines and the others. If he did anything to Miss Parker all was lost. If he got Jarod to spill the truth she was on shaky ground. If he allied with the Chairman, she was as good as dead. She looked at her near panicked face in her mirror and instantly came to a stop. This would not do. She turned to Buchan who still stood by the door. "Get the car. Five minutes. Where's Miss Parker?"

"In her rooms."

"Keep this quiet." Margaret put on a smile. "She needs her rest. Now get out."

Buchan nodded with a soft grunt and exited the room. He felt as though he had dodged a bullet but the gun was still loaded.




Mr. Raines' arrival was unannounced but not unnoticed. His expression was so much the antithesis of friendliness that it sent a wave of unease before it and left total silence in its wake. He appeared a man on a mission, stopping briefly in his office and then going straight to the sublevel elevator, and Jarod.

Jarod was happily oblivious of the arrival until his door opened. He jumped up off his bed, startled from dozing over a thick and uninteresting file. The face in the doorway startled him even more; he backed away involuntarily. Why hadn't his mother warned him? Then he saw the anger on Raines' face and knew she was going to be as surprised as he was. Okay, time to dredge up how to behave with Raines.

"Mr. Raines," a greeting almost a question.

"Jarod," Raines' slithery smooth voice and smile hid the antagonism in his eyes. He stepped into the room. Willie filled the doorway.

Jarod noted Willie and retreated appropriately.

"Don't be afraid, Jarod," Raines cooed, "I just wanted to see for myself that you're back."

"Back?" Jarod portrayed total confusion.

"Home, in The Centre." Now Raines was confused.

"Sydney said the same thing. I don't understand. I was never gone."

Raines did not speak for a second; his forehead furrowed while he came to the realization that Jarod's memory might have been wiped again. "What's the last thing you remember before this week?"

"Working. The same thing I've always done... Why does everyone ask me that?"

"So you remember working with Sydney two months ago?"

"No, Sydney was in Europe on sabbatical for the last six months and I've been sick." Jarod added to his story. "But you know that, don't you? You made me sick... I forgot...you were experimenting with a vaccine and it didn't work." He feigned returning memories, "and you gave me the encephalitis!" he accused.

"Encephalitis?"

"You cost me the last five years of my memory. Can The Centre take any more from me?" Jarod had little problem bringing forth near-hysterical anger. "What else do you want?"

"Calm down, Jarod." Raines held up his hands. "So, you're saying that you lost your memories?"

"What are you planning to do to me now?"

"Nothing!" a voice boomed from the doorway as Mr. Parker shouldered past Willie. "Raines, get out of here. The man's been sick." Mr. Parker nodded his head toward the door.

Mr. Raines refocused on his cohort. "And your daughter?"

"Is where she belongs, at home after a day in her office," Parker said
emphatically, "and we need to talk."

"Obviously." Raines looked at Jarod analytically. "So Sydney's been away and you've been working with me?"

"Not till the experiment." Jarod shook his head emphatically. "I've been working with Miss Abbott." Jarod smiled honestly. Inside he was rolling with laughter, waiting for the reaction.

It was as good as expected. Raines' mouth dropped open. "With Margaret?" he breathed. He looked quickly back and forth between Jarod and Mr. Parker.

"Not now, Raines!" Mr. Parker grabbed the other man's arm and pushed him toward the door.

"All right, all right, I'm going" Raines pushed Parker's hand away but moved out of the room. He glanced around one more time before leaving. "I'll be in my office."


Mr. Parker pulled out the same device he had used the day of Jarod's return. Surveillance was blocked. Jarod smiled. The elder man studied the younger for a moment. Jarod's smile broadened.

"His arrival was a surprise. I promised to keep him away; I'm sorry. I'll deal with him."

"Centre promises." Jarod's smile faded. The two continued to study each other.

Mr. Parker walked to the open door. He looked up and down the empty hall; then returned to Jarod. "We're alone. I want to know what really happened."

"My memory was wiped by a virus." Jarod answered simply.

Mr. Parker growled in frustration and turned away. His hands became fists that he brought down on his own legs.

"...or my mother." Jarod saw an opportunity to play; his smile almost returned.

Mr. Parker spun around, his surprise quickly changing to calculation. "This 'virus' would keep you here without any contact from your family?"

"Yes," neutrally.

"And this is why Sydney's upset? He feels he can no longer work with you."

"My heart goes out to him," said with insincerity. "Where is she sending him?"

"Where am I sending him? Contrary to what your mother wants everyone to believe, she is still not in control. New York of Chicago probably, I'm not sending him very far. I want him available if my daughter needs him. Broots has been reassigned as his research assistant."

"Broots too? Miss Abbott is doing a good job of separating her from her support system."

"Yes, and I'm sure I'm next."

"Going without a fight?" Jarod asked with a smile.

"Are you? Mr. Parker returned the question.

Jarod gauged how much he should trust the other man and how much he could push. "What are you offering?"

One side of Mr. Parker's mouth went up in a half grin. "I thought you didn't believe my promises?"


Jarod's smile broadened and became evil. "For the sake of argument let's pretend to believe each other."

"Very well. What if I offer you your freedom?"

Jarod nearly choked. It was an offer he never expected. He wrapped his mind around it and looked for the catch. "Define freedom."

Mr. Parker watched Jarod's shock turn to a healthy level of suspicion. "You can walk out the door and never come back."

"And your daughter?"

"I believe she's made her decision."

"There are other considerations."

"Your child, yes, I know about it. I would have preferred that one of its parents told me rather than Margaret's pulling it out of her sleeve, but I know."

"Not 'it', 'he.' I'm surprised there wasn't an announcement."

"It's a boy?" Mr. Parker was pleased. "No, she hasn't made it public, but one of my people informed me that the rumor's spreading."

"I think you'll understand that I'm less than thrilled to have my son relive my wonderful life."

"He won't." The future grandfather sighed. "You know, Jarod, that you and my daughter were destined for each other. All I ever wanted was to allow you two to find each other, in here or outside, and convince my Angel that this was where she belonged."

"Happy ever after. And where did you see me in this fairytale?"

"Beside her, maybe a step behind. I had hoped you would come to appreciate what The Centre can do for the world and possibly even participate."

Jarod huffed.

"Your son will eventually take the reigns of The Centre, not live in its depths."

"What about your sons?"

"My youngest is being quietly cared for, far from here. And my other son," his voice deepened, "might be ...dangerous if allowed free rein."

"Do you know how dangerous he really is?"

"I know what I need to know about him, Jarod, all I want to know. I also know that the two of you hate each other, so I wouldn't believe anything you tell me."

"Blinders can be dangerous, when there's evil walking beside you."

"I've walked with evil all my life. Would I be any safer with you by my side?"

Jarod chuckled once. "Then when do I get to walk out the door?"

"When this is over. Until then, you can find out what your mother has planned and some way around it."

"So, nothing changes. I'd still be living on promises. I think your daughter and my mother have finally disabused me of the ever after fantasy, and I'm tired of being manipulated."

"Then tell me what you want, aside from freedom."

"I want my son."

"You can't take him, and you can't tell me you'll work for us."

"At this point I might be willing to settle for seeing him grow up." Jarod sighed. So little to ask, so little to settle for. "I don't know that I can stand to stay here, to work for you...or your daughter. But I want to know my son."

"I see. You are willing to do something for your son, even if it's against your moral beliefs."

Jarod nodded, in agreement and acknowledgement of the parallel.

"Then we may finally understand each other." They looked one other in the eye for a moment. "I'll be seeing you soon." Mr. Parker patted Jarod on the shoulder. He switched off the blocking mechanism. His voice took on angry frustration, "Now I have to pay Raines a visit." He walked out of the room.

Jarod was alone again. He sat down on his bed, and wondered how he had managed to sell his soul to The Centre twice in one week.




Mr. Raines was waiting in his office as promised. Mr. Parker joined him and filled him in on the past few days. He verified Margaret's sudden return with her son and his daughter. He said that Margaret was doing her best to limit access to her son, and that Jarod believed the cover story he had just recounted. He also relayed that Jarod did not remember Margaret as his mother.

In turn, Raines filled the other man in on his end of the financial diversion. He added his opinion that it was engineered to get him out of town. Mr. Parker found that easy to believe.

That led to the subject of Miss Parker and her ascendance to the throne. Raines adamantly refused to let the reins of power pass over him and on to the next generation, and there was no way in heaven or hell that he would let Margaret have them. If the Chairman did not want his position he would be more than glad to take it over. Mr. Parker needed Raines support if he was going to keep Margaret at bay, so he allowed the rant without argument.

Finally Raines stepped over the line and threatened Miss Parker's life. The elder of the two men raised his voice to silence the other, and Margaret Abbott walked through the door. She heard.

She took in the scene and was pleased to see obvious antagonism between the two men in the room. "Would you care to back up that threat, Raines?"

"Margaret, when I decide to eliminate problems around here, you'll be the first to know." Raines leered at the new arrival. He also noted Buchan's entrance into the room behind her. Willie in tern straightened in position behind Raines.

Margaret smiled and crossed her arms. "You've had your chance to take care of business; the Triumvirate feels it's time for a change."

"Since when does the Triumvirate whisper in your ear?"

"Since neither of you have made any real progress toward the future." She looked from one man to the other.

Now Mr. Parker entered into the conversation. "I have the ear of the Africans. They know what we've accomplished here and they are pleased with the profits on their investment."

"Even you know that money isn't everything to them, any more than it matters to you in the long run. The future is coming, it's sleeping at my compound as we speak and you would both be wise to step out of the way before you're run over." She stared at Raines while she spoke.

"Neither you nor your new puppet threaten me, Margaret." Raines growled, rising from his chair.

Margaret uncrossed her arms and took a step toward Raines. "Stand in our way or get out of it. Choose your own fate."

Raines returned to his seat and leaned toward her over his desk. "We'll see who's left standing." He took a quick look at Mr. Parker.


Mr. Parker returned the look for a beat; he grunted and turned to Margaret. "This is going nowhere. I'm going home." He walked past Margaret, glancing at Buchan as he passed and strode purposefully down the corridor.


Raines was not finished and said so. Margaret ignored him and left him still talking, his voice rising as it followed her down the hall. Nothing he said was important to her. But she did need to talk to someone else.

Jarod was leaning back against the headboard, glumly staring into space, when his mother walked into the room. He focused on her and her obvious displeasure. "This is turning into a really popular spot tonight." He stretched his legs and put his arms behind his head.

Margaret stood by the foot of the bed and put her hands on her hips. "What did Raines say?"

"'Welcome home,' the usual theme around here. It seems like you think if you say it enough I'll believe it."

"What did you tell him?"



The cover story, as fabricated by you, with a few embellishments," Jarod smiled, "You would have approved. He bought it. Old Man Parker bought it too. He even stayed behind to express his condolences about my virus." Jarod chuckled.

"You think this is funny? Don't be a fool. Raines may have bought your story but that man will have you knifed in the hallway if he thinks it will get him a step up with the Africans. He just threatened Miss Parker to her father and me. Do you doubt that he'll carry out his threats?"

"He threatened her?" Jarod caught the concern in his voice and changed his tone. "That's your problem. Why should I care?"

"Please!" She did not believe a word but she let it ride, "And you should care because your son is on board for anything he does to her."

"So you want to get rid of him now?" Jarod had little problem with that.

"I see no point in prolonging the danger. How long until you have what I need?"

"I live up to my bargains; I promised two days and I did it. I'll have it on disk and hard copies in triplicate as soon as you let me near the computer again. I can do it right now." Jarod swung his legs off the bed and prepared to stand.

Margaret did a quick internal audit. She was tired and her neck was stiff from tension. "No not tonight. Buchan will be here first thing in the morning to watch you. Then you'll bring your results to my office."

"To your office? You mean I get to see sunlight?"


"Jarod, enough." Jarod's flippancy was irritating. She turned to leave and saw the amused smile on Buchan's face. "You think his cheek is funny? As funny as your surveillance lapse?" Anger was still evident in her voice.

Buchan's smile evaporated. He notice that Jarod tensed on the bed. "No, ma'am." It was best to keep response simple.

She swung back toward Jarod. "I want the evidence when I get here at 8. Buchan will be in at 6. Will that give you comedians enough time?"

"Yes." Jarod knew he had pushed his luck a step too far.

"Good and good night." She walked out of the room. Buchan widened his eyes for Jarod's benefit, and then quickly followed.

Jarod slid down on the bed and closed his eyes; a quiet smile spread across his mouth. He had managed to push one of Margaret's buttons.




If there was one side effect of pregnancy that Parker was grateful for, it was exhaustion. Were it not for the constant demands that Cameron's development put on her body, tiring her completely, she would never be able to sleep now, and she knew it. But tonight, as had been the case each night before, no matter what turmoil was plaguing Parker, she had slipped into sleep almost the moment her head hit the pillow. She didn't even try to fight it. The rest was important to her baby, and so she simply embraced the darkness that night brought.

Tonight proved darker than most.


Parker had seen herself in the Centre. Cameron toddled beside her, his two-year-old legs moving quickly to keep pace with Parker's long stride. She smiled down at him, and caught his brown eyes looking up at her full of adoration. At least she had done that - at least she had kept her son with her and, so far, she had kept him feeling happy and loved despite his place in the Centre. He ran his sims happily, assuming they were a game, and the fact that he won praise for each success only fueled his desire to do more. Parker knew that the Triumvirate was coming to view Cameron as a true jewel, perhaps one even more valuable than his father. The day was soon approaching when she would have to make some protective maneuvers to make certain control of her son's life stayed in her hands.


She was thinking that very thought and reaching out for Cameron's outstretched left hand when the elevator doors opened and Margaret emerged with Jarod at her side. It was a rare day when Parker actually saw him, and she felt her breath catch as her eyes moved over him. He was still fit, still beautiful, with a touch of gray just starting at his temples. He was still the co-owner of her heart, too, that was evident from the small shudder that ran through her upon seeing him.

Margaret had once promised that her passion for Jarod would cool, but it never had and Parker ached for him still. But the terms of her deal were still the same. Margaret was not ready to trust that Parker could be with Jarod and not try to give him back his memories, and Parker had not yet unseated Margaret, and so was still at the mercy of her "mentor's" whims.

Jarod looked up then and smiled at her. He remembered her fondly from their childhood and when he saw her he addressed her always as "Miss Parker" in a very formal tone. Gone was the playful seductiveness of him calling her Parker. And the loving endearment he had lavished upon her in Scotland, Annschad, was not even a memory to him.


Margaret watched, Parker could feel her watching, and so she took a deep, slow breath and then returned Jarod's smile in a perfunctory manner. She was about to turn and walk away when she felt the small hand held within her own break free. Cameron was already halfway to Jarod before Parker could start to move.

"Cameron, no," Parker called out, but it was too late. By the time she had actually caught up with her son, he was holding onto the pants leg of Jarod's linen bottoms, pulling to get the older man's attention. Parker held her breath, her eyes moving from Jarod to Margaret, and for the first time in a very long time Parker was uncertain what to do. She could follow Margaret's orders, lie to her friends, order heinous acts in the name of her son's survival – but how did she stand here and watch Cameron speak to his father with no idea how important Jarod really was to him?

She could do nothing but watch now, and wait. Jerking Cameron away would arouse suspicion and upset her son. So she kept waiting. Jarod looked down at the small boy and lowered down into a squat so that he was now eye-level with the child.


"Hello there, who are you?" Jarod asked, the childlike quality of his voice once again present following the memory wipe and the erasure of his desire to be in the outside world.

"I'm Cameron. Who you?"

Jarod smiled and extended his hand to the little boy. "I'm Jarod." Cameron took his hand as Parker had taught him to and Jarod shook the little boy's hand gently. Then he stood back up and looked her in the eyes.

"Is he yours, Miss Parker?"

Margaret was watching even more intently now, and Parker smiled as she looked first down at Cameron and then up at Jarod. "Yes, he is."

Jarod took one more glance at the boy, then he returned his gaze to her. "I see you in his face and mouth. He must have his father's eyes."


'Yes, he does,' Parker thought before realizing how close she was to losing control of her emotions. She wanted to grab Jarod and yell at him and say, 'don't you remember, Jarod? He's our son. He's your son. We love each other and we made love and he's our son. But she knew that she couldn't. Instead, Parker fought not to break. She couldn't. All the suffering couldn't be for nothing. Unable to trust her voice now, she only nodded in agreement with Jarod. She saw Margaret nod in approval as the older woman took Jarod by the arm and led him away.


Parker stood, unable to move for fear that she would begin crying and never be able to stop. In her encounters with Jarod before, she had always held out some small shred of hope that he was only pretending to forget and that when he saw their son, she would see that she was right and know he still held the memory of them in his heart. But now she knew the truth. Her Jarod was gone, and she was alone again except for the little boy who reached out and took tight hold of her hand. Feeling his grip, Parker looked down into his smiling face and deep chocolate brown eyes.

Yes, Jarod, he has your eyes.

Parker woke to the sound of crying and realized only after feeling the tears on her face that it was she who had made the noise. As the horrible empty feeling in her dream came back to her full force, Parker curled herself into a tight ball, her arms wrapped around her middle.

"Please forgive me, Cameron. Please know that I never wanted this."




During the ride home Margaret was silent. She was angry with her son and her chief sweeper, and herself. She allowed too much familiarity from both. Such liberties bred contempt and she could not afford either of them exploiting any seeming weakness. In truth she needed both of them as much as she needed Miss Parker and if she had to destroy any of the three it would, in turn, weaken her.


She could lessen her reliance on Buchan, but that seemed necessary for the moment. She had him close enough to watch. That thought led her to think about the remainder of the evening. She could use a massage, a thorough massage, but that would leave him thinking he was forgiven for the mistakes in Switzerland. He was not. That debacle forced her to take a heavy-handed approach to Raines elimination and she preferred subtlety in all things.

So Margaret went to her room alone and took hot shower instead of other, more relaxing, choices, and then went to bed alone. It had been an all-around bad evening and the only bright spot was that she would see Jarod's evidence first thing in the morning. After that Raines would be talking to the worms.



[Editor's note: This Round Robin is closed to submissions, though not complete. There are no plans at this time to continue it. Please do not harrass the authors, thank you.]









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