Scene 1

            Angelo dragged Jarod’s silver briefcase with the DSA recordings into one of his favorite hiding places just before the people in gold came in and started searching the quarters. He felt the anger in the tall man in red. He also felt the confusion.

            “Help…Jarod,” he muttered. “Help…Jarod. Help…children.”

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Scene 2

            Sydney, Broots, and Parker all stood at the door of their cell and stared across the aisle at Jarod in his cell. He still sat with his head down on his arms propped up on his knees. He hadn’t moved in an hour, since he had quietly taken off his Starfleet uniform jacket and folded it neatly on his bunk. Even Miss Parker hadn’t had the heart to taunt him…yet. Sydney’s face was calm—no one would have known that something inside him was yearning to help the boy he had raised. The boy he was proud of.

            “Jarod,” he ventured, “are you alright?”

            “No,” Jarod muttered without lifting his head.

            “Jarod, you’ve done the best you could. Whatever it was you were doing here, I know you did your best.”

            Now Jarod raised a raging face. “Then my best wasn’t good enough, Sydney! I could have saved them! I know I could have saved them!”

            “Who, Jarod?”

            “The children. The children.” His head went back down.

            “What is it with him and children, Syd?” Miss Parker muttered. “Everywhere we chase him, children appear.”

            “It’s himself, Miss Parker,” Sydney answered in a low voice. “When he’s saving children, he’s saving himself.”

            Miss Parker’s face was thoughtful, quiet. She said nothing more, but Sydney knew her inside and out and knew that somewhere inside she was thinking, Why couldn’t he have saved me, too?

            “What children were they, Jarod?” he asked.

            Jarod looked up at him, his face bitter. “What children? Just guess, Sydney. Guess very close to home.”

            “The Savant Project, you said. Extraordinary children taken for intelligence purposes?”

            “It’s a newer project than yours, Sydney. I suppose it took the Federation longer to attract that sort of person than our government did. But they’re doing exactly the same thing. And I had a chance to cut it off at the root.”

            “This isn’t your world, Jarod. It isn’t your responsibility to put it to rights.”

            “Then whose responsibility is it?” Jarod blazed at him. “You have always made things my responsibility. I’m only continuing your legacy.”

            “Jarod—” Sydney begin, but Jarod put his head back down and would not respond. Sydney turned away and sat on his bunk, his head tipped back in thought. Why was it that when he felt most involved he became most detached? He saw Jarod in agony—many times he had spoken to him on the phone at the emotional height of one of Jarod’s Pretends and heard the agony in his voice—and always his own voice came out calm, detached, in control, like every good psychiatrist should sound. Just when he most wanted to reach out, his coolness put another brick on the wall he had built up. He couldn’t help it anymore. It was more natural than giving in to the warmth of his feelings. He could almost be amused at his own pathology—if it didn’t hurt so much.

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Scene 3

            “Should we release Nurse Onatah?” Riker asked.

            Picard shook his head, still staring at the computer recording. “No, Number One. I am still not fully convinced that this man is quite what you think he is.”

            “Captain, I think he’s Maquis, sent to keep us running around in circles after our own tails while they carry out some raid under our noses!”

            “Number One, we are nowhere near Cardassian space. Why should he come here rather than to some ship in that sector? I think it is more likely that he is a freelance operator. He had to be here, on the Enterprise.”

            “Then what do you think he’s up to, sir?”

            “I don’t know, Number One. If he is acting, he is giving a first-class performance of a man who wants to rescue  kidnapped children, even while in our brig. His conversation with his friends carries out the same theme, even while it confirms that he is not Starfleet. Before we do anything, Will, I think we should confirm that the Savant Project does not, in fact, exist, don’t you?” He tapped his communicator. “Picard to Doctor V’Lan. Join me in my ready room immediately, Doctor. I have a special project for you.”

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Scene 4

            Beverly Crusher had been thinking about Timmy so much recently that initially it did not surprise her when he shuffled into her office. Nor did she consider how she knew he was Timmy. He was there, and he was Timmy.

            For a moment she looked at him as he looked vacantly around her office, and then she rose slowly, the true nature of reality coming back to her. “Timmy?”

            “Timmy…gone,” he informed her. His diction changed. “Now he shall be called Angelo.”

            “Angelo?”

            “Jarod…help Angelo. Angelo…help Jarod.”

            “How did you get here?”

            He came close to her, hand outstretched. She didn’t quite recoil. He touched her shoulder, and his heavy brow furled. “Beverly Crusher…worried. Sad. Beverly Crusher is Jarod’s friend.”

            “I thought I was. Now it seems he has been lying to us all.”

            “No! Jarod is Beverly Crusher’s friend! Jarod…cares for Beverly. Jarod…cares for Wesley. Help Jarod!”

            Staring at him, Beverly touched her communicator. “Doctor Crusher to Counselor Troi. You’d better come to my office. There’s someone here you’ll want to see.”

            Deanna was as confused and discouraged as she was, Beverly could see. Her shoulders were slumped as she came in. But then she halted as if she had run into something. She stared wildly at Angelo, her hand spread on her ribcage.

            “Deanna, what are you feeling?” Beverly asked.

            “Me—you—reflections—echoes. Everything but him! This is what I have been feeling all this time! What is he?”

            “He is an experiment gone wrong, Deanna. Once an intelligent little boy named Timmy. Now an emotional reflector or absorber…named Angelo?”

            “Angelo,” the young man with dull eyes and bushy hair confirmed.

            Deanna came close to him and put out a hand to him as he had to Beverly. He grimaced at her.

            “Jarod…help Angelo.”

            Beverly nodded. “Jarod has been helping Angelo. He told me about him and asked me to find a way in which he could be helped medically. I’ve found a promising possibility, but it still needs work. I did not, however, know he was here.”

            “But where did he come from?”

            “My guess is Jarod’s homeworld, possibly the same way the three in the brig got here. I have no way of knowing where it is, and I doubt Angelo could tell us.”

            “So he’s been cloaked, the way they were. Aboard all this time, and we never knew. He’s an extraordinary presence, Beverly.”

            Beverly nodded. “Jarod called him an empath but said he was different from you.”

            “He explains everything, Beverly. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’ve only been feeling him feel everyone on the ship. Angelo—is that your name? What do you feel, Angelo?”

            “Deanna Troi…sad…confused…hurt.”

            She gasped as her own emotions came, intensified, back at her. “Angelo, please stop feeling me. Feel Angelo. What does Angelo feel?”

            He grimaced again, and Beverly realized it was a smile. “Jarod…Angelo’s friend. Help…Angelo.”

            Beverly saw tears coming into Deanna’s eyes. “Deanna?”

            “I’m feeling Angelo for the first time, Beverly. He’s—Oh, Angelo.” She put her hand on his cheek. “What did they do to you? He is hardly able to feel his own emotions, Beverly. He’s always feeling everyone else’s. But when he does, he feels fear…and love.”

            “Fear of the people who did this to him,” Beverly said. “And love—for Jarod?”

            Deanna sighed. “You know he has to be reported to the captain.”

            Beverly sighed too. “Yes, I know.”

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Scene 5

            Picard had, when petitioned, given Beverly and Deanna permission to accompany Angelo down to the brig. He had even agreed to secure guest quarters for the shambling empath, but a confrontation with Jarod was the first order of business.

            Riker was already there, stalking up and down between the two walls. As the doctor and the two empaths entered, Jarod was shouting, “I am not Section 31! I would die before working with them!” Then he and Riker both saw Angelo, and his voice died. “Oh, Angelo,” he whispered.

            The three other prisoners, watching with various forms of interest, sprang up and rushed to the door of their cell. “Angelo?” Sydney said.

            Miss Parker shook her head. “It’s about time he showed up.”

            “Anglo, why are you here?” Jarod asked softly. “Why didn’t you stay hidden?”

            Angelo smiled at him. “Angelo…helps Jarod. Bring…Beverly. Bring…Deanna.” He looked at the two women. “Help Jarod! Help children!” He put his hand on Beverly’s arm. “Beverly…cares. Children are…hurt. Sad. Scared. Alone. Help Jarod help children.”

            “Oh, Angelo,” Jarod said again. “You’re here so we can help you. Beverly, I brought him here so you would give him asylum and cure him. He can’t ask for it himself, so I am asking for him. I’m the closest thing he has to family.”

            “Hey!” Miss Parker exclaimed. “He belongs to us!”

            “He belongs to no one, Miss Parker!” Jarod shouted at her.

            Sydney’s hand fell on Miss Parker’s arm. “Parker, be quiet,” he said.

            Riker turned on them. “I’d like to know what this man has to do with you. Are you Section 31, and have you been keeping him against his will?”

            “Technically no and yes,” Broots said. He flinched at Miss Parker’s glare.

            “These three are from my world, Commander Riker,” Jarod said. “They work for the Centre, which is nearly indistinguishable from Section 31, only culturally different. For thirty years they held me captive there, and Angelo nearly as long. Now I am requesting sanctuary for Angelo from the Federation.”

            “No,” Angelo said.

            They all stared at him. Jarod choked, “What?”

            Angelo made an effort. He came close to the forcefield and whispered, “Can’t help Jarod here.” He grimaced his grin at Jarod, whispering again, “Angelo hid DSAs. Jarod can find DSAs.” Then he pulled something out of his pocket.

            “The recall device,” Jarod whispered. “No, Angelo.”

            Angelo smiled at him again and touched the control.

            “No!” Jarod cried as Angelo disappeared before their eyes. “No, Angelo!” He turned away and fell to his knees. “No, Angelo! I wanted to help you!”

            With a glance at Riker, Beverly deactivated the forcefield and entered the cell. She knelt next to Jarod and, reaching out, turned his face toward her. “You did help him, Jarod. Do you hear me? You loved him. You of all people should know that that is a better help than all the medical treatments and political asylums in the world.”

            His face was the face of a child again. “I’m failing, Beverly. I’m failing at everything. I’m failing the children—as I was failed.”

            “You won’t fail, Jarod.” She got up and left the brig.