Chapter 15

Here, among the plants of Biodome 28, Sydney felt more at peace than anywhere else within the Centre.  Surrounded by the flourishing flora that he’d grown, he had a pure sense of accomplishment.  His horticultural experiments certainly weren’t groundbreaking work – well, except literally - but at least no one got hurt unless they pricked their finger on a thorn.  And the intense focus needed to perform such tasks as pruning Bonsai served as a kind of therapy for him, taking his mind off his worries.  Since Jarod had been on the run, Sydney had experienced many sleepless nights, wondering if his protégé was safe.  Now that Jarod was back at the Centre it was even worse; with Lyle in control and out of control, Sydney had reason to fear for the Pretender’s safety.  So he tried to visit this sanctuary as much as possible to keep himself on an even keel.

Today he hoped that this would be a secure location to meet with Jarod.  There was a security camera aimed at the entrance to the biodome but none within the structure itself.  A quick electronics sweep had proven that the only bugs in the vicinity were of the natural variety.  Sydney had arranged this meeting for a Sunday when both Willie and Tony were off duty, and the Sweepers taking their place were fairly new to the Centre.  Their personnel files – courtesy of a friend of Broots’ in that department - revealed that one of them had severe allergies, which meant he would be content to stand guard outside the dome.

Sydney needed their conversation to be private.  What he planned to propose had to remain a secret.

“Sydney?”

He was relieved to hear Jarod’s voice but kept his own calm and detached, all business, as he said, “Ah, Jarod.  Good.  I could use your opinion here.”  Sydney purposely didn’t turn from the gardening bench where he was working; it was located at the opposite end of the biodome, as far from the surveillance equipment as possible, and he wanted Jarod to come to him.

He heard the approach of slow, cautious footsteps.  Only one set of footsteps, thank goodness.  Then Jarod, much closer this time: “How can I help?”

Sydney continued to study the notes laid out on the table in front of him.  “I’ve gotten some surprising results from the seedlings of a hybrid I developed.  I wanted to get your take on it.”

“Sure.”  Jarod stepped up next to him.  “Nice place you’ve got here, by the way.”

“I thought you might appreciate a taste of nature –even simulated – after your recent stint in solitary.  And I’ve always found this environment rather soothing.” 

Jarod let out a small sigh.  “It is rather pleasant.  How’d you convince the powers-that-be to allow me this unexpected break from my sub-level existence?”

“I told Mr. Parker that you would not be able to perform efficiently if your health suffers, which it surely would if you’re constantly kept in tiny rooms underground.  It didn’t take much to convince him; you haven’t looked particularly well since you’ve been back at the Centre.” Sydney glanced over at him and was horrified to see how true that statement was; Jarod was sporting a black eye and a swollen lip.  “My God, Jarod, what happened?”

His former student shrugged, and even that slight movement was made stiffly, Sydney observed with dismay.  “The guards were getting bored while I was confined to my cell, so Lyle gave them a chance to use me as a punching bag to boost morale.”

“Do you need medical attention?” 

Jarod shook his head.  “No, it’s nothing serious.  A black eye, some facial lacerations, and a few bruised ribs.”  He paused then added wryly, “I guess I deserved it; I did break Willie’s nose twice in three weeks.”

Sydney winced inwardly but didn’t express his feeling aloud.  He knew this clinical recitation of injuries and attempt at self-deprecating humor were Jarod’s way of coping with the pain and helplessness he’d surely felt when cornered by the Sweepers in his cell.

To keep up with the charade, Sydney placed a potted flower in front of Jarod.  “This is one of the seedlings I mentioned.  What do you think?”

Jarod gently touched the purple petals with the pale pink swirls.  “Beautiful,” he breathed and seemed to truly mean it.  Pitching his voice louder for the guards’ benefit, he said, “I see what you mean about surprising results.  I’ve never seen a flower like this.  What hybrids created it?”

“A new species of African Violet.  Here are my notes.”  Sydney pushed a few papers his way.

Jarod bent over the pages and asked quietly, out of the corner of his mouth, “How is Miss Parker?”

“I’m not sure.  She’s been away for a week.  She went to Maine.”

Jarod looked surprised but faintly pleased.  “That should be good for her.”

Sydney knew that Jarod was well aware of Ben, Catherine Parker’s former lover who lived in Maine.  He was an important link to Miss Parker’s mother, the one person who had known the carefree dancer before she’d married Mr. Parker.  Time spent with Ben would surely help Miss Parker.

Jarod’s attention had returned to the exotic-looking flower.  He swiveled the pot slowly to examine it from every angle.  “I wish she’d stay away,” he said.  “I told her it’s too dangerous here at the Centre now, especially since Lyle has used her twice to get to me.”

“Twice?” Sydney said sharply.

Jarod kept his head bent over the amethyst blooms but swiveled his gaze to his former teacher.  “She didn’t tell you?  Not surprising.  I doubt she wants to admit that her brother has successfully endangered her life twice in recent weeks.”  His jaw tightened.  “She’s too stubborn for her own good.”

“Jarod, when was the first time Lyle threatened Miss Parker?”

Jarod straightened up with a sigh and looked at him fully.  “The day I was captured at the cemetery.  Lyle had a gun on her.  I couldn’t take the chance that he was bluffing, so I let him bring me in.  Looking back, that was probably a big mistake.”

“Jarod, he infected his own sister with a deadly virus that had no known antidote at the time,” Sydney said in a low, insistent tone.  “He would have had no qualms about putting a bullet in her.  You made the right choice that day.”

“Did I?” Jarod looked back down at the horticultural notes and rubbed his forehead tiredly.  “His capture of me has given him a great deal of power.  He’s more dangerous now than ever.”

Sydney was silent.  Jarod’s grim assessment of the situation was correct, and he had no words of comfort to offer. 

Jarod asked abruptly, “Did Miss Parker ever speak to her father about Lyle?”

“She mentioned that he’d come to the house to see her the day he returned from his cruise, but I don’t know what was said between them.  She left for Maine the next day.”

Jarod’s shoulders slumped in defeat.  “She didn’t tell him.”

“Probably not.  Mr. Parker certainly has not made any attempt to restrict Lyle’s behavior.” He gestured at the bruises on Jarod’s face.  “He’s still operating with impunity.”

“I can handle whatever Lyle does to me.  It’s wondering what he’ll do next to Miss Parker that has me worried.”

Sydney could clearly hear the agitation in his voice and see it in the way he tightly gripped the pen as he pretended to make a notation about the flower he was examining.  He wondered if he should press Jarod to voice his true feelings about Miss Parker.  This was as close as they’d come to being alone in the Centre; now would be the best time.

Sydney leaned over another specimen of exotic flower as if breathing in its scent.  “You care for her,” he observed quietly, tilting his head slightly to catch Jarod’s expression.

The Pretender never looked up from the “notes” he was jotting down, but the pen did still for a second or two.  His answer was barely audible: “I don’t want her to be hurt because of me.”

Well, no breakthrough there.  Sometimes, like now, Sydney had a very unprofessional urge to grab Jarod by the shoulders and shake him until he admitted the depth of his feelings for Miss Parker!  Instead, he took out his frustration on the seedling, crushing one of its delicate petals between his fingers.  He saw the startled look this action elicited from Jarod, but he offered no explanation.  As he regained his composure, he made a few “notes” of his own about the flower he’d just damaged.

After a moment, Jarod whispered urgently, “Sydney, you need to convince Miss Parker to leave the Centre and never return.  We need to get her out of harm’s way.”

Sydney shook his head.  “No.”

“No?”  He sounded stunned.

“That won’t solve the problem.”  Sydney straightened and took off his suit coat, finding the humidity within the greenhouse suddenly oppressive.  “Jarod, no doubt your feelings for Miss Parker are different than those you have for me, yet I am fairly certain you would capitulate to Lyle’s demands were he to hold a gun to my head.  And you would do the same for Broots.  In fact, you would do whatever you could to save some innocent stranger pulled in off the street.  That’s your nature, and Lyle knows it.”  He paused, drew in a deep breath, and finally gave voice to the crazy idea that had been running around in his head for quite some time.  “We need to remove you from the equation.  You need to escape.”

If the subject matter hadn’t been so serious, Sydney would have found Jarod’s look of astonishment comical.  He’d rarely seen the Pretender allow his true emotions to show on his face.

After a moment of shocked silence, Jarod finally managed, “Do you know what you’re saying, Sydney?  You’d willingly help me to escape?  After years of trying to get me back?”

Sydney risked a glance towards the far end of the dome and was relieved to see that the coast was still clear.  “I admire all the good you’ve been able to do on your own out there in the world, Jarod, but I still believe your talents would be put to best use by an organization with the resources of the Centre.  Many years ago, before you were even born, the Centre was a much different place, one that took on various altruistic projects.”  He sighed.  “Unfortunately, that benevolent agency no longer exists.  Until there’s a change in leadership here, your skills will continue to be misused, your principles compromised.  There’s no longer any reason for you to stay.”

Jarod stared at him for a long moment.  “Well, thanks for finally admitting that, Sydney, but unless we can figure out a way to deactivate my implant, all talk of escape will remain just talk.”

Buoyed somewhat by the grain of respect he thought he’d seen in Jarod’s eyes, Sydney persisted with his positive thinking.  “Broots is working on that problem right now.  I imagine he’s been slowed somewhat by his current workload – Lyle’s had him running from one satellite office to another all week running computer diagnostics – but I’m certain he’ll come up with an answer soon.  He’s a technological wiz, you know, and when Miss Parker gives him an assignment, he always completes it.”

“Miss Parker asked him to work on this?” Jarod asked in surprise.

“Yes, right after the incident in the elevator.  She was very upset when Lyle pulled out that little black box and showed what it could do.”  Sydney paused then added gently, “She may talk tough, Jarod, but she truly doesn’t want to see you hurt.”

Jarod averted his gaze, studying the potted flower with renewed intensity.  “Maybe,” he finally said grudgingly, “but she certainly won’t want to help me escape.”

“Leave Miss Parker to me,” Sydney said, trying to put confidence he didn’t feel into his words.  “Your job right now is to go along, as best you can, with whatever Lyle wants.  Don’t give him any reason to throw you back into solitary or use that damn device on you.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jarod said drily.  “I may be able to withstand torture, but it’s not an experience I care to repeat too often.”

It was Sydney’s turn to busy himself with his notes as he tried to ignore the sudden lump in his throat.

“At least the new project I start tomorrow shouldn’t cause any crisis of conscience,” Jarod went on in a lighter voice.  “I’m supposed to help a private company figure out the best way to mine asteroids for valuable minerals.  I may be helping a greedy corporation make a ton of money, but I can live with that.”

“Dr. Green, are you finished with him yet?” One of the Sweepers had entered the greenhouse.  “We need to get him back to his cell.”

“Of course,” Sydney replied and then, in the same louder voice, “Thank you for your help, Jarod.”

Jarod inclined his head.  “Thank you for yours,” he murmured.  He added for the benefit of the guards: “Botany is definitely your forte, Sydney.  You’ve achieved some beautiful results here.”  He gave one last, sincerely admiring glance at the purple blossoms then turned and walked to his waiting escort.

Sydney watched them leave.  I hope I deserve your thanks one day soon, Jarod, he thought.  A twinge of anxiety flared within him, and he turned back to his plants to lose himself in their serene beauty.

When Miss Parker looked through the peephole of her front door Monday night and saw Broots and Sydney standing on her porch, she felt her stomach plummet.  Yanking open the door, she demanded, “What’s wrong?  Is Jarod okay?”

The startled look on Broots’ face and the appraising one on Sydney’s made her realize – too late – that she’d just revealed who had been uppermost in her thoughts recently.

“Jarod’s fine,” Broots said.  “I mean, as fine as he can be as a prisoner of the Centre.  I mean, he’s no worse off than he was the last time you saw him.  Actually, I guess he’s better, since I don’t think Lyle’s shocked him lately…although, I don’t know that for certain, since Jarod’s been in solitary confinement all last week, and I wasn’t around much either…”

Oh, God, Broots babble.  She hadn’t missed that this last week.  Being in Maine with her mother’s friend Ben had been a refreshing change.  He had a gentle voice but was best at listening; she saw why her mother had gone to visit him every year. 

Sydney must have sensed her growing irritation with Broots, for he interrupted the techie’s nervous chatter to say smoothly, “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Miss Parker, but this conversation needed to take place away from the omnipresent eyes and ears of the Centre.”  He pushed past Broots to enter the house.

Broots closed his mouth and followed meekly behind his colleague.

Stifling a sigh, Miss Parker closed the door then turned to face the men.  “So, why does this conversation have to be held in private?” she asked.

“It’s about that special project you asked me to work on,” Broots said.

“You can speak freely here, Broots,” Sydney reminded him.

“Oh!  Right.  Okay.  Um…” 

Sydney moved around to the front of the sofa and sat down.  He arched a look at Miss Parker, silently encouraging her to follow suit.

She reluctantly joined him on the couch, taking a seat at the opposite end and hoping she wasn’t giving Broots tacit permission to prattle on forever. 

As if suddenly noticing he had an audience, Broots hurriedly took up position in front of the living room’s stone fireplace but then seemed at a loss for words; he couldn’t even manage to stutter.

“Is this about that device Lyle used to shock Jarod?” Miss Parker prompted to snap him out of his “stage fright.”

“Yes!  You asked me to find a way to neutralize it.  Well, I was bouncing around the tri-state area all week running computer diagnostics at Centre satellite offices, so I didn’t really have much time to work on the problem.”

“Busy work supplied by Lyle,” Sydney commented.

Miss Parker cast him a sidelong glance.  “Really?  Hm, I thought my brother was sure we wouldn’t be able to defeat his little black box.  Guess he had second thoughts when he remembered what a tech genius Broots is.”

The “genius” flushed at her compliment, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, and Miss Parker felt like kicking herself.  “You have figured out a way to deactivate the device, haven’t you, Broots?” she pressed in her normal, no-nonsense tone.

“Oh, yes, I have!  I mean, I know what I need to do.  I have to jam the frequency that triggers the receiver in Jarod’s implant, but first I have to isolate the frequency it operates on.”

“And how do you do that?” she asked.

Broots opened his mouth and then shut it again.  “It’s pretty technical,” he said uncertainly.

As if sensing she was about to leap off the sofa and launch herself at Broots, Sydney laid a hand on her arm.  “Just give us the basics,” he suggested mildly.

“Well, I can use my computer to find the correct frequency.  I just need to be in close proximity to Lyle the next time he uses the device to shock Jarod.”

She didn’t like the sound of that.  Just thinking of Lyle torturing Jarod in that way again made her feel a little queasy.  “What if Jarod sets off the invisible fence outside?” she proposed.  “Couldn’t you get the data you need from that?”

Broots shook his head.  “That won’t work.  I need a sustained transmission to get the best results.  The safeties on the fence might shut off the current before I can get an exact reading.  Or Sweepers might drag him away too soon.”

“How long does the transmission have to last?” she asked, the sick feeling in her stomach growing.

“I’m not sure exactly, but the longer the better,” Broots said, starting to look miserable.

Miss Parker turned to Sydney.  “Wouldn’t a sustained shock be harmful to Jarod?”

“Well, electric shocks are a popular method of torture precisely because they can be delivered in a controlled way that causes maximum pain but no lasting physical harm to the victim.  A sustained shock at a high enough current can lead to ventricular fibrillation, but I believe the safety on Lyle’s device won’t allow that.  Of course, repeated shocks can cause neuropathy.”

Miss Parker wasn’t exactly sure what all of that meant, other than that Sydney was using the fancy terminology to cover up the fact that he was upset.  Since Jarod was like a son to him, the thought of him having to undergo more torture was disturbing.  Even she didn’t like the idea of Jarod being shocked again, but not because he meant anything to her.  It was just common decency to be bothered by torture.

“Most likely a prolonged shock will not cause permanent damage to Jarod,” Sydney went on quietly, “but the pain will be excruciating.”

She heard Broots gulp.  “That’s okay.  Jarod can take it,” she said.  “He knows how to endure torture.  He’s… he’s had enough practice.”

She wasn’t aware she was clutching one of the heavy throw pillows on the couch and  spastically kneading the braided cord along its edge until she noticed Sydney observing this action with a shrink’s clinical eye.  She quickly tossed the pillow aside and stood up, moving behind the sofa and out of her colleague’s line of sight.

“What if Jarod refuses to do this?” Broots asked.  “I wouldn’t blame him.”

“Jarod will do it,” Miss Parker said with conviction.  “especially if he knows it means you’ll be able to disable the shock transmitter, preventing Lyle from torturing him that way again.”

“Why don’t we give Jarod even more motivation?” Sydney said.  “Once Broots can jam the frequency he’ll be able to punch a hole through the invisible fence around the building.”  He rose to his feet and turned to look directly at Miss Parker.  “Then Jarod can escape.”

Had she heard him correctly?  Had he just outright suggested that they help Jarod to escape?  “You’re serious,” she said, needing confirmation.

“Yes,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face.

Sydney’s voice was as calm as ever, with that European accent that made him seem somehow more cultured than the rest of them.  He wore his usual suit, the tie slightly askew after a long day at the office, and his usual unreadable expression, the one perfected by psychiatrists everywhere.

But the statement he had just made meant everything had changed.  There was a time not long ago when he would have been afraid to voice any escape plan for Jarod in front of her, because she would have instantly reported his treason to her father.  Lucky for him, she wasn’t even considering telling her father about this conversation.

She was considering helping with the escape plan.

What in the hell was wrong with her?

While Miss Parker silently struggled with herself, Broots stammered, “B-but w-we’ve been trying to catch Jarod for years!  You really want to help him escape?”

“Why now?” Miss Parker asked Sydney.

“Because Lyle is out of control, and it’s not just Jarod I’m worried about.  You’re in danger, too.”

She let her irritation show.  “You’ve been talking to Jarod.”  I thought I’d lost you…

“Yes, and he agreed the best thing is for him to escape as soon as possible.”

“Oh, I just bet he did,” she said, hoping sarcasm would drive Jarod’s voice and the memory of his mouth on hers out of her mind.

Broots had started to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace, muttering all the while, “All that work we did, all those searches, those false leads, the computer programs I developed to help catch him…”

“Jarod knows he can’t stay here, especially now that his presence is putting others at risk.  I have no doubt that Lyle would also use me or Broots to make him capitulate, although your relationship with Jarod makes you his favorite target.”

“What relationship?” she challenged, cursing inwardly as her mind instantly went to those kisses shared in the elevator.  As she felt her cheeks grow hot, she scowled to hopefully mask any other emotion that might have worked its way onto her face.

Sydney moved behind the couch to come stand beside her.  “Your childhood friendship, your shared loss of family.  Jarod connects with you on an emotional level.”

His gentle voice was almost hypnotic.  Miss Parker shook her head to clear it.  “No, no, you’re the one with the emotional ties to Jarod.  If anyone at the Centre has a relationship with him, it’s you.  You’re like a father to him, Sydney.”

“As I said, I’m sure Lyle would also use me to get to Jarod.  He’s gone from the carrot to the stick method.  He’s no longer offering promises of clues to Jarod’s missing family to coerce him; instead, he’s threatening the loved ones who are currently present in his life.”

Miss Parker blinked.  “I think your analysis is a bit flawed there, Sigmund; I doubt Jarod considers you or me his ‘loved ones’.”

“We’re still the closest thing he has to a family, dysfunctional as it is.  He truly doesn’t want to see any one of us hurt.  And Lyle will use that to his advantage whenever he has to.  That’s why we need to get Jarod out of here now!”

“B-but won’t we all be in even more danger if we help him to escape?”  Broots asked.  “I’d rather not end up in that wood shed Lyle has in the secret room in his apartment.”

“Don’t worry, Broots, you’re not a woman or Asian,” Miss Parker said, “so you’re safe.”

“None of us are safe,” Sydney said.  “Lyle knows he can use even Broots to get to Jarod.  He’s seen the report on Damian’s death; he knows that Jarod killed – something he’d never done before - to save a person who’d been trying to capture him for years, because he knew it was the right thing to do.”

“Oh, I’m not comfortable with this,” Broots said miserably.

“What else is new?” Miss Parker snapped.

“Jarod saved your life, Broots,” Sydney said.  “You owe him.”

Broots sank down on the edge of the coffee table and put his head in his hands.

“As long as no one figures out we helped him to escape, we’ll all actually be safer with Jarod on the loose again,” Miss Parker said.  She was looking at Broots but she could sense Sydney go on full alert at her words.  “Hypothetically speaking,” she added to make sure her co-workers understood she had not agreed to go along with this wild idea, “if Jarod escapes again, the Centre will need the three of us to bring him back.  Broots’ technical skills, Sydney’s unique understanding of Jarod’s psyche, and my ruthless tracking ability make us the best team to capture him.  They’ll need us.”

“Not to mention that Lyle will lose favor with the Triumverate if he lets Jarod escape for a second time on his watch,” Sydney pointed out.  “A less powerful Lyle is better for everyone.”

Miss Parker cast a sidelong look at Sydney, who was watching her intently.  She knew when she was being manipulated.  Sydney was well aware that she would do almost anything to get the better of her brother, even if it meant helping her long-hunted prey to escape.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Broots’ voice was muffled by his hands.  “We’re going to help Jarod escape and then try to catch him again?”

“Once Lyle is neutralized, the Centre will be a safer environment for Jarod,” Sydney said.  “It’s my hope that the Centre will use his extraordinary abilities for good.  And if Miss Parker is the one who brings him back, she’ll be the one with the power to oversee the Pretender project and have more say in what assignments he’s given.”

Jarod is the Centre’s greatest asset.  Whoever brings him back will hold all the power.  Her father’s words came back to her with renewed urgency.  This could be her best chance to gain influence with the Triumverate and guarantee that she and her father would be the Parkers who remained in control of the Centre.  “So you won’t fight me on bringing Jarod back when the time is right?” she asked Sydney slowly.

“You know Jarod is like a son to me.  I want him close by.”

Sydney spoke simply but sincerely, and Miss Parker knew he was telling the truth.

“So we’re agreed?  We’ll help Jarod escape?” Sydney went on quietly.

Though her heart was pounding, Miss Parker’s voice was steady as she replied,“Agreed.”

“I think we’re all crazy,” Broots lamented.

Despite the gravity of the moment, she felt her lips twitch.  She didn’t take her eyes off Sydney as she said, “Side effect of working at the Centre, Broots.  Maybe our resident shrink will offer you some free sessions.”

He didn’t crack a smile, but she couldn’t miss the satisfied gleam in his dark eyes.

He should be feeling a bit pleased with himself, she thought sourly.  He just got me to agree to go against the Centre.

Broots is right; I must be crazy.