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Mysterious Connections
Prologue


The man walked, bareheaded, along the street, looking at, without really seeing, the houses on either side. He seemed unaware of the rain that had begun to fall that morning, initially just a light shower, but which had increased to its current downpour and was keeping most people inside. Eventually, the man drew level with a building, his eyes lighting up at the sight. Slowly, he crossed the empty street towards it, approaching the few stairs that led up to the door and ascending them. He opened the front door and walked through it, closing it carefully after him. Without hesitation, he climbed the stairs, looking neither to the left or right, appearing to know his destination. On the second floor, he stopped outside a specific door and raised his hand.

***


Jarod sat down in front of his laptop with a satisfied smile, picking up a PEZ dispenser that sat on the table and eating a piece of candy from it. Taking the newspaper with a satisfied feeling, he reread the headline, the result of his latest pretend, and cut out the article. Pulling the red notebook out of his jacket, he put it on the table, preparing to stick the article inside. Even as he reached for the tape, however, he heard a knock on the door.

"Just a sec, Henry."

Slipping the book back into his pocket, Jarod got up and walked over to the door, expecting to find his neighbor there. Opening it, the sight of the man on the doorstep made Jarod freeze, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes widened in shock. As he was about to slam the door shut and run, however, he saw the lack of recognition on the face of the man standing in front of him, his horror fading instantly into concern.

"Sydney?"

The man never reacted to the sound of his name, his eyes fixed blankly at a point on Jarod's chest, and the Pretender waved a hand in front of his face.

"Sydney!"

He spoke sharply, but it brought no response. Looking closely, Jarod saw that the jacketless man was soaking wet, his shirt clinging to his skin. Even as he noticed this, Sydney swayed, and Jarod quickly reached out to put a supportive hand on his shoulder, having to change his movement abruptly as the man in front of him suddenly lost consciousness.

***


"Sydney?"

Miss Parker pushed against the door, but it didn't open, and, wearing a frown, she turned on her heel and strode to the elevator, riding it up to SL-5, on which level the Tech Room was situated. The object of her search was standing just outside the elevator as the doors opened and she grabbed his arm. He turned in surprise.

"Miss Parker, is something wrong?"

"Broots, have you seen Sydney this morning?"

The technician shook his head. "I haven't seen him since he left the Centre last night. Isn't he here?"

"No." Miss Parker's frown deepened. "And I can't remember the last time that he took the day off. Can you?"

"Now that you come to mention it," Broots walked alongside Miss Parker as they hurried down the hall, "no, I can't."

The woman pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number. For several moments, she let it ring, before impatiently cutting off the connection and putting in another number. To this, she received a response.

"This is Parker. Has Sydney signed in this morning? No?"

Nodding, she ended the call and glanced over at Broots. "No answer at his house either."

"He couldn't be sick, could he?"

She turned, heading back to the elevators. "Only one way to find out."

***


Jarod managed to prevent Sydney's head from hitting the floor but couldn't stop the man from collapsing to the ground. Even as he bent over the older man, a sound made him look up and a head poked itself around the neighboring door.

"What's going on, Jarod?"

"Henry, give me a hand here."

The man came and knelt beside the figure on the floor. "What happened?"

"No idea." Jarod shrugged, his eyes filled with concern. "He didn't know who I was or even his own name. Then he passed out."

"You know him?"

"You could say that." Jarod looked up again. "Help me get him inside."

Together the two men carried Sydney into the apartment and put him on the only bed. As his friend eased off the older man's shoes, Jarod checked Sydney's vital signs.

"It feels like he's got a fever, but after being out in the rain, I'm not really all that surprised." He looked up. "Could you bring my bag and then see if you can find a few more blankets? I don't have many here."

"I can lend you some. I'll be right back."

Nodding, Jarod turned back to the man on the bed, missing the fact that Henry paused briefly in the doorway, a knowing smile on his face, before he left.

"Sydney?" Jarod gently patted the man's face, trying to rouse him. "Sydney, it's me. It's Jarod. Come on, wake up."

There was no response and Jarod quickly checked the man over again, trying to find a reason for his current condition. Gently unbuttoning the wet shirt, he then carefully turned the man on his side, both to take off the soaking material and also to ease the bedclothes out from under the unconscious form. As he finished this, Henry returned with several blankets that he placed over the radiator before carrying the big medical bag over to the bed.

"What is it?"

"I don't know." Jarod put two fingers on the older man's neck, feeling the blood pulsing quickly under the hot skin. "But it's serious. I’d guess an infection or a virus of some sort."

"A fully trained doctor and that's all you can tell?"

Jarod bit back the reply that sprang to his lips and glanced briefly at the man who was leaning against the wall. "Thanks, Henry."

"Call me if you need me." Sensing his dismissal, the man left the room, and, several seconds later, the door of Jarod's apartment shut. Ignoring this, the Pretender turned his attention back to the unconscious man in front of him.

"Sydney, wake up, please!" Jarod placed his hands into Sydney's. "If you can hear me, I want you to squeeze my hand."

When there was no response, Jarod released his grip and reached into the bag, pulling out a thermometer. Gently he slipped it under the older man's arm and, as he waited for a reading, performed a more thorough examination. There was no sign of an injury that could account for the lack of consciousness, and Jarod was starting to wonder if it was a severe chill when he caught sight of the socks that Sydney was still wearing.

A gentle touch revealed that they were still dry and he knew that, if the older man been out in the rain for long enough to have caused a total lack of consciousness, they would have to be as wet as the trousers that he now took off, before gently pulling the blankets over the man. A quick look at the thermometer showed the high temperature Jarod had been expecting and he concentrated once more on trying to wake the psychiatrist.

"Sydney? Come on, open your eyes for me."

Having not really expected a response, it was a shock when the man did exactly that, the lids slowly lifting.

"Sydney?"

Now, finally, there was a light of recognition in the eyes that slowly turned to him.

"Sydney, can you hear me?"

Jarod leaned over the bed, feeling the man's clammy skin under his fingers. "I don't want you to talk. If you can hear me, just try and squeeze my hand."

There was a slight tightening of the muscles and Jarod smiled. "Good. We'll take that as the sign for 'yes', okay?"

After receiving the reaction that he was waiting for, Jarod spoke again. "Can you remember what happened?"

When there was no reaction Jarod nodded slowly. "Tell me, were you feeling sick yesterday?"

There was a slight tensing of the hand and a look of doubt on the older man's face, his brow furrowing, and Jarod nodded again.

"So you can't really remember?"

Slowly Sydney nodded, his blinking becoming more erratic as he fought to stay focused, and the Pretender placed his free hand on the man's shoulder.

"Okay, just relax. I'll take care of you. Don't worry."

There was a slight tightening of the hand in his as the older man closed his eyes, and Jarod smiled faintly before taking the first of the rugs off the radiator and, as he raised the blankets, wrapped it around the older man's body, covering him again rapidly.

***


Miss Parker slowly made her way back to her office, halting outside the door and looking over at Broots, but he spoke first.

"So, what now?"

She shrugged. "I don't really..."

The ringing of her cell phone cut her off and she activated it quickly.

"Sydney, is that you?"

"No, it's me. I need..."

"Jarod, not right now."

"Parker, you're obviously as worried about Sydney as I am, but for a very different reason, so can you just answer my questions for once?"

Hearing the sharp tones in his voice, she pushed open the door of her office and walked in, waving at Broots to follow.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Start up your computer and I'll show you."

Miss Parker clicked her fingers in the direction of the machine and Broots hurried to turn it on.

"What is it?" she demanded impatiently as the start-up process began.

"Was he sick yesterday?"

"Is he...?"
"Answer the question, Parker!" the man on the other end demanded impatiently.

"I don't know. He didn't say anything about feeling unwell."

As soon as the program was active, she obeyed the instructions Jarod gave her and stared at him when he appeared on the screen, disconnecting the cell-phone and putting it down on her desk. "What happened?"

"He appeared outside my door and collapsed in front of my eyes." Jarod turned the camera to let her see the figure in the bed. "He's got a fever, but that's all I can tell right now. I'm going to run some tests but I wanted to see what you could tell me first."

"And… is he...?"

"He was conscious and lucid about twenty minutes ago, but he can't remember much. Nor, at this stage, could he tell me much." He paused for a moment. "I'll call you when I know what it is."

Cutting the connection, he sat in the chair for several minutes longer before he got up. Going into the kitchenette of his apartment, Jarod put the kettle on the stove and pulled out his most recent discovery - a hot water bottle. Henry, his English neighbor, and the victim for whom he had completed the pretend, had shown his to Jarod, and the pretender was now very thankful that he had accepted one as a gift, seeing Sydney shiver as he lay in the bed. Once the kettle had boiled, Jarod filled the item and replaced the stopper, wrapping the bottle in one of his t-shirts and then slipping it into the bed beside the semi-conscious man. Reaching into the bag, he took out a syringe and fixed a glass tube to it. Next Jarod gently shook Sydney, smiling as the man opened his eyes and, with some difficulty, was able to focus on him.

"Hi, Sydney. I need to take some blood so that we can make sure you don't have an infection, okay?"

As the man slowly nodded, closing his eyes again, Jarod gently lifted a hand and, with a small amount of pressure, raised an artery. The collection of blood took a few minutes, and Sydney had drowsed off by the time Jarod taped down the cotton wool. He stood beside the bed for a moment longer, lips pursed in thought, before taking the other blankets from where they were heating and gently wrapping the first of them around the sleeping man.

***


The preparation of the samples was rapidly completed and Jarod peered at them through the microscope that he had set up on the table. After a moment, he sat back in his chair, frowning again. A sudden sound caught his attention and he eyed the man on the bed before standing up and going over to him, taking a stethoscope from the bag. Within a short time, he’d heard more than enough for an accurate diagnosis. Jarod stepped away from the bed and began to pace the room. The call he had just made to the Centre meant that he couldn't take Sydney to hospital, even for x-rays. He would have to treat him here in the apartment, getting whatever medication he could, and hoping that it would be enough. Jarod turned his eyes to the man in the bed and straightened his shoulders. He had never yet failed in a pretend in the world and now, with this one, he certainly couldn't afford to.









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