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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 5
"Come on, Sydney, a little more,” Michelle urged. “There's only this one left."
The man swallowed with difficulty and then looked up at his son. "Not bad…"
"Thanks, Dad!" The young man's tones were sarcastic, and produced a faint smile on the sick man's face. "It was my best effort, too!"
"You'll... get better. Get Broots to... show you..."
"As long as you try to sleep again."
Sydney nodded slightly and then closed his eyes, his fingers tightening briefly around those of the woman sitting beside him, before he relaxed, as Michelle replaced the mask. Taking away the empty bowl, Nicholas left the room, his gaze meeting that of the man who sat on the sofa.
"How did he know you were here?" the younger man demanded softly, pulling the door shut.
"He's probably heard my voice at some time over the last few days."
"But he didn't ask about..."
"I know." Broots sighed heavily. "I really hope Jarod doesn't..." The technician closed his eyes briefly, as the phone rang, and then reached forward to answer it, but Nicholas quickly picked up the receiver.
"Jarod?"
"How's he doing?"
"He ate everything. I think he's getting better."
"Good." There was a pause. "I'm very glad for you, Nicholas."
Hearing the dial tone, the young man replaced the receiver and looked at the man opposite.
"He wouldn't...?"
"He as good as promised, and promises mean a lot to him. I don't think he'd do anything." Broots stood up. "Come on, let's get something ready for your father to eat later."
"Two whole days and he hasn't called," the woman muttered as she stared at the floor.
"He might not, not now."
"And why not?" Miss Parker turned and stared at Henry.
"Well, why would he? He knows after talking to Nicholas that Sydney's recovering and he'd be able to work out his progress. It's my guess he won't call again." Henry looked over at Broots, an expression of sympathy on his face. "I know you're worried about him, but I don't think he’d do anything - not until he's sure Sydney's definitely better anyway."
There was a pause that lasted for several minutes, each person wondering what was going to happen afterwards. Finally it was broken.
"What about Lyle?"
"What about him? Miss Parker demanded as she looked over at Nicholas sharply.
"Does he know what's going on?"
"No. We didn't see him. We put in a report saying what happened and left again."
"Good." Nicholas stared at his hands. "I'd hate to think what Lyle might do to Dad, even in his current state, to get Jarod back."
"Is this everything?" the woman demanded, looking at the boxes and bags on the floor at their feet.
"Almost. We're leaving the humidifier, but we can take everything else back."
"You're sure?"
"No." Broots shook his head. "But Jarod is." He held up the letter briefly and then put it down again.
The drive to the medical provisions store was silent. As the two people walked in, their arms full, the man behind the counter looked up and smiled. "Miss Parker, Mr. Broots, I was hoping to see you soon."
"You... you know about...?" Despite herself, Miss Parker couldn't keep the incredulity from her voice and the man grinned.
"Well, sure. Doc Jarod said that I should expect you within a week of him coming by to pay for it all. You're right on time," The man reached down to pick up two small oxygen tanks, placing them on the counter. "He suggested you take those back with you, just in case. I'll refill them for you when you need them, but he thought they'd be a good security measure."
"Thanks." Broots put the bags he was carrying down on the bench and picked up one tank in each hand. "Do they work the same way as the others?"
"They sure do. Just fix the mask on like you did before and it'll be fine." The man bent down to pick up a box. "This is a few more, in case something happens to the others you've got, and there's also antibiotics that Doc asked me to give you, as well as some medication, like what you'd give to an asthmatic, just in case. He said you'd know when to give it to him."
Miss Parker reached out and took the box. "And there's nothing else to pay?"
"Not a penny. Doc took care of it a week ago, and he said that you'd probably be able to bring back the humidifier inside of another week, so I'll look forward to seeing you again then."
The two turned to the door but Broots looked back. "Can you tell me - exactly when did Jarod come by to pay for all that?"
"It was Tuesday. He was waiting outside the store when I arrived at work at eight and paid for it all real quick before going again. I guess he didn't want that to leave patient of his alone for too long though, right?"
"Yes," agreed Broots quietly. "That's right."
"So he was still around when we got up?" Miss Parker suggested.
"And longer." Henry looked up. "I went to pay my rent today and got chatting with Steve, the landlord. It seems that after Jarod paid for everything at the equipment store, he went to see Steve and paid the rent on this apartment for the next month. He paid my rent for the same length of time."
"Why didn't we think he'd still be around?" She stood up from her chair and began to pace the room, eventually stopping to glare around at the other occupants. "What on earth stopped us from going out to hunt for him?
"And you think he would just have let you find him, Miss Parker?" Broots looked over at her. "Believe me, he'd have been even better concealed than he was when we were chasing him. None of us would have laid eyes on him."
At this juncture, the door of the bedroom opened, and Nicholas came out with an empty bowl in his hands.
"How is he?"
"Well, he's not complaining about my cooking anymore."
Broots smiled. "And did you tell him that you were responsible for that, or did you let me take credit for it again?"
"No, I told him." Nicholas paused. "He wants to talk to you."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh huh. He said he walked to talk to you when you had a minute."
The technician got up and walked over to the door immediately, pushing it open and entering the bedroom. As the man walked in, Michelle stood up and kissed Sydney on the forehead before leaving.
"How are you feeling?"
"A lot better." The voice was still somewhat rough, but familiar enough for Broots to sit in the chair beside the bed with a smile.
"I'm glad to hear it."
"I wanted to thank you for your help."
"Syd, you don't have to. I was happy to be able to do something."
"When did you get here?"
"Four hours or so after you first collapsed, apparently. I tracked Jarod through his call to Miss Parker." Broots eyed the other man closely as he said the name, wondering what his reaction would be.
"Does the Centre know? That I'm sick, I mean."
The technician leaned back in his chair, looking at the other man warily for a moment, before responding. "We handed in a report, but 'accidentally' wrote in the wrong location so that we'd have a while before they found out where we are."
Sydney's eyes twinkled as he asked the next question. "Have you applied for that transfer yet, or will you wait until you get back?"
Broots jaw dropped. "How on earth...?"
"…Did I know?" Sydney laughed, but his chest constricted and he had to cough to clear it. At the sound, Michelle reappeared and Broots stood up.
"I'm going to help Nicholas get something for lunch, Syd. We can finish this some other time."
"Hey, Broots!"
The man jumped slightly and turned around. "What?"
"I just nearly made what you told me was an unforgivable sin of cookery, and you didn't say a word."
"Sorry, I was thinking."
"About?"
Broots leaned against the bench, his arms folded on his chest, watching the younger man mix something in a large bowl. "Several things."
"Your brother."
"That was one of them, yes. I get the feeling Sydney knows about it, but I can't figure out how he would."
"Would Jarod have...?"
"I don't know why he would have told him. If he knew then the fact that I'm trying to transfer to Corporate would be obvious. If he doesn't, he must have heard me say something about it to Miss Parker."
"You're not the only one making that plan, Broots."
The man eyed her as Miss Parker appeared in the kitchen doorway. "You're going to ask your father if you can transfer back and you think he'll just let you, considering he was the one who took you out of there and put you on the pursuit in the first place?"
"And why would you be allowed to if I'm not?"
"Two reasons. First, my skills are replaceable. Your connection with Jarod isn't, except maybe in Sydney. Second, even without taking into consideration the fact that he's my brother, I now have an emotional involvement with him and don't feel capable of being objective in my work any longer. I feel that I'm able to serve the Centre much better in an area where my work isn't affected by how I feel about it. When I presented those facts to the Triumvirate, they believed them to be satisfactory, provided you knew. Considering the history that you two have, I don't think either of those excuses will be allowed in your case."
"But why shouldn't I be able to get a transfer if it's so easy for you?" The woman pulled a high stool over and sat on it, leaning back against the opposite wall and staring at the technician.
"Because I don't think your father will let you. He must have had a reason for you being put on the pursuit in the first place and unless you can work out what that was and work with it I don't think you've got a chance."
Miss Parker looked over at Nicholas. "How long before Sydney's well enough for us to get out of here?"
"It should only be another couple of days." Nicholas paused for a moment, wiping the flour off his fingers. "But there's a point Mom and I want to discuss with you both, and this is probably as good a time as any."
"What's up?"
"Mom's concerned that this might have left permanent damage."
"In what way?"
Broots looked at Miss Parker. "Pneumonia can damage the lung surfaces and cause lesions or create scar tissue. That means the amount of air Sydney can take in from now on could be reduced."
She raised an eyebrow. "How do you know so much about it?"
"Several files appeared in my email and I did a little more research."
"You never told me he..."
"Miss Parker, there were five files attached to an email that had no text within it at all and the subject of 'pneumonia'. What else is there for me to tell you?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Nicholas. "What's your concern?"
"Well," Nicholas looked from the technician to the woman who sat opposite. "It's just that Dad does a lot of flying with work, and it could be dangerous if his lungs were damaged. All those long hours in the car and pollution-filled traffic won't be very healthy either."
Broots nodded slowly and looked up. "What's your solution?"
"That Dad stops chasing Jarod. The only problem is that I don't know how you could make the Centre believe it was necessary."
"I think I can solve that problem for you."
The three people looked up to find Henry in the doorway, a folder in his hand and a smile on his face. "This was just this delivered to me."
He came over and placed the folder down on the table, opening it to show a letter in familiar handwriting. Broots picked it up and read through it quickly.
"Well?"
"A medical recommendation that Sydney no longer be involved with any travel in his work. His proposal is for Sydney to be given a job with regular hours, located solely within the Centre."
"We can't hand that in." Miss Parker sat back on the chair, rolling her eyes. "They'd recognize his handwriting." Her lips curled into a slight sneer. "Obviously he's slipping."
"Is that so?" Broots jumped in before Henry could respond to this and picked up a long sealed envelope, waving it in her direction. "So how do you explain this typed version he included for the Triumvirate?" Broots read through the other page and then at the woman who had cleared her face of expression and sat silently watching him. "He also provides the name of another doctor for us to contact."
Miss Parker got up from her seat. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go."
"If you wouldn't mind waiting for a few moments, Dr. Burke will see you just as soon as he's finished with his current patient."
"Thank you." Broots sat down on one of the chairs in the second consulting room, and Miss Parker started to pace the floor. He looked up. "If the three of us get transferred away, that'll leave Lyle in charge of the pursuit."
"He'll be pretty happy about that."
"Until he doesn't hear anything from Jarod, and has no idea of his location."
Miss Parker looked at him with narrow eyes. "You think that's going to happen?"
"Yes." Broots nodded slowly. "He said, when we first got there that if Sydney died, the Centre would never find him again - no more clues, no more games, no more 'sightings'. I think that's what..."
"He's not dead, Broots." Her voice was sharp.
"No, but I think that's what Jarod will try to convince himself is true. He won't admit that he’s jealous of Michelle, and especially Nicholas, but it's been eating away at him, especially since Michelle's husband died. I think Jarod will try to convince himself that Sydney never existed." Broots stared at the floor for several seconds before looking back at her. "I don’t think Lyle will have any idea of where my brother is, until someone finds his bod..."
"Stop!" Miss Parker stared at the wall in front of her for a few minutes. "Jarod said he wouldn't do anything stupid."
"Working yourself to death isn't stupid; not in his eyes. Nor is being so focused on your work that you don't pay proper attention to yourself."
"You think that's what...?"
"Well, he sure won't commit suicide."
"Miss Parker, Mr. Broots?"
The two people turned to see an older man in the doorway and he walked over to sit down at the desk. "My name's Dr. James Burke. Jarod said you'd both be likely to come to see me at some point today."
"How much did he tell you?" the woman demanded.
"He gave me a quick run-down of Sydney's current condition and medical history. He asked if I’d give you these." The man produced a large envelope. "This contains two full sets of chest x-rays. We all know that they're not Sydney's, but not too many other people would be able to tell that. They're from a patient who had very bad case of pneumonia about eight weeks ago, and was about Sydney's age and size. One lot of scans was taken when the pneumonia was first diagnosed; the other is from the same patient now. He has a number of lesions and a few patches of scarring. That should be sufficient to prove to the people at your place of work that Sydney has to cease any activity that might put stress on his lungs."
"It's possible that this might bring people here to confirm that with you," Broots told him.
Dr. Burke smiled. "I understand that, but I owe Jarod a big favor and if I can repay him in any way, it'll be worth it. As far as they'll be told, I was called in by a local medical colleague to act as a consultant on Sydney's case. If they're really keen, that local colleague will tell the same story."
Miss Parker looked up. "When was Jarod here?"
The doctor glanced at his watch. "He left about two and a half hours ago."
"I guess,” Broots tried to speak lightly. “He didn't mention where he was going?"
"No, I'm afraid he didn’t. Jarod just said he'd been in one spot long enough and wanted to get away for a while." The doctor smiled. "Now, was there anything else?"
"Miss Parker?"
The woman looked up to see Michelle standing in the doorway and smiled at her. "What can I do for you?"
"Sydney wants to see you."
Miss Parker raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"He said so."
Nodding, Miss Parker walked into the bedroom and shut the door. Going over to the bed, she sat on the chair next to it and touched the hand of the man who lay there.
"Syd?"
"You have to tell him you're sorry, Parker." Sydney opened his eyes and lifted a hand to push off the mask that was still over his mouth and nose. She reached out to try and restrain him.
"If you need it, leave it there."
"I don't. Not right now. Maybe later." He pushed it weakly to one side, but his gaze was firmly fixed on her. "Unless you tell him you're sorry for what you said, it's going to destroy your friendship."
"What friendship?" Miss Parker sat back in the chair, eyeing Sydney skeptically. "We haven't been friends for years. All he does is irritate me by sending annoying presents and dangling tit bits of information about my family in front of my face."
The man nodded slowly. "Your father's almost succeeded in what he's tried to do since Jarod escaped."
She raised an eyebrow. "What are you...?"
"Why do you think you were put on the pursuit, Parker? Your father always knew what kind of a person Jarod was and probably suspected that after he escaped he'd provide clues to keep his hunters close - security in a world that he knew nothing about - but make the hints difficult enough to be irritating. And your father knew how quickly you'd get annoyed by it all."
Sydney paused for a moment to take a breath, but something in his eyes stopped the woman from speaking. "Jarod's always tried to reach out to you, to regain the relationship you used to have as children, but the distance imposed by your very different lives made that hard. When he told you that I was dying..."
"How do you know?"
"I asked Henry. Besides, I know Jarod and how he would react in circumstances like that. And I know you. Jarod only did what he was taught do to: he pushed aside his own feelings to help others. If you’ll think back to the first SIM I showed you - the last one he performed inside the Centre," Sydney took another deep breath, "he wouldn't have been able to find out the cause of the plane crash if he'd been focusing on what he felt about it. He was trained to push aside his own feelings and concentrate on those of others - like you."
"That's what he said, too," she admitted grudgingly.
"Parker, do you remember what you said about Jarod when we first went to his room during the first few days of the pursuit, before you found the origami figure of Onysius and I showed you that SIM?"
She nodded, unwilling to repeat her own words, and saw the amused look of comprehension in Sydney's eye.
"You've spent the past five years denying that Jarod could have feelings like a normal person, and then, when he’s trying to hide them so that he can help you to deal with yours, you blame him for not having any." He smiled faintly. "That's not really fair, Parker."
"So what should I do?” she demanded. “When I talked to him, he hung up on me, and we've got no idea where he is now."
"No." Sydney paused thoughtfully. "And you won't find him unless he wants you to."
"Great!" Miss Parker stood up and began to pace the room, glancing over her shoulder at the man in the bed. "So now you're trying to make me feel guilty with no way of getting rid of it? That's exactly what..."
"Parker." Sydney's tone was warning. "Don't say that it's 'exactly what' Jarod's done to you for the last five years, because it isn't."
"So what do I do?" She sank back into the chair beside the bed.
"Get a transfer to Corporate, too."
Her eyes widened. "How on earth...?"
"I heard you and Broots saying something about it. Besides, I've suspected he'd do that ever since I found out they were brothers."
"How did you know?"
"I..." The man tried to take another breath, but he choked and was forced to cough in order to clear his chest. His voice, once he was lying back against the pillow, was weak, but his eyes were still trained on her face. "I spent more than thirty years with one and five with the other. Don't you think I’d be able to spot a few similarities? When I did, I wanted to know why, so I did a little hunting and found out. I've been aware of it for almost as long as they have."
"Broots here."
"Congratulations, little brother. Your transfer finally came through. You start at your new job in Corporate as soon as you get back to the Centre. Oh, and as a bonus, you get every Sunday off to spend with Debbie."
"Jarod, how on earth...?"
"Did I know?"
There was a sound that Broots could tell was meant to be a laugh on the other end, but, being unlike any other noise he had ever heard the pretender make, it rang strangely in his ears and the technician visibly winced.
"If you have the power to read my mind, surely I can read yours. Besides, since Dragon Lady knows now, we don't have any more reason to keep it secret. You aren't the only person who wasn't happy about this situation, you know."
"Jarod, she's..."
"How's Sydney?" the man on the other end interrupted hurriedly.
"He's getting better, Jarod."
"Yes, I thought he would." The voice on the other end became suddenly hard, as if the words were being forced out. "There'll be an ambulance there in two days to drive him back to Blue Cove. If it's too soon, they'll come back next week. It's all been paid for. Or if he wants, he can go to Albany."
"Jarod..." Broots closed his eyes briefly as the dial tone sounded in his ear. Disconnecting the call, he dropped the phone into his pocket and stared blankly out of the window.
