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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer; All characters herein (except Rachel) belong to NBC. Please consider this a tribute, not a theft.
Note to the reader; This is part three of a series. Please read the first two parts first or this will make no sense whatsoever. Thank you.
None So Blind
part 3
Sarah Lynn
After losing Jarod in Chicago, Miss Parker didn't hear from him for another five weeks. Rachel and Broots spent all their time surfing the Internet, but so far nothing had come up. Miss Parker was even desperate enough not to raise any objections to Dr. Scott's plan to introduce Rachel to what she called the 'final member of the team.' Miss Parker had almost forgotten that Angelo was officially on the Jarod Project.
If Dr. Scott had hoped for a dramatic meeting, she was disappointed. Angelo was his usual distant self, and though Rachel was her usual polite self, it was clear she didn't believe that Angelo would add anything to the project. The next day Miss Parker returned to G17, more out of curiosity to see how the two were getting along than the hope that Rachel would actually find anything. Which is why it was such a shock to her when Rachel did.
"I think I may have something, Miss Parker," Rachel said, but even as Parker crossed the room she could here the doubt in the pretender's voice.
"What's wrong?"
Rachel was frowning in the general direction of the screen, one hand on her earphones. Angelo was leaning against the wall, staring in fascination at the pretender. Miss Parker ignored him.
"Well, take a look."
Miss Parker looked as bidden. The site had a bright green background and flashing magenta words that almost hurt the eyes. It took Miss Parker a moment to read the heading;
WELCOME TO JAROD'S SITE!!! SEE WHAT I'VE BEEN DOING SINCE I ESCAPED THE
CENTRE!!
"I rather suspect he wanted us to find this site," Rachel said sheepishly.
Parker's brain told her mouth to ask what date the site had been put up, but to her surprise another question came out instead. "How do you know what the screen says?"
Evidently Rachel hadn't been expecting the question either, because it took her a moment to answer.
"Well, my program reads the words off the screen into my headphones. That technology is available to the public, but my program also reads the codes and options as well. And I can use a keyboard to input commands rather than a mouse click. Those are the generalities of it; there's a lot more little, specific things as well, but you get the main idea."
"Yes," Parker said even more briskly than usual, annoyed with herself for wasting time on a trivial question. "When was this site put up?" she asked in her normal voice, glowering at the gaudy image before her.
"I don't know yet. It hasn't finished loading and I can't read the . .." Rachel trailed off as her eyes widened in shock.
"What!" Miss Parker exclaimed. Rachel turned her head back to the screen, and Miss Parker looked to see a new message underneath the first phrase;
A SPECIAL WELCOME IS EXTENDED TO RACHEL OF ERYLL'S TOWER, IL!
"Is that . . ."
"Me." Rachel said weakly.
Parker straightened up sharply. "How did he find you? And what's Eryll's Tower?" she asked, angry that once again Jarod seemed to know more about her life than she did.
"I don't know. A building in Illinois." It occurred to Parker that this pretender was surprised and frightened too at Jarod's seemingly omniscient knowledge of her life.
"Just overlook it," Parker said, trying to sound soothing. "Jarod's trying to distract you from your work."
"Yes," Rachel gave her head a small shake and leaned back in her chair. Parker assumed that she was refocusing on the site. A few moments later her assumption was confirmed when Rachel said in her normal voice; "This site was posted yesterday."
"Anything else?" Parker demanded.
A few more taps at the keyboard. "No. Jarod was careful when he built this site."
Miss Parker stalked angrily away to what had become her chair at the table on the other side of the room. "So you're saying this is just another joke."
"Well, yes, but not necessarily a waste of time," Rachel was frowning in concentration. "If I were Jarod, collecting information on a new factor, I'd go to Eryll Tower myself to look."
"Excellent," the compliment slipped out while Parker was distracted with deciding what to do next. "Eryll Tower is, I assume, where you grew up?" After an affirmative from Rachel Miss Parker went on; "Where exactly is it?"
"I don't know," Rachel said, a surprised tone in her voice. "You'd have to ask Dr. Scott." Parker mentally kicked herself. Of course Rachel didn't know. She probably didn't even know it was in Illinois.
"I will," and Miss Parker strode toward the door. "Keep working on this. If you find anything new you can reach me on my cell phone."
"Ah, Miss Parker?" The pretender's voice stopped Miss Parker as she was running her ID card through the lock on the door. "I don't have a phone."
"It's connected to the Internet," Miss Parker replied, and turned away again, but was stopped a second time.
"Is it?" Rachel's voice projected her interest. "I didn't know of that technology. Could I see-"
"Later," Miss Parker snapped and shut the door before Rachel could say anything else. Still, she was almost pleased at the question as she went down the hall. Between Jarod's smug, know-it-all attitude and Rachel's quiet confidence, she had almost begun to believe that pretenders were omniscient.
---
It took almost an hour of phone calls, threats, and bargaining to get the exact location of the Centre's annex in Illinois, but at long last Miss Parker got it. She returned to G17 to bring Rachel up to speed, and was surprised to find Rachel sitting at the table across from Lyle. Her surprise turned to irritation when she realized that Lyle was sitting in her chair.
"Taking a break, Rachel?" Miss Parker inquired sweetly. Rachel almost turned her chair over in her haste to stand.
"Oh, Miss Parker, I'm sorry-" Parker cut off the pretender's apology.
"It's fine. Eryll's Tower is a building complex on the northeast edge of Springfield. See what you can do with that." Rachel moved quickly back to her computer, and Miss Parker took the seat she left vacant. Lyle smiled at her.
"Nice to see you trust me enough to tell me what you're looking for," he said softly after waiting for Rachel to put on her headphones and begin tapping at the keyboard.
Miss Parker matched his smile and level of volume in her reply, "Hardly. How much time did you spend with Rachel? You probably already got all the information she knows out of her."
Lyle's broader smile confirmed her guess. "I can't help it if she trusts me," he said smugly, leaning back in his chair and looking at Rachel. Parker allowed herself a smug smile of her own as she remembered Rachel's words to her on the last case. Lyle was blinder than Rachel if he thought the pretender trusted him. She leaned back herself to wait.
"Jarod Lincoln, checked into a Thrifty Traveler through January 15th," Rachel finally announced. Lyle checked his watch.
"That's the day after tomorrow," he said.
"I guess we'd better go then," Miss Parker snapped; already halfway out the door. "Rachel, take an hour for lunch and then see if you can find anything else," she called over her shoulder.
"It won't work!" All three jumped at the sudden outburst from Angelo. Miss Parker had completely forgotten he was there.
"What won't work?" Lyle snapped.
Angelo buried his head in his hands and started muttering intensely to himself. All Miss Parker could make out were the words "Bad, bad," repeated over and over. She hesitated for another moment, then dismissed the thought and headed for the door.
"Ah, Miss Parker?" Rachel's voice was tense. Miss Parker turned to see the pretender sitting rigidly in her chair, pulled as far away as possible from Angelo. With a sigh Parker went back into the room again, ignoring Lyle as he brushed by her. She stalked over to where Angelo was leaning against the wall.
"Alright, Angelo," she said impatiently. "Visiting hours are over. Let's go." Angelo pushed his head harder into his arms. "Angelo, do I need to get the sweepers?" she asked more loudly. Reluctantly, Angelo lifted his head and looked up at her. Parker stared back angrily. She snapped "Don't think I won't do it," and finally Angelo lurched to his feet. He dragged his feet to the door, never taking his eyes off Rachel, ignoring Parker's angry glare. The empath stopped again at the door, uttered one final "Bad!" and then left, his shoulders hunched like a man who's failed an important task he'd set himself.
"Whatever," Parker muttered. "Now, Rachel-" Rachel jumped nervously. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing."
"Good. Take an hour for lunch, and then keep looking. I believe we've already established how you can contact me." Parker left the pretender still sitting rigidly in front of her computer without guilt. If the girl couldn't handle Angelo, it wasn't Parker's job to comfort her.
Much to Parker's irritation, it took almost two and a half hours to assemble the needed people, much of which was spent waiting for Lyle. Getting a phone call from a secretary who politely informed her that some unexpected business had come up and Mr. Lyle would not be able to make the flight didn't improve her mood. Just before the take-off, her phone started beeping.
"What."
"It's me." Parker sat up slightly at Rachel's quiet voice. "Just calling to say I've got an exact address on that motel." Parker wrote down the information, which included directions on how to get there from the airport.
"I got it. Bye."
"Ah, Miss Parker?"
"What?"
"I, ah, just wanted to say good luck and be careful. Jarod's still got his guard up. You've got everyone there with you to help, right?"
Parker was too tired to explain Lyle's no-show. "Yes."
"Good. I think you'll need everyone."
"Is that it?"
"Um, yes."
"Fine." Miss Parker hung up to find Sydney watching her once again. She arched an eyebrow at him, and he turned away, smiling that irritating smile again. Parker stared out the window for almost the entire trip.
In Springfield Parker, Sydney, and Broots found the motel with relative ease. It was small, but clean. Miss Parker approached the desk clerk with a flat smile.
"Hello, I'm supposed to meet a friend of mine here, a Jarod Lincoln-" she said with forced pleasantness. "-but he forget to tell me what room he's in. Could you just look that up for me?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't give out that information," the clerk said brightly and cheerfully, in what was no doubt the approved response for Thrifty Travelers clerks to give. "If you like, however, I can ring his room for you."
"That's not necessary," Miss Parker started, but the clerk was already tapping away at her keyboard. She looked up, her forehead creased.
"You did say Jarod Lincoln, right?"
"Yes," Miss Parker glanced around the lobby for any sign of Jarod.
"Spelled like Abraham Lincoln?"
"Yes," Parker said in irritation. "Look, it doesn't matter, I'll-"
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but there's no one here registered under that name." Broots almost dropped the laptop he was carrying and Parker snapped her head around. Sydney didn't react beyond blinking his eyes.
"What do you mean he's not here?" Miss Parker snapped.
"There's no Mr. Lincoln," the clerk repeated with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Perhaps we have the last name wrong," Sydney stepped in. "Would it be possible for you to run a check to see if there are any Jarods here?"
The clerk returned to her keyboard, and tapped a few more keys. A few seconds later she looked up and shook her head.
"Maybe he just checked out," Miss Parker said suddenly. "Check back- Could you check back through your records?" she corrected herself.
"I'm sorry, it would appear that no Jarod Lincoln, no Lincoln, and no Jarod have stayed here since the beginning of this month, which is as far back as my computer records go," the clerk said politely. Miss Parker gave her companions a confused stare, which they returned. After a few seconds, she turned and stormed away.
"I'm sorry you didn't find what you were looking for but I hope you'll come back again real soon," the clerk called after them, still cheerful. Parker whirled and was about to tell the girl her chances of seeing any of them again, but was struck by the eager to please look on her face. The clerk was tall and blond, but Parker was suddenly reminded of-
"Rachel," she said out loud, walking through the parking lot, not seeing where she was going.
"I don't understand," Broots clasped his laptop. "Did she make a mistake?"
But Parker wasn't listening. Thoughts were whirling through her head.
"That seems to be the logical conclusion," Sydney answered Broots. "Remember, just because she's a pretender doesn't make her infallible."
Set a pretender to catch a pretender. Rachel's almost obsequious manner, that low-pitched voice that was so calming to listen to.
"Maybe he's in another Thrifty Traveler."
This was the second time they had traveled on short notice, only to find Jarod gone. Of course, that's always what had happened before, but . ..
"Maybe."
Dr. Scott was spending all her time with the other child, only Parker and Lyle were taking an interest in Rachel. And when they had gone on their last trip, no one had even noticed that the girl hadn't rested or eaten for fifteen hours until they had come back.
"Should I check other motels in this area?"
Rachel had asked just before she left if everyone was on board the plane. And Miss Parker had lied. Rachel didn't know that Lyle was still there.
"Miss Parker?" Broots gingerly tapped her on the shoulder. "I said, should I check the other motels in this area?" Parker ignored him as she pulled out her cell phone. Part of her wasn't surprised to find the screen blinking an error message as she recalled Rachel's interest in the phone.
"Broots, what's wrong with this phone?" she snapped, shoving the phone at him. Broots looked at her blankly. "Take it!" she yelled. Broots fumbled with the phone for a few moments before looking up.
"Is this connected to the Internet?"
"Yes!" it took all Parker's willpower not to bounce up and down in impatience.
After an eternity, Broots looked up again in confusion. "Well," he said with infuriating slowness, "It looks like someone is overloading the Internet portion of your phone with information, but that can't be right. It's never been done before. It would take-"
"A genius," Miss Parker finished for him, already several steps ahead.
"Jarod?" Broots said incredulously.
"No. Rachel." Miss Parker jumped into the car and Broots and Sydney barely made it in before she peeled out.
Parker spent the flight home pacing up and down the aisle while Broots tinkered with the phone. Sydney divided his attention between the two of them.
"Parker, why do you think it was Rachel who jammed your phone?" he finally asked.
"Can't you see, Sydney?" Parker asked in frustration. She had used Sydney's phone to call the Centre and had reached the answering service. If anyone had tried to contact her, she had missed them. Sydney just looked at her blankly. She sighed. "Well, if you can't, maybe I'm wrong." And more than that she would not say.
The Centre was deserted by the time they arrived back. Parker's hand hesitated over the pad in the elevator. Sydney and Broots exchanged a puzzled glance before Miss Parker moved her hand away from SL25 and pushed the button for the floor for their room. She was the only one not surprised to find Angelo sitting in the middle of the floor, rocking back and forth, still muttering "Bad," to himself. Sydney went to him, as Broots automatically started cleaning his desk.
"Going somewhere?" Miss Parker asked pointedly.
Broots looked at her in amazement. "Miss Parker, it's 5:00 in the morning. I need to get home-"
"Not until we've checked on-"
"Miss Parker!" She turned at Sydney's call to see him coaxing something out of Angelo's grip. A DSA. Parker quickly crossed the room, snatched the disc away from Angelo, and started loading it, ignoring the empath's howls of protest. Before Sydney could object in earnest, the DSA started. But instead of the heading they were used to, the recording started with "Rachel, For Centre Use Only."
The scene was a hallway with doors, which looked so different in black and white it took Parker a moment to recognize one door as G17. She closed her eyes as the door suddenly opened and a small figure emerged cautiously, groping her way along the wall.
"Is that-" Broots gasped.
"Shut up," Parker said.
The camera followed the figure as she carefully took measured steps along the hallway until she reached an air vent. She cocked her head to the side, as if listening for anything, and then pulled out something from her pants pocket, which she used to remove the screws from the cover. After a minute, she removed the cover and pulled herself with a small grunt into the air vent. As her shoes disappeared from sight, the picture changed to another air vent cover. Suddenly the cover shuddered, then broke away from the wall as the same pair of shoes burst through. With the care the figure slid down and replaced the cover after her. She walked with more confidence as she moved down the hall and around a corner. The camera changed again to show her coming around the corner, and then freezing.
"Hello, Rachel," Lyle said with a smile as the camera moved back to capture him too.
Rachel instinctively tried to run, but a sweeper was already behind her and pushed her forwards, toward Lyle. The camera angle kept expanding to show Lyle, another sweeper, Mr. Parker, and in the corner, Dr. Scott. She was regarding Rachel with a look of pure hatred.
"How did you know?" Scott asked in a voice pitched as low as Rachel's, but notably lacking in gentleness.
"After I left Rachel's room this afternoon I found that my cell phone was malfunctioning. When the repairman said it was deliberately inflicted damage, I began to wonder. When I discovered my Centre ID card missing from my wallet, things began to fall into place. What's wrong, Rachel?" Lyle asked in mock sympathy. "Did you decide that the honor of being a pretender wasn't for you?" The two sweepers laughed loudly. Rachel flinched but drew herself to her full height, which looked pitifully small beside Lyle's six feet, and kept her face impassive.
"Still, I have to hand it to you," Lyle continued cheerfully, "you're an excellent pickpocket. Especially considering that you've never been able to practice on anyone before me, since Dr. Scott here is the only person you've been in close contact with when you were growing up and she's never reported anything like that." All eyes swiveled away from Rachel to the redhead in the corner whose expression changed for a moment to a guarded one strikingly similar to Rachel's.
"Dr. Scott?" Mr. Parker prompted.
The doctor looked away, then bit her lip and turned back. "When she was twelve I caught her taking a piece of candy from my pocket. However," she hurried desperately, seeing Mr. Parker's expression, "she was severely punished for that and she never picked my pocket again."
"Don't you mean you never caught her picking your pocket again?" Lyle asked with a broad grin.
"I checked my pockets every time I went in and out of her room for a year after that," Scott sniffed, trying to regain some of what she had lost.
"Yes, but that only works if you were assuming Rachel was stealing. What if she was just practicing, taking things out of your pockets and putting them back in before you noticed?" Lyle pressed. Dr. Scott's face paled. "In fact, it would seem a lot of your assumptions about Rachel are wrong." The doctor looked at the girl, and an idea bloomed on her face.
"Rachel," Dr. Scott said, forcing some of her old imperiousness back into her voice, "how could you do this?" She pushed past Lyle and approached the pretender, who took a step back and dropped her head. "I hope you're ashamed of yourself. If you think you're going anywhere near your books and computer again for the next month, you've got another think coming." Scott took another step, hope beginning to dawn on her face as the pretender's shoulders began to shake. "How could you try to run away from the Centre, from me, after all I've done for you-"
Dr. Scott was suddenly cut off when Rachel threw her head back in a harsh, bitter laugh. "How much you've done for me?" she cried in fury that almost matched Dr. Scott's earlier expression. It was impossible to compare the two now since Scott's face showed nothing but shock. "How stupid do you think I am? You give these impossible problems that people twice, three times my age can't do, and then expect me to not notice that I'm a slave!"
"Rachel!" Scott grabbed the girl by the arms and shook her. "Don't talk like that!"
Mr. Parker cleared his throat. "I think I've seen all I need to see," he intoned.
Scott turned. "Please, sir," she said with a ghastly smile. "Clearly there are some, ah, flaws with Rachel, but the new child, well, we all learn from our mistakes-"
"Mistakes of this magnitude are unacceptable," Mr. Parker cut her off. "Dr. Jennifer Scott, your services are no longer needed at the Centre. Lyle?"
Rachel caught the meaning before Scott did and flung herself to the floor as the shot rang out. A moment later, Scott also fell on top of the girl. Rachel screamed and pushed the body away, scrambling along the floor until she literally ran into a sweeper, who pulled her up and held her tightly by the shoulders.
"Thank you," Mr. Parker said calmly. "Your request to take control of the Rachel Project has been confirmed. Best of luck." And Mr. Parker walked out of the screen, presumably home, ignoring Rachel's tiny cry of fright.
Lyle walked slowly across the room, letting his footsteps ring. Any composure Rachel had was gone and she struggled desperately to get free of the hands gripping her. Lyle grabbed her chin and held her face still, his own face only inches away. Slowly Rachel's struggles died, but her breathing was still fast and rapid.
"You're mine," he hissed into her face. Rachel stopped breathing for an instant and Lyle let her ride the terror as he brought his face closer to hers . . . Until she suddenly spat in his face. With a howl of rage, Lyle jerked back and slapped her hard across the face. The sweeper let her fall to the ground as Lyle drew back his leg for a kick and
The screen went black.
"WHAT HAPPENED!" Miss Parker screamed.
Broots' fingers flew. "I guess that's the end," he stammered, his eyes wide with horror. "The end of the recording, that is-"
"I know what you meant!" she snapped. "Come on!" She and Sydney ran for the elevator as the DSA began running again. Broots looked at the screen, and for the first time noticed the hour.
"But Miss Parker!" Broots cried after her. "This was recorded at 9:46 last night! It's too late!"
Neither Parker nor Sydney heard. They were already gone.
Note to the reader; This is part three of a series. Please read the first two parts first or this will make no sense whatsoever. Thank you.
part 3
Sarah Lynn
After losing Jarod in Chicago, Miss Parker didn't hear from him for another five weeks. Rachel and Broots spent all their time surfing the Internet, but so far nothing had come up. Miss Parker was even desperate enough not to raise any objections to Dr. Scott's plan to introduce Rachel to what she called the 'final member of the team.' Miss Parker had almost forgotten that Angelo was officially on the Jarod Project.
If Dr. Scott had hoped for a dramatic meeting, she was disappointed. Angelo was his usual distant self, and though Rachel was her usual polite self, it was clear she didn't believe that Angelo would add anything to the project. The next day Miss Parker returned to G17, more out of curiosity to see how the two were getting along than the hope that Rachel would actually find anything. Which is why it was such a shock to her when Rachel did.
"I think I may have something, Miss Parker," Rachel said, but even as Parker crossed the room she could here the doubt in the pretender's voice.
"What's wrong?"
Rachel was frowning in the general direction of the screen, one hand on her earphones. Angelo was leaning against the wall, staring in fascination at the pretender. Miss Parker ignored him.
"Well, take a look."
Miss Parker looked as bidden. The site had a bright green background and flashing magenta words that almost hurt the eyes. It took Miss Parker a moment to read the heading;
WELCOME TO JAROD'S SITE!!! SEE WHAT I'VE BEEN DOING SINCE I ESCAPED THE
CENTRE!!
"I rather suspect he wanted us to find this site," Rachel said sheepishly.
Parker's brain told her mouth to ask what date the site had been put up, but to her surprise another question came out instead. "How do you know what the screen says?"
Evidently Rachel hadn't been expecting the question either, because it took her a moment to answer.
"Well, my program reads the words off the screen into my headphones. That technology is available to the public, but my program also reads the codes and options as well. And I can use a keyboard to input commands rather than a mouse click. Those are the generalities of it; there's a lot more little, specific things as well, but you get the main idea."
"Yes," Parker said even more briskly than usual, annoyed with herself for wasting time on a trivial question. "When was this site put up?" she asked in her normal voice, glowering at the gaudy image before her.
"I don't know yet. It hasn't finished loading and I can't read the . .." Rachel trailed off as her eyes widened in shock.
"What!" Miss Parker exclaimed. Rachel turned her head back to the screen, and Miss Parker looked to see a new message underneath the first phrase;
A SPECIAL WELCOME IS EXTENDED TO RACHEL OF ERYLL'S TOWER, IL!
"Is that . . ."
"Me." Rachel said weakly.
Parker straightened up sharply. "How did he find you? And what's Eryll's Tower?" she asked, angry that once again Jarod seemed to know more about her life than she did.
"I don't know. A building in Illinois." It occurred to Parker that this pretender was surprised and frightened too at Jarod's seemingly omniscient knowledge of her life.
"Just overlook it," Parker said, trying to sound soothing. "Jarod's trying to distract you from your work."
"Yes," Rachel gave her head a small shake and leaned back in her chair. Parker assumed that she was refocusing on the site. A few moments later her assumption was confirmed when Rachel said in her normal voice; "This site was posted yesterday."
"Anything else?" Parker demanded.
A few more taps at the keyboard. "No. Jarod was careful when he built this site."
Miss Parker stalked angrily away to what had become her chair at the table on the other side of the room. "So you're saying this is just another joke."
"Well, yes, but not necessarily a waste of time," Rachel was frowning in concentration. "If I were Jarod, collecting information on a new factor, I'd go to Eryll Tower myself to look."
"Excellent," the compliment slipped out while Parker was distracted with deciding what to do next. "Eryll Tower is, I assume, where you grew up?" After an affirmative from Rachel Miss Parker went on; "Where exactly is it?"
"I don't know," Rachel said, a surprised tone in her voice. "You'd have to ask Dr. Scott." Parker mentally kicked herself. Of course Rachel didn't know. She probably didn't even know it was in Illinois.
"I will," and Miss Parker strode toward the door. "Keep working on this. If you find anything new you can reach me on my cell phone."
"Ah, Miss Parker?" The pretender's voice stopped Miss Parker as she was running her ID card through the lock on the door. "I don't have a phone."
"It's connected to the Internet," Miss Parker replied, and turned away again, but was stopped a second time.
"Is it?" Rachel's voice projected her interest. "I didn't know of that technology. Could I see-"
"Later," Miss Parker snapped and shut the door before Rachel could say anything else. Still, she was almost pleased at the question as she went down the hall. Between Jarod's smug, know-it-all attitude and Rachel's quiet confidence, she had almost begun to believe that pretenders were omniscient.
---
It took almost an hour of phone calls, threats, and bargaining to get the exact location of the Centre's annex in Illinois, but at long last Miss Parker got it. She returned to G17 to bring Rachel up to speed, and was surprised to find Rachel sitting at the table across from Lyle. Her surprise turned to irritation when she realized that Lyle was sitting in her chair.
"Taking a break, Rachel?" Miss Parker inquired sweetly. Rachel almost turned her chair over in her haste to stand.
"Oh, Miss Parker, I'm sorry-" Parker cut off the pretender's apology.
"It's fine. Eryll's Tower is a building complex on the northeast edge of Springfield. See what you can do with that." Rachel moved quickly back to her computer, and Miss Parker took the seat she left vacant. Lyle smiled at her.
"Nice to see you trust me enough to tell me what you're looking for," he said softly after waiting for Rachel to put on her headphones and begin tapping at the keyboard.
Miss Parker matched his smile and level of volume in her reply, "Hardly. How much time did you spend with Rachel? You probably already got all the information she knows out of her."
Lyle's broader smile confirmed her guess. "I can't help it if she trusts me," he said smugly, leaning back in his chair and looking at Rachel. Parker allowed herself a smug smile of her own as she remembered Rachel's words to her on the last case. Lyle was blinder than Rachel if he thought the pretender trusted him. She leaned back herself to wait.
"Jarod Lincoln, checked into a Thrifty Traveler through January 15th," Rachel finally announced. Lyle checked his watch.
"That's the day after tomorrow," he said.
"I guess we'd better go then," Miss Parker snapped; already halfway out the door. "Rachel, take an hour for lunch and then see if you can find anything else," she called over her shoulder.
"It won't work!" All three jumped at the sudden outburst from Angelo. Miss Parker had completely forgotten he was there.
"What won't work?" Lyle snapped.
Angelo buried his head in his hands and started muttering intensely to himself. All Miss Parker could make out were the words "Bad, bad," repeated over and over. She hesitated for another moment, then dismissed the thought and headed for the door.
"Ah, Miss Parker?" Rachel's voice was tense. Miss Parker turned to see the pretender sitting rigidly in her chair, pulled as far away as possible from Angelo. With a sigh Parker went back into the room again, ignoring Lyle as he brushed by her. She stalked over to where Angelo was leaning against the wall.
"Alright, Angelo," she said impatiently. "Visiting hours are over. Let's go." Angelo pushed his head harder into his arms. "Angelo, do I need to get the sweepers?" she asked more loudly. Reluctantly, Angelo lifted his head and looked up at her. Parker stared back angrily. She snapped "Don't think I won't do it," and finally Angelo lurched to his feet. He dragged his feet to the door, never taking his eyes off Rachel, ignoring Parker's angry glare. The empath stopped again at the door, uttered one final "Bad!" and then left, his shoulders hunched like a man who's failed an important task he'd set himself.
"Whatever," Parker muttered. "Now, Rachel-" Rachel jumped nervously. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing."
"Good. Take an hour for lunch, and then keep looking. I believe we've already established how you can contact me." Parker left the pretender still sitting rigidly in front of her computer without guilt. If the girl couldn't handle Angelo, it wasn't Parker's job to comfort her.
Much to Parker's irritation, it took almost two and a half hours to assemble the needed people, much of which was spent waiting for Lyle. Getting a phone call from a secretary who politely informed her that some unexpected business had come up and Mr. Lyle would not be able to make the flight didn't improve her mood. Just before the take-off, her phone started beeping.
"What."
"It's me." Parker sat up slightly at Rachel's quiet voice. "Just calling to say I've got an exact address on that motel." Parker wrote down the information, which included directions on how to get there from the airport.
"I got it. Bye."
"Ah, Miss Parker?"
"What?"
"I, ah, just wanted to say good luck and be careful. Jarod's still got his guard up. You've got everyone there with you to help, right?"
Parker was too tired to explain Lyle's no-show. "Yes."
"Good. I think you'll need everyone."
"Is that it?"
"Um, yes."
"Fine." Miss Parker hung up to find Sydney watching her once again. She arched an eyebrow at him, and he turned away, smiling that irritating smile again. Parker stared out the window for almost the entire trip.
In Springfield Parker, Sydney, and Broots found the motel with relative ease. It was small, but clean. Miss Parker approached the desk clerk with a flat smile.
"Hello, I'm supposed to meet a friend of mine here, a Jarod Lincoln-" she said with forced pleasantness. "-but he forget to tell me what room he's in. Could you just look that up for me?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't give out that information," the clerk said brightly and cheerfully, in what was no doubt the approved response for Thrifty Travelers clerks to give. "If you like, however, I can ring his room for you."
"That's not necessary," Miss Parker started, but the clerk was already tapping away at her keyboard. She looked up, her forehead creased.
"You did say Jarod Lincoln, right?"
"Yes," Miss Parker glanced around the lobby for any sign of Jarod.
"Spelled like Abraham Lincoln?"
"Yes," Parker said in irritation. "Look, it doesn't matter, I'll-"
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but there's no one here registered under that name." Broots almost dropped the laptop he was carrying and Parker snapped her head around. Sydney didn't react beyond blinking his eyes.
"What do you mean he's not here?" Miss Parker snapped.
"There's no Mr. Lincoln," the clerk repeated with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Perhaps we have the last name wrong," Sydney stepped in. "Would it be possible for you to run a check to see if there are any Jarods here?"
The clerk returned to her keyboard, and tapped a few more keys. A few seconds later she looked up and shook her head.
"Maybe he just checked out," Miss Parker said suddenly. "Check back- Could you check back through your records?" she corrected herself.
"I'm sorry, it would appear that no Jarod Lincoln, no Lincoln, and no Jarod have stayed here since the beginning of this month, which is as far back as my computer records go," the clerk said politely. Miss Parker gave her companions a confused stare, which they returned. After a few seconds, she turned and stormed away.
"I'm sorry you didn't find what you were looking for but I hope you'll come back again real soon," the clerk called after them, still cheerful. Parker whirled and was about to tell the girl her chances of seeing any of them again, but was struck by the eager to please look on her face. The clerk was tall and blond, but Parker was suddenly reminded of-
"Rachel," she said out loud, walking through the parking lot, not seeing where she was going.
"I don't understand," Broots clasped his laptop. "Did she make a mistake?"
But Parker wasn't listening. Thoughts were whirling through her head.
"That seems to be the logical conclusion," Sydney answered Broots. "Remember, just because she's a pretender doesn't make her infallible."
Set a pretender to catch a pretender. Rachel's almost obsequious manner, that low-pitched voice that was so calming to listen to.
"Maybe he's in another Thrifty Traveler."
This was the second time they had traveled on short notice, only to find Jarod gone. Of course, that's always what had happened before, but . ..
"Maybe."
Dr. Scott was spending all her time with the other child, only Parker and Lyle were taking an interest in Rachel. And when they had gone on their last trip, no one had even noticed that the girl hadn't rested or eaten for fifteen hours until they had come back.
"Should I check other motels in this area?"
Rachel had asked just before she left if everyone was on board the plane. And Miss Parker had lied. Rachel didn't know that Lyle was still there.
"Miss Parker?" Broots gingerly tapped her on the shoulder. "I said, should I check the other motels in this area?" Parker ignored him as she pulled out her cell phone. Part of her wasn't surprised to find the screen blinking an error message as she recalled Rachel's interest in the phone.
"Broots, what's wrong with this phone?" she snapped, shoving the phone at him. Broots looked at her blankly. "Take it!" she yelled. Broots fumbled with the phone for a few moments before looking up.
"Is this connected to the Internet?"
"Yes!" it took all Parker's willpower not to bounce up and down in impatience.
After an eternity, Broots looked up again in confusion. "Well," he said with infuriating slowness, "It looks like someone is overloading the Internet portion of your phone with information, but that can't be right. It's never been done before. It would take-"
"A genius," Miss Parker finished for him, already several steps ahead.
"Jarod?" Broots said incredulously.
"No. Rachel." Miss Parker jumped into the car and Broots and Sydney barely made it in before she peeled out.
Parker spent the flight home pacing up and down the aisle while Broots tinkered with the phone. Sydney divided his attention between the two of them.
"Parker, why do you think it was Rachel who jammed your phone?" he finally asked.
"Can't you see, Sydney?" Parker asked in frustration. She had used Sydney's phone to call the Centre and had reached the answering service. If anyone had tried to contact her, she had missed them. Sydney just looked at her blankly. She sighed. "Well, if you can't, maybe I'm wrong." And more than that she would not say.
The Centre was deserted by the time they arrived back. Parker's hand hesitated over the pad in the elevator. Sydney and Broots exchanged a puzzled glance before Miss Parker moved her hand away from SL25 and pushed the button for the floor for their room. She was the only one not surprised to find Angelo sitting in the middle of the floor, rocking back and forth, still muttering "Bad," to himself. Sydney went to him, as Broots automatically started cleaning his desk.
"Going somewhere?" Miss Parker asked pointedly.
Broots looked at her in amazement. "Miss Parker, it's 5:00 in the morning. I need to get home-"
"Not until we've checked on-"
"Miss Parker!" She turned at Sydney's call to see him coaxing something out of Angelo's grip. A DSA. Parker quickly crossed the room, snatched the disc away from Angelo, and started loading it, ignoring the empath's howls of protest. Before Sydney could object in earnest, the DSA started. But instead of the heading they were used to, the recording started with "Rachel, For Centre Use Only."
The scene was a hallway with doors, which looked so different in black and white it took Parker a moment to recognize one door as G17. She closed her eyes as the door suddenly opened and a small figure emerged cautiously, groping her way along the wall.
"Is that-" Broots gasped.
"Shut up," Parker said.
The camera followed the figure as she carefully took measured steps along the hallway until she reached an air vent. She cocked her head to the side, as if listening for anything, and then pulled out something from her pants pocket, which she used to remove the screws from the cover. After a minute, she removed the cover and pulled herself with a small grunt into the air vent. As her shoes disappeared from sight, the picture changed to another air vent cover. Suddenly the cover shuddered, then broke away from the wall as the same pair of shoes burst through. With the care the figure slid down and replaced the cover after her. She walked with more confidence as she moved down the hall and around a corner. The camera changed again to show her coming around the corner, and then freezing.
"Hello, Rachel," Lyle said with a smile as the camera moved back to capture him too.
Rachel instinctively tried to run, but a sweeper was already behind her and pushed her forwards, toward Lyle. The camera angle kept expanding to show Lyle, another sweeper, Mr. Parker, and in the corner, Dr. Scott. She was regarding Rachel with a look of pure hatred.
"How did you know?" Scott asked in a voice pitched as low as Rachel's, but notably lacking in gentleness.
"After I left Rachel's room this afternoon I found that my cell phone was malfunctioning. When the repairman said it was deliberately inflicted damage, I began to wonder. When I discovered my Centre ID card missing from my wallet, things began to fall into place. What's wrong, Rachel?" Lyle asked in mock sympathy. "Did you decide that the honor of being a pretender wasn't for you?" The two sweepers laughed loudly. Rachel flinched but drew herself to her full height, which looked pitifully small beside Lyle's six feet, and kept her face impassive.
"Still, I have to hand it to you," Lyle continued cheerfully, "you're an excellent pickpocket. Especially considering that you've never been able to practice on anyone before me, since Dr. Scott here is the only person you've been in close contact with when you were growing up and she's never reported anything like that." All eyes swiveled away from Rachel to the redhead in the corner whose expression changed for a moment to a guarded one strikingly similar to Rachel's.
"Dr. Scott?" Mr. Parker prompted.
The doctor looked away, then bit her lip and turned back. "When she was twelve I caught her taking a piece of candy from my pocket. However," she hurried desperately, seeing Mr. Parker's expression, "she was severely punished for that and she never picked my pocket again."
"Don't you mean you never caught her picking your pocket again?" Lyle asked with a broad grin.
"I checked my pockets every time I went in and out of her room for a year after that," Scott sniffed, trying to regain some of what she had lost.
"Yes, but that only works if you were assuming Rachel was stealing. What if she was just practicing, taking things out of your pockets and putting them back in before you noticed?" Lyle pressed. Dr. Scott's face paled. "In fact, it would seem a lot of your assumptions about Rachel are wrong." The doctor looked at the girl, and an idea bloomed on her face.
"Rachel," Dr. Scott said, forcing some of her old imperiousness back into her voice, "how could you do this?" She pushed past Lyle and approached the pretender, who took a step back and dropped her head. "I hope you're ashamed of yourself. If you think you're going anywhere near your books and computer again for the next month, you've got another think coming." Scott took another step, hope beginning to dawn on her face as the pretender's shoulders began to shake. "How could you try to run away from the Centre, from me, after all I've done for you-"
Dr. Scott was suddenly cut off when Rachel threw her head back in a harsh, bitter laugh. "How much you've done for me?" she cried in fury that almost matched Dr. Scott's earlier expression. It was impossible to compare the two now since Scott's face showed nothing but shock. "How stupid do you think I am? You give these impossible problems that people twice, three times my age can't do, and then expect me to not notice that I'm a slave!"
"Rachel!" Scott grabbed the girl by the arms and shook her. "Don't talk like that!"
Mr. Parker cleared his throat. "I think I've seen all I need to see," he intoned.
Scott turned. "Please, sir," she said with a ghastly smile. "Clearly there are some, ah, flaws with Rachel, but the new child, well, we all learn from our mistakes-"
"Mistakes of this magnitude are unacceptable," Mr. Parker cut her off. "Dr. Jennifer Scott, your services are no longer needed at the Centre. Lyle?"
Rachel caught the meaning before Scott did and flung herself to the floor as the shot rang out. A moment later, Scott also fell on top of the girl. Rachel screamed and pushed the body away, scrambling along the floor until she literally ran into a sweeper, who pulled her up and held her tightly by the shoulders.
"Thank you," Mr. Parker said calmly. "Your request to take control of the Rachel Project has been confirmed. Best of luck." And Mr. Parker walked out of the screen, presumably home, ignoring Rachel's tiny cry of fright.
Lyle walked slowly across the room, letting his footsteps ring. Any composure Rachel had was gone and she struggled desperately to get free of the hands gripping her. Lyle grabbed her chin and held her face still, his own face only inches away. Slowly Rachel's struggles died, but her breathing was still fast and rapid.
"You're mine," he hissed into her face. Rachel stopped breathing for an instant and Lyle let her ride the terror as he brought his face closer to hers . . . Until she suddenly spat in his face. With a howl of rage, Lyle jerked back and slapped her hard across the face. The sweeper let her fall to the ground as Lyle drew back his leg for a kick and
The screen went black.
"WHAT HAPPENED!" Miss Parker screamed.
Broots' fingers flew. "I guess that's the end," he stammered, his eyes wide with horror. "The end of the recording, that is-"
"I know what you meant!" she snapped. "Come on!" She and Sydney ran for the elevator as the DSA began running again. Broots looked at the screen, and for the first time noticed the hour.
"But Miss Parker!" Broots cried after her. "This was recorded at 9:46 last night! It's too late!"
Neither Parker nor Sydney heard. They were already gone.
