------------------------------

Personal Home on a Secluded Island

“So, Debbie and I stay here?” Broots gestured to the phone he had. “If anyone calls, say you aren’t available unless they call more than twice or it’s urgent?”

“Yep,” Jarod said handing him a phone. “That will reach her. Don’t lose it, Mister Broots. As long as they think she’s merely on sabbatical, everything should be fine.”

“Okay.” Broots looked out toward the open ocean and the huge place in front of him. “This is going to be lonely for awhile. But fun,” he smiled at Miss Parker. “I bet Debbie will love it.”

“Just don’t go crazy.” Miss Parker handed him The Centre card. “Jarod’s funds take care of us, so you take this.” She patted it in his hand. “Order food, entertainment, whatever. Just get through the next four or five months here.”

“Oh, I think we can manage.” Broots looked out into the distance. “This place is huge. Wow.” He turned to look at her again. “You sure you’ll be alright, Miss Parker?”

“She’s with me, of course she’ll be alright,” Jarod said. Okay. So, the defending thing was still a little heavy on his mind. As well as the geek thing. Would she always see him like that? Did he want her to see him differently, or not? Did she still see him like that, even though he wasn’t behind the glass anymore?

“Okay. I’m sure Debbie will love it.” Broots smiled at his daughter as she waved back. She was along the shoreline. He looked back toward Miss Parker. “One last Parker kiss?”

“Later.” Jarod grabbed Miss Parker’s hand. “Our ride is arriving.”

Broots didn’t make for a move, but already felt the phone ring. He handed it to Miss Parker. 

Miss Parker rubbed her eyes. “Great. I’m guessing Las Vegas is out now?” She looked up toward the sky. “I know that plane.”

Jarod stopped her from running off. “Easy, easy. It’s just my dad, and he isn’t going to hurt you.”

“No one in your family is supposed to know where I am at!” she seethed. “That was the deal!” She patted around her dress for any kind of gun. She checked her purse. No gun.

“It was necessary,” Jarod warned her, “and there are no guns. Look, we can’t take The Centre plane, they’ll see it’s in use elsewhere. The only way on and off this island is through a ship, and I don’t have any Pretends set up because I was out in Blue Cove with my mom.”

“No one said you had to stay out there.” She held up his finger toward him as she answered the phone Broots just gave her. “Parker.” She listened. “Duly noted.” She hit end and passed it back to Broots.

“I didn’t want you gone too far from me.” Then, realizing what he said. “Six and a half months in, I’m not losing you at the final stretch, and things are about as horrible as when I first broke out.” He sighed. “My whole schedule of Pretends is a wreck now. I had no choice. Major Charles isn’t going to do anything, I promise.”

“My whole life is a wreck now too, let’s just get this over with,” Miss Parker said. “If he tries to kill me, Jarod, I’ll kill him, I mean it.” She breathed heavy. “Where are we going?”

“Base,” he said. “Who was on the phone?”

“Later, Jarod.”

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Major Charles’ Secret Base

“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Parker,” Gemini greeted her at the door to the cold base. “Come this way, and I’ll show you to your temporary residence.”

Jarod watched as Miss Parker headed away before he looked at his dad. “We’ve got a problem.”

Major Charles sighed. “So, let me just get this straight. The reason we can’t get to your mother, is because of The Triumvirate. It’s not just The Centre base in Africa, it’s a lot more?” Jarod nodded. “And, Miss Parker can’t get away from The Centre without having an evil clone of you, actually come out and hurt people you’ve helped in your Pretends?” He shook his head. “But, you can’t just let her stay because those kids are not going to stay in The Centre. But she has to, or you suffer. This is.” He rubbed his ear. “This is bad.”

“Not only that. Kyle too.”

“Out there, in a jungle, only getting away by doing Sims.” Major Charles shoved his hands in his pockets. “Jarod, this is hell. There’s no way out that’s going to make anyone happy. If she stays . . . we have to get the kids.”

“That’s what she fears,” Jarod whispered. “I can’t do that. I can’t abandon them, but they can’t stay in The Centre.” His nostril flared. “Not only that, they are making her get married.”

Major Charles shrugged. “That’s not a big deal.” He looked back toward Jarod. “Is it?”

Jarod scratched the back of his neck. “ . . . no.”

“Jarod? What is it?”

“Nothing, dad.” Jarod looked back at him. “I have to find my clone. I have to . . .”

“You’re going to have to kill him,” Major Charles said. “Can you do that?”

“I did it once.” Jarod looked out the window of the door. Endless snow. “I don’t want to end anyone’s life, but he’s dangerous. Too dangerous. If I can finish him, then Miss Parker can stay with me.”

“Jarod.” The Major looked at him. “From what you told me, he’s not going to anger you at the time you need to shoot him. It won’t be like before, when someone’s life is on the line. Can you do this?”

“I have to. If I don’t, he’ll just get away, and come right back,” Jarod said.

“What if you just hit him in particular spots, handicapping him for life?” The Major suggested.

Jarod shook his head. “If he’s not useful, The Triumvirate will just kill him. Or, he’ll be out in some jungle, unable to defend himself when a lion eats him alive or something.” He looked back to his dad. “That would be more cruel. He was created that way, not born that way. I don’t want to make it any more cruel than I have to.”

“Alright, well, over here.” Major Charles gestured to the computer. “We know a lot about The Centre, but there’s never been that much on the Triumvirate. Do you have any kind of map of it?”

“I visited it once to release Miss Parker,” Jarod said as he started to search through his father’s computer. “Mom said that was just a small part of it. All I know is, everything that I’ve heard of it, it’s more than just a reproduction of The Centre in Africa.” He sighed. “There isn’t even a map of it. How are we going to find it?”

“Must be one nasty place. I didn’t think anything was worse than The Centre,” Major Charles said. “It’s so secret though.”

“I had full access to the entire Centre when I put myself behind the glass.” Jarod checked the computer even deeper, but it seemed fruitless. “Every code, every kidnapping, everything, I had it all. And, not even one map of The Triumvirate.” Jarod looked toward his dad. “All I found were a few projects here and there joined with them. Where’d you get the chemicals?”

“Another small part. Miss Parker had told us about it. Well, Emily.” Major Charles looked toward the room Gemini took her too. “So she’s been hunting you to save you from The Triumvirate?”

“Yeah.”

“Does that make her a good guy?” Major Charles asked. “She did a lot of stuff, Jarod. A lot of stuff.”

Jarod rubbed his head and kept looking. “I know, dad. She did what she thought was best.”

“Do you forgive her for it?”

Jarod nodded. “I’ve . . . never been able to stay mad at her,” he admitted. “Mom certainly isn’t either.” He looked toward his father, judging whether he should tell him. His mom regretted not telling him that she was a Pretender, but it was her place to tell him or not. No. She should do it.

“Alright, Jarod, but I doubt anything’s going to curb Emily’s feelings,” Major Charles warned him. “You know, if she’s stuck in The Centre, you can’t just let them stay.”

“I . . .” Jarod ignored it. It was the same run around principle. “There’s nothing here, not even in the miscellaneous files.”

“That’s because it doesn’t exist.” Miss Parker glanced toward Major Charles as she came out of her room with Gemini. “Paper, pencil, and pen. I’ll show you the Triumvirate.”

Major Charles grabbed some paper and a pen. Miss Parker quickly took them from him. She drew a crude outline of the whole African continent. “This is Africa.”

“Barely,” Jarod commented.

“Well excuse me for not having the perfect art skills of a Pretender,” she said. “Still better art skills than you did when you first showed up.” She put the pencil down and picked up the pen. She shaded in almost the entire map of Africa, except the dry desert region at the top. “That’s the Triumvirate.”

“All of Africa?” Major Charles took the paper.

“Not the top section. At least, not to my knowledge. Thinking about it, it could be a good place to hide another base,” she said. “For all my knowledge though, that is where it is.”

Jarod took the picture. “How?”

“Hidden, like The Centre tries to be,” Miss Parker said. “There are literally 200 hidden bases just as big and as powerful as The Centre. I’ve visited about 20 in my lifetime. The two main bases are where we share Diplomats. The first is where I was kept, and the second was where I told the woman who’s definitely ready to kill me where the chemicals had been.” She propped herself back up. “Have at it, Boys.” She let the pen roll.

“You visited Pretenders here before,” Jarod said, thinking of a good place to start the search.

“ . . .” She didn’t speak up right away. “Let me see the paper.” She took it back and regrabbed the pen. Where she shaded over everything, she drew three more solid lines. “The Triumvirate is divided into three. Adama’s rule. Mutumbo’s rule. Bhekumbuso’s rule.” She pointed toward the first area. “Adama controls the viral contagions, the memory wiping technologies, the hideous, and the horrid stuff of nightmares. His family line is where re-education first got its name.” She pointed toward the second area. “Mutumbo. Cures. Repairs. Ailments. Most of the technology is more natural, but recovery and healing is the key. Anything Adama creates, Mutumbo must cure, and vice versa.” She pointed to the third area. “Then there’s . . . Bhekumbuso.”

“He died,” Jarod said looking at the area.

“Someone in his family line will take over soon,” she said. “If simply killing three men got rid of everything, someone would have done it a long time ago.” She tapped the area. “His specialty wasn’t chemical, but human. Take a good hard look at what the kids do on SL-26 and you’ve got it.” She took her finger off her crude map. “He’s the one. When he came out to America, he was already suspicious. As soon as he didn’t return, he probably had orders to send out the clone if something happened.”

“He controls the Pretenders.” Jarod looked at the area. Even divided into three, it was still gigantic. “Kyle has to be around there, and so does the clone.”

“And the information about the children of The Centre,” she added.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s even more hiding in there too,” Jarod added looking at Miss Parker. “Do you remember where his base is?”

“I was there, once, when I was twelve,” Miss Parker said. “From Chopper to a little area, and then we had to hike our way in there. Daddy wanted to talk to Bhekumbuso, get some stuff figured out. I looked around . . .” She faded. “I don’t remember anything that could be helpful. Not even the name of the area.”

“Damn.” Major Charles smacked the desk. “It’s almost as big as Africa. Hidden bases, with each one just as powerful as The Centre?”

“Let me guess. In the towns, cities, and wilds, tucked away as ‘think-tanks’,” Jarod said bitterly. He looked toward Miss Parker. “How are we going to get to anyone, if we don’t have any more information?”

“I don’t know. Pretend your way into a main base and see if anyone knows anything?” she suggested.

“I don’t think so. As big as all this is, I have a feeling each contained area is . . . a contained area,” Major Charles said. “Like The Centre.”

“Well do something!” She demanded. “Something. Do something.”

Jarod knew it wouldn’t be solved in a day. “This is going to take time.”

“Well, we don’t get that.” She touched her forehead gently. “That was Adama on the phone, before we left. Lyle isn’t trustworthy for long hauls, he’s been on the unfit list twice. He can watch over The Centre, five days total.”

That wasn’t good. If Jarod didn’t figure out where the Pretenders were, then . . .

 “Where’s the bathroom?” Miss Parker asked Gemini. Gemini guided her.

“Nausea?” The Major asked.

“No.” Jarod tried to look his father in the eye. “Knowledge. That I might not have a choice . . . but to take them.”