Promises Kept

DFW International Airport
Dallas, Texas

"The plane," Morgan remarked with mock-disinterest, "has just landed."

Jarod picked up a napkin from the table and wiped the remainder of the chocolate ice cream from Gabriel's face, as Morgan waved over a waiter to pay their bill. After cleaning similar smears of strawberry from Raphael's cheeks, Jarod pushed the plates into the middle of the table and then lifted the two boys down from the raised chairs on which they sat. Looking around instinctively for his cane, he grinned at the remembrance that he no longer needed it, before swinging his leather jacket over his shoulders. Morgan, meanwhile, had paid for the drinks and ice creams. The group left the café and headed for the doors through which the passengers from the flight would appear.

Jordan and Merritt had begged to fly back first class, instead of going in one of Sebastian's jets, and Jarod and Morgan had finally agreed. It had been child's play to arrange for two of the men at Pele's Brisbane office to fly to America at company expense, with a short stopover in Melbourne on the way, to ensure that nothing went wrong during the flight. Pele staff that neither Jordan nor Merritt knew would meet the Australian men, and the young people would never need to know that they had been chaperoned, unless, of course, something went wrong. As there had been no messages received before or during the flight, it was assumed that nothing had.

The two boys were just beginning to get fidgety when the doors slid open and the first passengers exited. Jarod glimpsed the 'MEL' tag on someone's suitcase and knew that they would probably have been from the same flight, picking up Gabriel as Morgan took her baby brother in her arms, to prevent him being swept away in the rush.

"Daddy," Gabriel complained. "How come dey's takin' so long?"

Jarod grinned at the boy's impatience, trying to suppress his own. "Just a little longer, honey."

"It's takin' ages!" his son moaned.

Suddenly there was a yelp from Raphael, who wriggled frantically in Morgan's arms. She took a firmer hold of him, even as she began walking towards the end of the barrier. Jarod followed her in time to see the familiar face of his son, pushing a luggage trolley with one hand, the other around Merritt's back. The man couldn't help grinning, even as he hurried forward in time to see Merritt rush into Morgan's arms.

"Hey there, stranger," he remarked in Jordan's ear, seeing his son turn with a delighted grin.

"Hi, Dad!" Jordan's arms came around him in a firm hug, with care for Gabriel, who was looking a little pop-eyed when he was able to throw himself at his brother.

"Jo-den!" Gabriel beamed, placing an obviously wet kiss on his brother's cheek, which Jarod was pleased to see that his son didn't wipe away.

Jarod ushered the group out of the way of the people coming through the doors before he had the chance to greet Merritt. The young woman was now only an inch or two shorter than Morgan and was darkly tanned, as was Jordan, from her time in the Australian sun.

"It was a long flight," she complained, trying to smooth the hair Raphael's enthusiastic embrace had ruffled, while hanging on to him with the other arm as he cuddled her around the neck.

"Well, you would insist on taking a public plane," Jarod teased. "If you'd gone on the jet, it would have been direct -- and a lot quicker."

"First class was great," Jordan enthused, handing Gabriel to Morgan, as Jarod took charge of the luggage trolley on which the two cases and small cabin bags stood. "Real silver cutlery and china plates, and a proper bed!"

"As opposed to the flight you took over there," Morgan remarked lightly, "which had a real dining table and your own bedrooms."

Merritt giggled. "They were both great, just too long," she offered, her accent notably foreign and familiar to Jarod's ears. "Australia's great, but it's so far away!"

They exited the building, and a man standing beside a limousine, which stood by the main door, immediately opened the car's rear door, taking control of the trolley from Jarod and hefting the cases into the trunk as the travelers took their cabin bags. The group got into the car, which left the airport, heading for the Prometheus building, as the occupants began to talk about the previous few months.

Jarod looked Morgan, with Merritt beside her and Raphael in a booster seat, his face turned up to the young woman, his delight at her being back obvious in his eyes. Merritt kept her left arm around his waist, tightening it occasionally in a hug, and on one of these occasions Jarod saw the gold band on her forth finger, a small diamond gleaming in the dim light. He looked sharply at his elder son, who sat on the same seat, Gabriel between them, and could feel the happiness in Jordan's heart, tempered by his sadness over Jacob, but it was tolerable now, and Jordan could move on from that tragedy. It was obvious, however, that he would not have go on alone, and Jarod decided to remove any potential barriers that might stand in the way of their happiness.

"What did you bring me?" Gabriel demanded at this juncture, and Jordan grinned.

"Who said I brought you anything, little brother?"

"You promised!" the boy whined, and Jordan chuckled.

"I did promise, you're right," he agreed, hefting his bag onto the seat and opening it. Pulling out a gift, he put it on Gabriel's lap, taking out a similar one for Raphael.

The younger child eagerly ripped off the paper, turning the stuffed animal around to look at the face and turning confused eyes up to his brother.

"What is it?"

"It's a koala, Gabriel," Jordan explained. "Some people call it a koala bear, even though it isn't a member of the bear family." He pointed out the claws and the large, round ears. "It sits in trees all day, and eats leaves."

"What's mine?" Raphael asked Merritt, as he pulled the paper away from his brown toy, and she smiled.

"This is a kangaroo, Raffi," she explained. "It's got strong legs to jump, and a pouch to carry its babies in." She showed him the soft pouch, before reaching into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out her purse, extracting a photo. "See, that's me feeding the kangaroos that lived around the house where I was staying."

Raphael's blue eyes were wide as he looked at the photo. "Dey's big!" he proclaimed, and Merritt agreed, handing the photo to Morgan.

Jarod leaned over to speak quietly in his son's ear. "I hope you got something for every child."

Jordan nodded. "Eight different toys -- one each."

The older man smiled approbation, even as Gabriel eagerly reclaimed his brother's attention with demands to be told more about the koala.

* * * * * * * * *

Die Fakultat
Berlin, Germany

"Sir?"

Frederick Hohmann tapped lightly on the office door, glancing over his shoulder at Maria, who was sitting at her desk. "Have you talked to Herr Winston this morning?"

"No, sir," she answered readily. "But I don't usually see him 'till after nine, and it's only eight thirty now. He gets in earlier than I do, most days."

He nodded, placing his hand on the doorknob and, after a moment of hesitation, turning it. It was a thing he would never have dreamt of doing when the old Direktor was in power, but, thankfully, those days were now gone. When the silence from the office continued, he pushed the door wide, breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening as he saw the man draped across the desk.

"Is he there?" Maria's voice asked, and he felt her move to stand beside him. A choked cry forced itself out of her mouth as she took in the scene, turning horrified blue eyes up to him in his role as the authority figure present, and Frederick responded instantly.

Hurrying over to the desk, he placed two fingers on his boss's neck, although it was obvious from the dried blood on the floor that his death had taken place hours earlier.

"Call the infirmary," he ordered over his shoulder. "Get one of the doctors up here to confirm it."

Looking around the office, he saw that nothing was out of place, apart from the pages on the floor, which the force of Peter Winston's body hitting the desk could have caused. On instinct, he moved over to the filing cabinet, pulling out one of the drawers and flicking through the folders, seeing that the formerly thick file in which information about Lucian had been kept was empty. This only confirmed to the head of security that the depraved former head of the corporation was responsible. Taking out his cell phone, he arranged for increased security for the entrances, despite knowing that Lucian would probably have been gone for some time.

Two men from the infirmary appeared in the doorway, and Frederick left the room to go down to his own office and see what he could do to salvage the situation. The first and most important part, he knew, was a further tightening of security.

His deputy was waiting in his office when he arrived, and, from the look on his face, Frederick knew it was more bad news.

"Well, Christian?" he demanded impatiently. "What is it?"

Mr. Schwartz cleared his throat somewhat nervously. "It's Martin Delius."

Frederick's imagination leapt to Yuri and the abduction by Lucian, his head pounding as he tried not to imagine all the complications, but Christian Schwartz continued before he could utter them.

"We found his body in his cell this morning, sir. He was apparently murdered last night."

* * * * * * * * *

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

Elizabeth strolled down the hallway, glancing through the small panes of glass in the doors to see into the rooms she passed, finally stopping outside one and knocking.

"Come in."

The room contained a series of desks, a class facing a whiteboard, on which were written various mathematical equations. The gray-haired teacher stood beside it, and smiled at the visitor.

"What can I do for you, Elizabeth?"

"I want to borrow Cam, if I can," the younger woman responded. There was an instant jeer from the back of the room, and she fixed the perpetrator with a look that would have melted steel. "You watch yourself," she told him sweetly, her eyes lighting briefly on a young woman in the second row of seats, before jumping back to the young man who had made the sound, "or I might let slip about a dream or two you had last night."

In the deathly silence that followed this threat, Cam dropped his pen into the pencil case and put it and the math textbook into his desk, a gleeful grin on his face as he stood and came over to the door.

"My husband said you hadn't done your homework," Elizabeth explained, after shutting the door. "And, as I wanted to talk to you anyway, I thought I'd save you a little embarrassment."

"You're a lifesaver," he told her gratefully.

"I try." She led the way into the lift and then up the residential floor. Trevor was already waiting in the new suite he and his wife shared when they arrived, and Cam curled up in an armchair while the adults sat on the sofa.

"What's up?" the young man queried.

Trevor's brown eyes met Cam's. "Dr. Sydney Ritter," he said calmly. "What do you think of him?"

"Well, he seems nice enough," Cam began cautiously, not entirely sure what Trevor meant.

"You're losing your touch," the psychic remarked drily. "Or else you're just being a smart ass. You know what I mean."

"What makes you think there's anything?" the young man demanded. "I mean, yes, I've picked up a few bits and pieces, but you obviously know something, too, or I wouldn't be in here getting the 3rd degree."

Elizabeth laughed, resting her hands on the arms Trevor had wrapped around her waist, before becoming serious as she spoke. "His dreams are full of his brother, who died a few years ago."

"And that's so unusual?" Cam challenged.

"Wait," the woman told him. "It's not that simple. The conversations they have go beyond what most people can manage with those who've died. It's as if Jacob is still alive."

"Jacob!" The young man was startled. "Was there any connection…?"

"It's possible there was, yes," Trevor agreed sternly. "But it has no relevance, so let's keep to the topic here, so you don't miss more of algebra than you have to."

Cam snorted. "All of it's fine by me." He relaxed back in the chair. "Dr. Ritter is a very perceptive and sensitive person, but like with his dreams, it's not like usual sensitivities. It's almost like he's empathic, but not quite. It's more -- general than that."

"Tastes, smells, sounds," Elizabeth agreed. "Anything that affects the senses."

"ESP," Trevor suggested, but his wife shook her head.

"I think it's too limited to be ESP," she argued. "As I understand ESP, it would allow the individual to know things he wouldn't be able to sense in the normal world. Sydney's dreams suggest he's able to sense things in unusual situations. He might be in a room, for instance, and know what's happening in another, without being able to directly see it." She studied the carpet for a moment, before she looked up again. "There was a time, a few years ago, when he was temporarily blind. If he had ESP, he should still have been able to 'see' things from that time, but his visual memory of the period, at least as far as his dreams show it, is blank."

"Well, that knocks that idea out," her husband remarked.

"Why don't you just ask him?" Cam proposed. "I mean, if you ask him straight out, he'll probably be so surprised at anyone noticing that he'll tell you."

Elizabeth glanced up at her husband and nodded. "He was planning to go back to Blue Cove this morning, I think, so you might want to talk to Sebastian now."

"I will." Trevor kissed Elizabeth's hair and then released her, standing up and stretching. He shot a grin at Cam. "Back to algebra, kiddo."

"Aw, man!" Cam got out of the chair but hesitated, scuffing at the floor with the toe of his sneaker. "Isn't there anything else you want to talk about?"

"No," Elizabeth told him firmly. "Now shoo. I promised I'd go and see Angelique before lunch, and it's nearly 11 now."

Cam moved laggingly to the door, seeing Trevor heading down the corridor, before reluctantly going down the hall to the stairs and jogging up them, back to his math class.

* * * * * * * * *

Blue Cove, Delaware

Broots flipped through the Supernova files and then sorted them into order, before slotting them into one of the filing cabinets that lined the walls. At a knock on the door of his office, he looked up and called for the person to enter. Warwick opened the door and closed it behind himself, approaching the desk and handing over a folder.

"This is the report about the treatment of the Supernova victims," Warwick stated. "We finished the last doses this morning."

"And how's it going?"

"Well." Warwick smiled in satisfaction. "At this stage, we're getting them to write reports on what Lucian had them do. That should be finished in a day or two."

"Good work," Broots stated approvingly, accepting the report. "I'll let you know if there's anything else I need from you."

Warwick nodded and left the office. Broots glanced through the pages, seeing that the antidote Jarod had created for Supernova had worked effectively on all those whom tests had proven had been given the drug. The reports from the Supernova victims would provide further ways to secure the Centre from any further attack, and Broots was working on a report to present to the Board for still more improvements.

The door of his office opened and Kim stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind herself, as she approached the desk.

"How's it going?"

"Fine," he told her somewhat absentmindedly, turning to the computer and making several notes before looking back at her again. "Was there something you wanted?"

"I need a copy of Cox's will about Ammon House, so that I can hand it over to Father Kelly."

"Oh, right." He pulled out the filing cabinet drawer containing the papers pertaining to Ammon House and withdrew the relevant envelope, handing it to her. "This is the original. If you could copy it and bring it back to me, that'd be great."

"Sure thing." She took it, sent a brief grin in his direction and then left the office.

Broots stared after her for a moment before shaking his head slightly and refocusing on his work again. Morgan would be back the following day, and she would expect to see the report before it was submitted to the Board. He could talk to Kim later that night when she came home with him, as she had begun doing on a regular basis, even after Debbie had come back from staying with his brother, but for now Lazslo had to concentrate on his work.

* * * * * * * * *

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

"If only Australia wasn't so far away," Jordan complained, and Jarod nodded in agreement from his prone position on the grass.

"You'll have to save up for another trip, some time in the future, for a honeymoon or something," he teased, seeing Merritt blush red and Jordan intently examine the ground of the custom-made park in which they were sitting. "And in the meantime," he suggested, seeing the young woman smother her third yawn in about ten minutes, "why don't you both go and unpack, and maybe have a nap, before dinner?"

"Sure." Jordan got out of the deckchair in which he had been sitting and waited until Merritt had hugged her mother before taking her hand and strolling back through the dappled light to the gray building that loomed behind them.

Jarod looked at the woman in the deckchair opposite. "That trip obviously achieved its aim."

"It sure did," she agreed. "And I'm glad Merritt was out of the way when Lucian took Yuri. I only wish we'd managed to keep hold of the sick bastard after we got Yuri back."

"No further sightings?" Jarod asked, reaching up to fill her glass from a jug of juice on the picnic table between them.

"Not yet." She sighed, accepting the glass and sipping the contents. "He's probably realized that just about every city has sweepers looking out for him. My guess is he'll probably flee the country, maybe to South America or somewhere."

"There aren't many places he could go," Jarod told her feelingly. "I should know."

"You hardly ever left the USA," she mused. "How come?"

He grinned. "A little thing called a passport, Morgan."

She cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "You forged how many fake IDs in six years?"

"True," he conceded. "Actually, it was really because I didn't want to lose track of what you were up to in Blue Cove. That's a major difference between Lucian and me. He has offices all over the world that he can visit or keep an eye on. I really only had the Centre. That meant I had to stay in the vicinity, so I knew where my trackers were."

Morgan nodded understandingly. "At least it's over now."

Jarod smiled wryly. "Want to know something weird? I actually kind of miss it."

She stared at him in amazement. "You… you miss it?"

"Sometimes, yes," he confessed. "I miss the variety and the tension. It's so quiet around here that there are some days I feel like I'll go insane if I don't do something. I guess," he sighed ruefully, "I just wasn't meant to live a normal life."

He glanced over at the playground equipment Sebastian had had put into the stretch of bare ground that had been converted into a ready-made park for the Seraphim and other residents to enjoy, before casting an eye at the woman who had slipped down to join him on the picnic blanket, thinking that, despite his feelings of impatience, this was as close as he was going to get to his own family, with Gabriel and Raphael playing on the swing nearby.

Morgan reached out to touch the back of her hand to his forehead, her expression concerned but her eyes dancing with laughter. "You're delirious, Jarod! I think we need to call the infirmary."

He chuckled, pulling up some grass and throwing it at her. "I never knew you were the anxious type, except where your -- our son's concerned, of course," he added.

She sighed, her good humor gone. "I really don't want to go back tonight." Reaching forward, she put the glass on the table and then rolled onto her stomach, folded her arms and rested her chin on them, her eyes following her son as the boys ran over to the sandpit. "I'd love to transfer the Seraphim to Blue Cove, just to have Gabriel near me."

"And Sebastian would probably have you shot or something," Jarod told her obligingly. "He was devastated when he first learned about Gideon, but nothing would separate them now."

"Oh, I know it's wishful thinking," she retorted. "And I also know that he's so happy here, it would be cruel to move him back, but I miss him so much."

"When Lucian's out of the way," Jarod suggested, "you could probably run the Centre from here. Make us a permanent partner and move here. Sydney would probably come here, too, to be near you, Angelo and his grandchildren."

"And you," she added quickly, before looking thoughtful. "Do you really think I could run it from here?"

"Sebastian runs all his companies from here, and he's got plenty," Jarod replied immediately. "He spends his morning in meetings, and then his afternoons are free to spend with his son, or that's what happens on most days. I don't see why it should be any different with you. The Centre has an office here in Dallas, and you could move the major hub down here, if you were worried about losing control, being so far away." He grinned. "I know Broots would love the idea. Ramona told me what he said when the three of you came down here, before Gabriel and the others were rescued."

She smiled. "I'm sure he'd be happy, as long as I transferred Kim with him."

"They're really serious about that, huh?"

"Absolutely." She nodded. "And even better, Debbie thinks Kim's great. If they ever take it further, and I'm pretty sure Broots wants to, she'd probably love to have Kim as a step-mom."

"I'm glad." Jarod looked solemn. "Debbie deserves that sort of stability in her life."

"Yes," Morgan agreed, "she does." She sighed and rolled over to look up at him. "I've sometimes wondered, if I'd never got to know Debbie properly, whether I would have bothered going to see Gabriel before I knew he was my son, and not just my brother. Would I have loved him as much as I do?"

Jarod smiled slightly. "I don't think your mother would have let you do anything else."

"But I might not have paid attention to what she was trying to tell me," she argued. "Debbie was the first person who made me realize that I didn't have to be whatever 'Daddy' wanted me to be."

"Thank God she did," Jarod responded fervently, getting to his feet as Gabriel came running over, his clothes caked in wet sand. "Gabriel Charles, look at you!"

"I can't, Daddy!" his son protested. "It's all in de back!"

He turned to expose the streaks of green on the new pale blue shirt that had been purchased for the welcome at the airport and Jarod rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure I never behaved like that." He looked down at the woman lying on the rug. "He must have got it from your side of the family."

She snorted. "Well, why doesn't the former precocious infant take his son off and change him into some harder-wearing clothes and I'll call Broots, just to check that everything's okay and whether I really need to go back there tonight."

Jarod brushed as much of the sand off his son as he could before chasing the boys towards the building. Morgan watched them for a moment, smiling, before taking out her cell phone.

* * * * * * * * *

The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware

"What do you mean, Peter's dead?" the voice shrieked down the line, and Broots held the phone away from his ear until the receiver went silent.

"I only know what Christian from Berlin told me," he responded warily. "It seems Lucian shot him last night. And Delius is dead, too."

"Good riddance," Morgan spat. "He's no loss." She hesitated, her voice softening with grief. "But Peter… Oh, Broots. I can't believe it."

"I… I think you should come back up," Broots offered uncertainly. "Mr. Voorhees and Frederick Hohmann, the head of German security, want to talk to you as soon as possible."

"I'll be there in a few hours," she snapped. "And I want to see that report you're supposed to have for me about tightening our security."

"Y… yes, ma'am."

The dial tone sounded in his ear and he dropped the phone back into the cradle before turning to his computer. The file was already open on his monitor, and he typed in the last few words of his report before beginning to print it out. Kim's hands came down on his shoulders and he turned to look up at her.

"Do you want me to pick Debbie up from school for you?"

"Please." He flashed her a tense smile, before suddenly looking thoughtful. "She was supposed to go and have a final fitting for her dress for the dance today. I was going to take you along with us anyhow, because of how much she likes knowing what you think of her clothes."

Kim smiled. "I'll take her. She can show you the dress once it's finished."

"Thanks." He watched her leave the office and then picked up the pages that had been printed, checking that they were all there before putting them into a folder and setting it aside.

* * * * * * * * *

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

Sydney paused in the doorway of the playroom to see that Angelo was sitting on the floor, two of the Seraphim in his lap, listening eagerly as one of the caregivers read the children a story. The psychiatrist thought it was time to take Angelo back to Blue Cove, wanting to have his son at home with him, where he could take care of him. He couldn't leave Angelo here any longer. He had a duty of care for the son he had let be all but destroyed, only wishing that Catherine had trusted him with the secret of who the boy really was, so that he could have begun earlier. With a rueful sigh, knowing how little his son would want to leave, Sydney was about to enter the room when a hand gently tapped his shoulder and he turned to find the building's owner beside him, to whom Jarod had introduced him not long after he and Angelo had first arrived here.

"Dr. Ritter."

The older man nodded slightly, returning the Australian's handshake. "Mr. MacKenzie."

"Sebastian," the younger man corrected. "I wondered if I could have a word."

"Certainly."

Curious, Sydney accompanied Sebastian to the elevator, watching as the car descended to one of the lower floors, finding himself in a hall lined with offices when the doors opened. He was led to one of the largest, about halfway down, and entered to find several people sitting in one corner. Ramona and three other people sat on the sofa. Three armchairs stood vacant, and Sebastian waved Sydney to one of these, taking another himself. Just as he sat down, Sydney heard soft, familiar footsteps, turning in time to see Jarod enter the room.

"Hope I didn't miss anything," he stated, as he sat down in the last empty armchair.

"We were just about to start," Sebastian informed him. "I hadn't even gotten around to doing the introductions yet." He turned to Sydney. "Dr. Ritter -- "

"Sydney," the psychiatrist amended, and Sebastian nodded slightly in acknowledgement, waving at each of those seated in the circle.

"Sydney, these are Trevor, his wife Elizabeth, Ramona and Cam." He suddenly grinned. "I think you already know my most recently attained board member of Pele Enterprises."

"You could say that," Sydney agreed, smiling, as Jarod chuckled.

"We've got a proposal for you," Sebastian began, dispensing with formalities, and Sydney tensed immediately. "We've seen how happy your son is here, and we wondered if you'd consider letting him stay -- for good."

Sydney's immediate instinct was to refuse. He had felt guilty, ever since learning the truth about Angelo, that he had done nothing to protect the defenseless child, and after discovering that the empath was his son, that guilt had only magnified. This offer, it seemed to him, would be throwing off the responsibility he had only recently adopted of the care of his son, who was so incapable of taking care of himself in the unfamiliar scenarios that the world would present to him.

"You've done a lot for Angelo," the young man Sebastian had introduced as Cam remarked softly, to Sydney's surprise. "I doubt that you need to feel guilty about it."

Wary, Sydney glanced at Jarod, who nodded, as if understanding, but deftly steered the topic to a different area, shooting a quick glance at Elizabeth before returning his gaze to the psychiatrist. "Angelique's happier than I've seen her in some time," he remarked. "And I'm sure that a large part of that is due to Angelo being here."

There was a moment of silence, which Trevor broke.

"It's just possible, Sydney," he began thoughtfully, "that we might be able to do something for your son. I don't say that we can get him to the level Jarod described to us, when you were using the treatment he designed, but we might be able to improve his communication skills, and hopefully also his concentration."

"How?" the psychiatrist returned, opening skeptical. "The neural pathways that were restored by the treatment collapsed again when it wasn't completed."

"You've seen the result of those people who are skilled in the art of healing," Elizabeth reminded him quietly. "As Angelo's current state was caused by tissue damage, there's a likelihood that they might be able to do something about it. Of course, it's been so long that the damaged tissue has already healed itself, which is why it might not be completely successful. All we can do is give it a go."

Sydney considered for a moment. He had certainly seen the results of those healers' skills -- the condition of the man beside him was evidence of their abilities.

"Well, you could try," he offered doubtfully. "I don't suppose it could do any more harm."

Sebastian nodded at Trevor, who made a note on a writing pad that rested on his knee. Then the dark-skinned man's gaze swung around once more to the older man, resting on him thoughtfully.

"Have you ever considered, Sydney," Trevor remarked, "that Angelo's ability as an empath must have had a biological foundation? Nothing that Raines did would have caused it in him."

"What are you implying?" the psychiatrist asked promptly.

"Nothing we've found would lead us to the conclusion that Catherine Parker had any empathic or extra-sensory perceptive abilities," the younger man stated. "Her 'Inner Sense' had nothing to do with the physical senses, as such," Trevor's gaze intensified, "which leaves us with Angelo's father."

Sydney straightened in his seat. "What are you trying to suggest, Mr. McCarty?"

Sebastian instantly raised an eyebrow. "Just out of interest," he stated quietly, "how did you know that was Trevor's last name? Nobody's used it since we entered the room."

"It's written on…" Sydney's voice trailed off, his hand in the process of indicating the notepad that lay on Trevor's knee, and the surface of which was not visible from his seat.

Jarod reached over and tore off the sheet of paper, silently handing it to his mentor. On it, Sydney saw the words 'Trevor McCarty' and looked up again wordlessly.

There was a long pause before anyone spoke again.

"We believe it's a phenomenon called 'clairsentience,'" Trevor explained. "It means 'clear feeling' in French, and -- "

"I know what it means," Sydney replied sharply, his feeling of shock shattered by the assumption of ignorance. "I did grow up in France, you know."

Sebastian chuckled as Trevor was momentarily flummoxed, before managing to continue. "It's an extension of one or more of the senses. The clairsentient individual can feel things they wouldn't normally be able to, hearing things from further away than they would be able to do naturally, for example, or seeing things on the other side of closed doors or even just the other side of a room."

"Like when Jarod was coming before," Ramona interposed gently. "You heard it before the rest of us did."

"There's also an apparently stronger connection to the spirit world," Elizabeth put in. "It probably explains why your dreamed conversations with your brother are so much more real than those of others."

Sydney stared at her. "What do you know about my brother?"

She smiled slightly. "Sydney, everyone in this room, and most people in this building, have some sort of gift. You aren't alone."

The psychiatrist was immediately curious. Although his profession refuted the existence of 'gifts' such as these people claimed, he had had too much experience of the paranormal to dismiss it in the automatic way most of his professional colleagues did.

"You know we're not normal."

The sentence suddenly drifted into his mind, one that his brother had uttered decades earlier, and which he had automatically contradicted. They had been discussing unusual phenomenon, he recalled, after a lecture in which ESP and other phenomena had been presented and refuted by a lecturer in their psychiatry course.

"Of course we are," Sydney had insisted. "We've got two arms and two legs, like everyone else, don't we?"

Jacob chuckled, deep in his throat, as he hefted his bag over his shoulder, and then tapped the side of his head. "It's what in here that tells you whether you're normal or not. And I don't think any of the people here," he indicated the groups of people surrounding them, "know the sorts of things that we know."

Sydney blinked, refocusing on the group around him, seeing that Jarod had raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to comment, and the older man wondered briefly if he had ever discussed that conversation with his young prodigy. On consideration, he didn't believe that he had.

"We might be able to help you to hone that ability," Sebastian offered, "if you're interested."

Sydney met his gaze steadily, recovering his composure. "I've lived for almost 70 years with this in a basically latent state, Sebastian, if indeed it actually exists. I don't really want to become a highly tuned clairsentient at this stage. I've got enough to deal with, without it."

Sebastian nodded understandingly, nodding again at the other people in the room, who rose and quietly left it. Sydney looked at the page he still held, seeing the firmly inscribed handwriting, his eyes tracing the letters.

When he looked up again, only Jarod remained in the room, watching him, waiting for a reaction, and the older man raised an eyebrow interrogatively.

"How long have you known?"

"Since just after Morgan left." Jarod leaned back in his chair. "Sebastian and Trevor came to talk about it with me. But I've always wondered if there was something different about you."

"You're mocking me now," the psychiatrist replied sharply, and Jarod laughed, shaking his head.

"I wouldn't do that, Sydney. And I did always feel that way. But it wasn't something that I would've been able to pick up anyway. You're obviously receptive, rather than emitting your senses."

"You seem to have become quite an expert."

"I did a little research." He met the older man's gaze, a trace of humor in his dark eyes. "The way you taught me."

Sydney rolled his eyes. "I never taught you to research me!"

Jarod laughed. "I like to know what I'm talking about, as do you."

The psychiatrist stared at the paper in his hands again before slowly looking up. "I'm not going to tell Morgan about this."

The Pretender raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Do you think she won't understand?"

"It's a personal decision," Sydney snapped. "My decision."

"Of course it is," Jarod agreed quietly, standing and heading towards the door. "I just don't believe she'd be as surprised as you think."

* * * * * * * * *

Sydney, Australia

Lucian sat at the window of his hotel room, his newly purchased laptop open in front of him, a file sitting idle. After a moment, the screensaver started, and the screen went black, before words began to scroll across it.

The Centre. Die Fakultät. The Asian Station. The Pretoriat.

Other names followed these, and then Lucian idly watched as the sequence restarted, planning what he would do when he once more had control of his empire. There would be no Triumvirate this time. Everyone would answer to him, and only to him. The basic organizational structures had always been sound -- his father had had a good understanding of organization -- but the old Triumvirate had always believed it had too much power. When he took over, that would change.

Pushing the chair back further, basking in the sunlight that streamed in through the window, he shut his eyes and thought of his most recent glories. Killing Peter Winston had been fun, but more for the knowledge of how it would affect Morgan than anything else. Lucian, aware of their shared history, had not missed the strong feelings the dead man had had for his American counterpart, and, whether the feelings had been reciprocated or not, he had no doubt that the loss of a friend, for a woman who had had so few of those, would be painful. It would also, he hoped, increase her own feelings of concern about her personal security.

But taking care of Delius had been a piece of personal revenge he had anticipated for years. Part of his training had been done in Germany, at the old office in Potsdam, before the new building in Berlin had been completed, and Martin Delius had enjoyed his apparent superiority over both Cox and Lucian himself during those years.

The devastating realization on Delius' face of who 'Valentine' really was had been wonderful, and he had made sure the man's death was as slow as he dared to make it. Certainly, it would have been agony, and he smiled at the thought. In fact, the persona of Valentine had been useful, and had lasted for a long time. He thought back to how it had begun, the smile slowly fading from his face.

Lucian tossed the handful of dirt onto his father's grave, glanced at his mother's dry eyes, and knew. Though the Centre inquest revealed the death was due to natural causes, Lucian sensed that it had been doctored, or at least influenced to read as it did. He nodded to her as she prepared to walk away, still trim and beautiful despite her years. He had her dark hair and eyes, his father's deep voice, and now, an empire to run.

He recalled the last conversation he'd had with his father before he died. Hermann had told him about the Triumvirate's quashing of several of his most necessary projects because of the human cost, refusing to see the Big Picture and how the end result would benefit mankind. They had also been prying into some of the projects housed on the lower floors, and that was someplace they simply had no business.

It was time, then, for a change in management. Lucian had been doing his research and knew which of the other senior executives would follow the company line, and not be squeamish about what had to be done. They were men who had already proven themselves by bringing in valuable subjects like Jarod, Kyle and Damon. They could be counted on to treat the commodities as property and not get sentimental about what was done to them.

That kind of strength was necessary in an organization like The Centre. Lucian had that strength himself, and expected nothing less of those who would work under him. The faint-hearted would be swept away to make room for those with spines made of steel.

He smiled as he watched his mother retreating toward the black limousine. After he finished rearranging the board of directors, he'd have a little personal vengeance to ice the cake. He pulled the stack of sanction orders from the inner pocket of his black suit, checked the names against the faces as they departed the graveside, and began to plan how best to remove them from office.

It would be a pleasure to take care of that himself. And that new doctor he'd seen in the halls, the one with the abject love of road kill, whose hobby was taxidermy, would come in quite handy as well. Lucian meant to keep these trophies as a reminder of his power, in the secret room that was his father's legacy.

But first, he'd have to make the young doctor's acquaintance and feel him out, to see if he'd be interested in such an unusual, yet artistic undertaking. If not, such a junior scientist was surely expendable as well. And as long as he had signed sanctions in his pocket for the Triumvirate, no one would question a lowly sweeper who was just carrying out orders. What he did with the remains was his own business.

He glanced at the headstone standing guard over the open grave and read the epitaph. It was standard schmaltz, not good enough for a man of Hermann Bruce's stature. But the date caught his eye, and he chuckled. The date of his father's death was immortalized in stone, reminding him of the transfer of power. People might not remember that event once Lucian went underground, but he would carry the reminder with him always.

Hermann Bruce, born August 20, 1915, died February 14, 1978.

Valentine's day.

That would be a splendid new name for his covert identity.

"See ya, Dad," he murmured with a brief salute. "Mom will be here shortly."

Act II

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

Sydney looked over at where his older son was playing with some of the toys that he kept in the room he had been given upon his arrival at Sanctuary, toys that Angelique had brought up from the playroom for him. Sydney couldn't doubt that the little girl knew who her father was, although she still called him 'Angel' instead of the more usual 'Daddy'.

Morgan, when he had called to tell her what had been suggested, had been enthusiastic that they do everything possible to try and reverse the problems Raines had caused. She, in turn, had told him about Peter Winston, and Sydney had immediately volunteered to come up to Blue Cove, but she had insisted he stay with her twin brother, at least until they knew whether the treatment had had any effect.

The door of the room quietly opened, and three men entered. Trevor and Joseph hesitated in the doorway as Jarod approached the figure on the floor. The empath's blue eyes traveled from his friend's face to that of the healer, before nodding solemnly, as if understanding that what was going to happen would be for his benefit. Using the hand Jarod offered, he rose and moved over to the bed in the corner, scooting back until he was sitting properly on it.

Trevor followed Joseph over to the bed, stopping several paces away to watch the proceedings. Jarod had worried that having too many people in the room might upset Angelo or make things more difficult for Joseph. Sydney was grateful for that decision. He didn't want his son to become a spectacle.

Joseph quietly approached the bed, and the psychiatrist wondered at the expression on his face. It was almost resignation, mixed with a degree of fear, and he wondered how often, as a subject, he had been called upon to act as a healer when experiments had gone wrong at Die Fakultät, thinking at the same time how useful such a skilled individual would have been at the Centre. His gaze rested on his former student, remembering the few times he had been unable to control the results of sims, and Jarod had been injured. On those nights, Sydney had been unable to sleep, consumed with guilt that he hadn't prevented it, or passed the sim on to another pretender.

To distract himself from those thoughts, Sydney fixed his eyes on Angelo, sitting calmly on the bed. Sydney's breath caught silently in his throat as he saw Joseph's hands hover briefly over the empath's head, before coming to rest on either side of it.

"All right," the German stated quietly, his eyes fixed on the blue pair gazing up at him.

Jarod, whose hands rested lightly on Angelo's shoulders, felt something tingle in his fingers and glanced at Joseph, seeing that the healer's eyes were closed, his facial features tense. A moment of silence passed, before Jarod looked down at Angelo and saw that the younger man's gaze was focused keenly on Joseph. He wondered what it felt like for Angelo to have the healer's energy flowing through him, hopefully mending the damaged tissue, restoring neural pathways and making it easier to think and act.

Suddenly, a drop fell onto the empath's skin, and Jarod looked up sharply at the German, seeing that perspiration beaded his face, the color having faded from his cheeks, his breath coming with difficulty and his face twisted as if in pain. Remembering a discussion he had had with Joseph about his abilities, he wondered if the healer was absorbing the pain Angelo had felt when the original procedure had been performed on him, the pain of which had sent Timmy into a catatonic state. If that was the case, it was no wonder Joseph was suffering now.

Angelo reached up to grasp Jarod's hand, his fingers tightening around those of his old friend, and the Pretender looked back at the younger man's face.

"Jarod," he murmured softly, and the older man smiled.

"Hi, Angelo."

An inarticulate sound made Jarod look up again in time to see Joseph, his eyes closed and face gray, sway on his feet. Trevor leapt forward to catch the healer as he slumped to the floor. Jarod threw himself down onto his knees beside the unconscious man, ignoring the pain this caused, checking for a pulse and meeting Trevor's gaze.

"Alert the infirmary and get a stretcher."

The psychic nodded curtly and bolted from the room, leaving Jarod to try to bring Joseph back to consciousness, as Sydney stepped over to the bedside and looked down at his son. The empath smiled up at the anxious man.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Angelo!" Sydney breathed in relief, knowing at least that no further damage had been caused by the procedure, if Angelo still knew something as recently attained as that word.

The psychiatrist heard a faint groan from the man on the floor and his gaze flew from his son to the healer, who, his eyes still closed, was beginning to move. Jarod leaned over him in concern.

<"Joseph,"> he urged softly, in the man's native language. <"Wake up. Look at me. Come on.">

Sydney saw the healer's blue eyes slowly open, but they failed to focus on anything in the room. The door opened to reveal three men with a stretcher, who joined Jarod on the floor around the German man. Getting to his feet, Jarod returned to the bedside, taking the hand Angelo offered and looking at Sydney.

"We had a series of tests planned to check Angelo's state after the… treatment," he finished, after a moment of thought, to select the right word.

"Were you going to do the tests yourself?"

"I'd intended to," Jarod responded slowly.

"I can do it, Dad," a voice from the doorway interrupted. "You go with Joseph."

The Pretender turned to find his elder son in the doorway, seeing the stretcher being taken along to the elevator behind him.

"All right, Jordan," he agreed immediately. "The papers are on the desk." He nodded towards the workstation in the corner before quickly leaving the room.

The psychiatrist watched him go, before turning his attention to the young man, who moved across to the desk with the same assurance that Jarod often showed. Sydney noticed, however, that Jordan avoided his eye, and sighed at the realization that the young man still seemed to see him as the Centre Operative he had been during their first meeting. Jordan collected the papers from the desk and quickly looked through them, before approaching the bed on which Angelo sat.

* * * * * * * * *

The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware

Morgan watched the security footage from Die Fakultät, anger simmering inside her as she saw Lucian slip into the building, presumably using the skills Ms. Hart had taught him to get past the guards.

"We've had motion detectors put on the doors, so he won't be able to do that again," the new head of Die Fakultät, Frederick Hohmann, assured her on the videoconference monitor. "All entrances are now secured in this manner."

"Ours are done in the same way," Jock Voorhees added. "We've also treated the people whom Lucian addicted to Aurora or injected with Supernova."

"So have we," Morgan stated. "The Aurora addicts are still being treated, but we've refined the treatment to make it easier for them." She picked up the report and held it so that the two men with whom she was speaking could see it. "I've sent you both copies of this. It's Broots' plan, and we believe it should take care of a lot of potential problems that could face us in future."

"Could you outline the main points for us now, Miss Ritter?" Frederick requested.

"Certainly." She looked down at the summary Broots had written for her. "First, no sweeper will be on duty alone. Lucian might overpower one person, but he won't be likely to overpower two."

"Very true," Jock agreed.

"Second, personal information will be removed from any computer that has external access. Only those off the network will contain personnel details. In fact, we're considering setting up specific machines for that exact task. It will hopefully eliminate any chance of hacking into that data. But, in case that isn't foolproof, all those who live outside the Centre will be given 24-hour security at their homes. Four sweepers will guard the perimeters of the homes belonging to executives at all times. If anyone else wants guards during the day or at other times, they can request them."

"Do you have enough staff for that?"

"We will, after step three," she stated firmly. "That is, we're going to close down the small offices in the United States. All those with a full-time staff of less than 30 will be permanently shut down and the staff transferred to Blue Cove. That will provide us with sufficient guards. I suggest you do the same."

"Actually, Miss Ritter, we had a better idea for our branch," Frederick offered. "During the next two months, we would like to close down and transfer our operations to the branch at Blue Cove. We had a very good offer for the building."

Morgan considered this for a brief moment. It would certainly be a good way to tighten security in the Centre, and she knew that she could trust this man. Her inner sense had assured her of that, and his name had been on the list she had received from Jarod. She looked at Broots, who was quietly consulting with Daniel Pyne, the two men sitting on the other side of the room. After a brief moment, he looked up and nodded.

"We can do that," he offered. "There are the residence rooms on SL-12, most of which are empty. Storage rooms can be constructed in the old cells."

"Start making the move, Mr. Hohmann," Morgan stated. "But do it slowly. With luck, Lucian might not realize exactly what's going on until you're safely here. But make sure every stage is well-guarded, so that he doesn't attack on the way."

"Of course, Miss Ritter," the German agreed. "I'll get everything organized and send a message to tell you when the first things will arrive."

"Good." She turned her attention to the South African. "Mr. Voorhees, can you tell me your plans for the next week or so?"

"We plan to take over the Asian station in Taiwan within the next week. We've been flying in staff over the past two days. The takeover should be complete within a few days. I'll send you a report once it's over."

"That sounds like the best course of action," Morgan agreed. "How many other stations in your area do you still have to take care of?"

"About a dozen or so," Voorhees responded. "We've secured those closest to us and we're now moving further afield. Some, like the one in New Zealand, are coming to us voluntarily."

"Perfect." Morgan nodded at Broots, who made a note on the pad he held. "Well, we sound like we'll all be busy for the next few days. How about another discussion in three days?"

"That sounds ideal, Miss Ritter," Frederick responded. "Three days, it is."

The screen went blank, and Morgan sat back in her chair, looking at Broots. "Arrange the rooms. We can easily add their projects to our rosters, with the extra staff."

"The new security staff from the offices in California will be arriving in two hours," Daniel offered.

"What about the offices there?"

"They'll keep a skeleton security staff on until Lucian is neutralized. After that, we can sell them and use the money for those projects we were planning."

"Hopefully, that won't take long." Morgan pushed her chair slightly back from the desk. She didn't want to be in the office now. The news that Peter had been killed had been painful, and she had had no time to digest it properly. Although she knew that she wasn't in love with him, it was still a painful thing to have lost a close friend, who had helped her achieve her mother's dream, and her own.

"We know that all those who will be left at the offices are free of any drugs," Broots continued. "Those who were addicted to Aurora and the others will be brought here, for us to keep an eye on them. Former addicts will only ever work with two or more non-addicts and the rosters for the next month are already drawn up. CGB is also going to be delivering a regular supply of those drugs Jarod created to keep cravings under control."

"Very organized," Morgan said crisply. "Good work, Lazslo. Was there anything else?"

"Not unless you had anything more that needed discussion," Broots replied, capping his pen and sliding it into the pocket of his shirt. "Except for one thing. Debbie has a school dance in a week's time, and she wanted to know if you'd come by this evening to see her dress and shoes."

The woman smiled faintly. "Sure. You can tell Debbie I'll be there at around six."

"Thank you, Miss Ritter," he responded warmly, gathering his things and leaving this office with the other man.

Morgan rested her arms on the desk and sank her head onto them. Something heavy seemed to be resting on her chest, and she took in a deep breath with difficulty. When her computer beeped, she moaned softly before activating the program. Jarod appeared on the screen, his expression one of concern.

"Are you all right?"

"You mean apart from the fact that I've just lost a close friend?" she demanded sharply.

"I'm sorry, Morgan," he apologized immediately. "I could come up and see you…"

"How's Angelo?" she interrupted, and saw him smile.

"Do you want to talk to him?"

She arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Sure."

He turned in his chair. "Angelo! Come say hi to your sister."

A moment later, the empath appeared on the screen, and waved eagerly. "Hi, Morgan! How're you?"

Morgan felt her eyes widen at the clarity and readiness of his speech. Angelo giggled in obvious delight at her surprise, turning around to laugh at Jarod. The Pretender smiled in return and then placed his hand on Angelo's shoulder.

"Go down and bring Gabriel up from the playroom for me."

Nodding, Angelo sidled out of shot. His movements were more like those of an adult than Morgan had seen since Sydney had given Angelo the drug treatments, four and a half years earlier, but still retained something of their former childishness.

"It's a big improvement," she offered, and Jarod nodded.

"His attention span is better, and he can speak more fluently than he could before. But he's still very childish in what he enjoys, and he loves playing with the children. Especially Angelique."

Morgan felt suddenly sad, remembering what the girl had lost. "How is she?"

"Not bad." He looked thoughtful. "Not as good as she was at her best, when her mother was here, but gradually improving. Angelo being here is helping."

"Good." She nodded, before sighing. "Daddy called just before, to tell me what happened. How's Joseph?"

"Not so good." Jarod looked down briefly, before meeting her gaze again. "Unless we can work out what's wrong with him and treat it, I'm afraid he's probably going to deteriorate further."

"Doesn't he have children? One of the Seraphim's his, isn't it?"

"Two boys and a new daughter, and yes, Raphael's his son," the Pretender agreed gloomily. "And even if he does live, he might never improve on what he is now -- and he's not good."

"You'll help him," Morgan prompted confidently. "I'm sure you can."

"I hope so," Jarod stated, before his tone changed. "But that wasn't the reason I called, although I thought you'd want to see Angelo. Sebastian told me about Peter. Are you okay?"

She sighed heavily. "He was a friend, Jarod."

"I know he was," he replied sympathetically.

"I never had that many friends," she continued confidentially. "But he was a good friend."

"He wanted you to be more than that," the man offered quietly.

"I'm… almost glad I didn't. I don't think I could have borne it, Jarod, if I had to go through it again, like I did with Thomas."

The first tear escaped from her eye and she looked down, wiping it away with an unsteady hand.

"Mine?" a hesitant voice suddenly asked, and she looked up to see Gabriel on the screen, looking at her out of anxious eyes.

"Hi, baby," she smiled weakly, swallowing the last of the salty droplets and the lump in her throat.

"Mommy's sad," he protested, his bottom lip protruding and starting to tremble, as he reached forward to press a chubby hand to the screen.

"Yes, Gabriel," she agreed softly, wiping her cheeks. "I am."

"Will you come home soon?" he asked eagerly, and Morgan wondered if she really needed to be in Blue Cove for the weekend.

"Of course she will," Jarod urged and she met his gaze, seeing the determination in his eyes. "I'm sure she can take a few days off without the world collapsing. She's got other people to help her deal with problems that might arise and they can always call her. It's only a few hours by plane, if she needs to go back."

Morgan nodded, realizing that he was right, and knowing also that a couple of days away from the Centre would give her time to get over the worst pain of Peter's murder. She could spend the rest of the week organizing everything, so there would be nothing to stop her from going.

"I'll be there, Gabriel," she told him, seeing his dark eyes light up in delight. "I promise."

* * * * * * * * *

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

"What do you think, Jordan?"

The young man rocked back on his heels, the carpet around him littered with scans, and studied each one for a few seconds before looking at his father.

"I don't know, Dad," he confessed. Looking up, he saw similar mystification in his father's eyes. "Have you got any ideas?"

"No, not really." Jarod gazed thoughtfully at the images, before picking up one and putting it onto a screen that had been wheeled into the apartment's living room. Studying it, the light illuminating the black and white image, he pointed at a tiny white dot, and then turned. "Would you agree that that's a blood clot?"

"But it's tiny!" Jordan protested. "There's no way it could cause so many problems on its own. Anyhow, it's not in the right place to cause lack of sensation. I mean, Joseph didn't even seem to feel anything anywhere on his left side when you tested him." He slid another scan into the screen. "For that to happen," he circled a place with his index finger, "it'd have to be in this area."

"But it would explain his collapse," Jarod replied, before suddenly grabbing a book that lay on the sofa and flipping it open to reveal a normal scan. Holding it up, he turned to his son. "What's the difference between this one and that?"

Jordan stepped closer and looked at the images, finally seeing what his father had presumably already noticed. "It… it's smaller," he began slowly. "The whole section of the brain is smaller than the photo." He tapped the book. "Is that normal?"

"According to what the caption says, yes," Jarod replied. "Which means…"

"The brain is shrinking, or," Jordan corrected, taking a closer look at the book, "maybe it's worse than that. I mean, if it was just shrinking, it'd still have the same shape, wouldn't it? It looks to me like parts of the brain tissue are actually missing, like maybe it's breaking down."

"That's a good point, son," Jarod agreed, taking a closer look, and flipping through the pages until he found one of another lobe, comparing that with the relevant scan. "But this looks normal. So it might be localized to one area of the brain."

Jordan thought for a moment, considering the possible causes and dwelling on solutions, when a horrifying thought struck him and he looked at the man beside him.

"Dad, do… do you think this will only be affecting Joseph?"

He could see his father considering this, before suddenly realizing what he meant, his dark eyes widening. "You mean all of us could have the same problem?"

"Well, it's possible, isn't it?" Jordan argued. "I mean, we don't know what causes it, we didn't have any real idea of what would happen -- the only sign was the pain that Joseph said he felt when he used his skill, kind of like what happened with Faith."

"And both of them were forced to use their abilities on numerous occasions," Jarod mused softly, his eyes on the scans in front of him, but Jordan saw them mist slightly, until the man blinked. "So if other people weren't pushed that hard, or for as long, nobody might know…"

"'Till they collapsed," Jordan finished for him. "And as we don't know what causes it, or how to treat it, we won't be able to do anything to help them -- or ourselves."

He saw his father swallow hard at that realization, fear lying cold in the pit of his own stomach, wondering if his brain was slowly falling apart inside his skull.

"If only we had an autopsy from Allegra," Jarod mused ruefully, "we'd know if she had the same problem, like I suspect she did."

"Wouldn't there be DSAs of her on record?" Jordan moved over to the computer in the corner and logged into the Centre's records, bringing up the dead electrokinetic's file, before realizing that his father was leaning over his shoulder.

"Just check her last few weeks," Jarod suggested. "If she wasn't up to standard, Lyle would never have had her transferred from Bear Island."

Nodding, Jordan opened the reports that had been written and enlarged the screen so that it was easier to read. "Reduction in power," he read aloud, scanning the information quickly, "some loss of co-ordination, lack of focus, periods of inattentiveness, short-circuiting locks and elevators, blowing the light in her room…"

"So she lost control," Jarod concluded. "And it presumably wasn't conscious. She was on Aurora and wouldn't have wanted to disobey, in case they stopped giving it to her."

Jordan looked sharply over his shoulder, but he was relieved to see that his father wasn't visibly affected, instead obviously thinking about the woman who had received the drug, and the young man could also feel that Jarod's desire wasn't making itself felt, as it had in the past, at the mere mention of Aurora. The older man moved back to the workstation and flipped open a book about the different lobes of the brain and what they did.

"The parietal lobe," he murmured, "deals with perception of stimuli relating to touch, temperature, pressure and pain." He looked at his son. "That's probably the area most likely to be affected, in both Allegra and Joseph." Jarod moved over to look at the scans again. "The others all look fine, except for the parietal lobe."

He scratched his chin, wandering away from the screen towards the middle of the room. When he remained silent, Jordan spoke up.

"So how do we treat it?"

"I have no idea," Jarod confessed, clasping his hands behind his back as he turned to look at the young man. "And I don't think, from just Joseph's data, that we're going to be able to come up with anything."

"You mean we'll need to get more information, from other people?"

"Exactly." Jarod gathered the scans and slid them into the large envelope in which they had been delivered to his room, before glancing at his watch. "I've got a board meeting to discuss this now." He rested his hand on Jordan's shoulder. "Keep thinking, son, and I'll come back to tell you what they say."

"Sure." Jordan turned back to the computer, but his father's words kept circling in his mind. Keep thinking. If this was affecting him, too, he wondered, with a shudder, just how long he would be able to do that.

* * * * * * * * *

A low murmur of voices and gasps followed Jarod's announcement. The people sitting along the table turned to one another, fear obvious in their eyes, but he stepped forward and rapped on the wooden tabletop to get their attention.

"It's only a possibility at this stage," he assured them, as their voices died away into silence. "But I do want to test everyone here, to find out exactly who is affected, and how badly." Jarod turned to Sebastian. "Can we order some more MRI machines so that we can get through it faster?"

Sebastian nodded slowly. Jarod could see the panic and shock in his eyes, but he managed to control himself.

"Have them put into the spare room on the same floor as the infirmary, with the other one," the Australian directed, and Ramona made a note on the paper in front of her. "Check whether we need to change our existing procedures -- lead insulation, cell phone use, that kind of thing."

"Who's going to go through the results?" Trevor demanded. "Will we be bringing in trained staff to check them?"

"I was planning to do it myself," Jarod offered. "And I'm sure Jordan would be willing, too."

"Good." Sebastian nodded definitively. "As soon as the machines are set up, we'll arrange times for everybody to be scanned. We'll get messages out to people and let them know when they will be needed for their test. Once we have the results, we'll know where to go from there. Thank you, everyone."

The group around the table rose and Jarod took Joseph's scans down from the screen on which they had been displayed, switching it off before turning to find that Sebastian had remained in the boardroom.

"How serious is it, Jarod?" the Australian asked immediately.

The Pretender hesitated, trying to work out a way to soften the blow but still be honest. Sebastian turned on him, one hand resting on the boardroom table.

"I want the truth," he growled. "Tell me. It's bad, isn't it?"

"It could be," the older man offered somewhat hesitantly, as they left the room, heading down the hall. "If we can come up with a treatment, or if Joseph is the only person affected, then it won't be that bad. But otherwise…"

Trailing off, he watched his boss's reaction out of the corner of his eye, seeing his shoulders sag slightly as he realized the possible impact of such news on his organization as well as the lives of his friends. In the Australian's office, Jarod took the seat on the other side of the desk as Sebastian sat down in his own chair.

"What else, Jarod?" Sebastian asked.

The Pretender inhaled deeply, sitting up straighter. "I'd like to request Yuri be transferred here from the Centre."

The pyrokenetic stared at him. "Why?"

"We need all the help we can get," Jarod returned quickly. "If Yuri's helping, we can get through the tests even faster, and he'll probably have suggestions for treatment."

Sebastian looked thoughtful. "How much can we trust him, though?"

Jarod arched an eyebrow. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course," came the prompt reply.

"Well, I trust him, on this point, at least. He's already been working on treatment for his daughter, and it will give us a good starting point. Without that, we'd be a lot further behind." Jarod leaned forward in his chair. "You could put him into his own room on one of the higher levels, if you want, and put a camera in there, to keep an eye on him. Maybe even set up a special security team, or have one sent here from Delaware."

Sebastian nodded. "All right," he finally conceded. "I'll talk to Ramona about setting something up for him."

"Thanks." Jarod flashed him a grin. "I'll call Morgan and discuss it with her. I already mentioned it to Sydney, and he's quite happy about it, even if he decides to go back to Blue Cove and leave Yuri here."

The Australian raised an eyebrow. "You knew I'd say yes?"

Jarod grinned. "I had a pretty good idea you would, but, as you're my boss, I had to get your okay before making any other plans."

"I'm glad you realize it," Sebastian retorted in mock-sternness, even as he picked up the phone to call Ramona and Jarod headed for the door.

* * * * * * * * *

The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware

Yuri paced the length of his room, stopping before he climbed the few steps leading to the door, to stare blankly at them, not seeing anything in front of him, only a small girl with brown hair and big brown eyes.

He would be in the same building as Michaela.

Moving over to his computer, he activated the camera link to Sanctuary's playroom, finding her among the other little bodies. Many adults were among the children, and he guessed that the news Jarod had given them meant that they were too distracted to work. Michaela sat alone for the moment. Sebastian was playing with Gideon, both of them wet, as was the corner in which they were playing. As Yuri watched, Dominique and Uriel ran over to join in, both squealing as they were squirted with water-filled guns.

He saw Jarod go over to the corner where the little girl was sitting and take a seat next to her on the floor, a book in his hand, one that the child read frequently. Yuri watched his daughter climb into the man's lap, snuggling against his chest as the Pretender opened the book. Gabriel ran up to sit with his father as the man began to read. Yuri sharply drew in his breath as Jarod glanced at the camera through which Yuri was watching the scene, instinctively pulling away from his computer as if the older man was actually able to see him. Obviously noticing the red light that indicated the camera was active, Jarod shot a somewhat sad smile at it before continuing to read.

A lump formed in Yuri's throat as he minimized the program, leaving a small window open so that he could continue to watch her, and opened the file Jarod had sent. He had already read through the information and knew what the problem was. He had begun to suspect that something similar had happened to his daughter's mother, resulting in her eventual death.

But he still hadn't made a decision about going to Dallas. Miss Ritter had made it obvious that this was his choice. No one could force him to go, if he didn't want to. That was how this new regime worked, and he appreciated the differences every day, most of all when Emily paid her daily visit. Her forgiveness had made incarceration easier to bear, but Yuri knew that he still deserved this.

Had he really earned the opportunity to go down to Dallas, to have further freedoms, and maybe even to see his daughter? He wouldn't be able to speak to her, of course, but even just to have the possible chance of seeing her -- did he really deserve it?

That he would work on the project was a given. He had already spent countless hours, before and after his abduction by Valentine, trying to solve the problem of what exactly had caused Allegra's death, but with no autopsy and few final details, it was difficult. He had found it hard to believe that her gradual deterioration would have so rapidly accelerated, and wondered if there had been some other influence involved. When he had presented that theory in a report Miss Ritter had asked for, she had agreed that it was possible. That sort of positive reinforcement was another of the many benefits that made this place so much better than it had been before.

Yuri wanted to discuss his uncertainty with Sydney, but Miss Ritter had said the older man was in Dallas, visiting Jarod and his grandchildren. The Pretender knew he didn't have long to make his decision. Jarod wanted him to come up to Dallas within the next 24 hours, if he came at all. The email he had sent gave the younger man the choice, but expressed Jarod's desire to have Yuri's active input and presence.

Suddenly the screen in front of Yuri flickered into life, the screensaver having activated during his contemplation, and the mechanical voice informed him that a video call was coming in. His brow furrowing, he entered the password Miss Ritter had provided. His expression sank into a relieved smile as he saw Sydney's familiar features on the screen. The Belgian gave a welcoming smile in return.

"Hello, Yuri. Morgan said that you were hoping to talk to me."

"Yes," the younger man agreed eagerly. "I wanted your advice…"

* * * * * * * * *

25 Washington Ave.
Blue Cove, Delaware

Michelle carried in the basket of washing and began sorting it on the bench, folding the garments into three piles for herself, Sydney and her son. Her mind drifted to the new dress that hung in her wardrobe, and which Sydney had bought for her to wear at their wedding. With a sigh, she looked down at her ringless hands.

She had been putting off the wedding, refusing to set a definite date, wanting to tell him the truth about who she was first, but unable to bring herself to do it. He realized that she needed space, going down to Dallas with his daughter. He had invited her along, but she had declined. Nicholas had returned to his students, and so she was alone for the time being.

She knew it would be difficult, admitting that so much of what he knew about her was untrue. Her son, also, had to be told the truth. That would be even harder. She had covered up so much of his past, and wondered if this last part might be enough to tear him away from her forever.

Swallowing a painful lump in her throat, she wished that she had braved the threat, remained at the Centre and risked her brother's wrath. He wouldn't have killed her, she was sure. Then all the complications wouldn't have existed. But, as she carried washing into the room she and Sydney shared, she caught sight of his photo on the mantel and knew she couldn't have done anything other than what she did. Sydney's life had been at stake, and she couldn't have been so selfish as to put that at risk for her own interests. She only hoped, as she put away the washing, that her son and Sydney would both understand that.

* * * * * * * * *

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

The car pulled up in front of the large gray building, the bright flame logo emphasized by the dull color of the sky, and Jarod saw Morgan get out of the front seat, Yuri and two sweepers climbing out of the back. He sighed sadly when he saw the handcuffs around Yuri's wrists and the group of guards that went down to replace those from the Centre, even as he descended the stairs with his boss, knowing that Sebastian wasn't taking any chances.

Morgan ordered the sweepers back to the jet that had flown them down, and which would then fly back to Blue Cove, in case it was required. She moved to Jarod's side as Sebastian escorted Yuri into the building, and he slid his arm around her shoulders as they went up the steps, feeling her arm pass around his back, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.

"Where's my baby?"

"Waiting for you in your room," Jarod replied with a smile. "He's got a slight sniffle, so I didn't think he should be out here to meet you."

Morgan's expression was immediately anxious and she hurried into the building, Jarod following behind. The elevator carried them up to the residence level and she moved rapidly down the hall to the room she had been given, opening the door to find Jordan sitting on the floor with Gabriel on his lap, wrapped warmly in a blanket. The baby struggled to his feet and ran over to the door, hugging her around the neck as soon as she picked him up.

"Bine!" he beamed, his lips slightly parted so that he could breathe through an obviously blocked nose. His kisses were drier and his breath hotter than usual, and she turned to Jarod in concern.

"It's just a cold?"

"Just a cold," he assured her, as Jordan moved over to the doorway. "But I'd let him sleep in his own room tonight, if I were you, or he'll keep you awake for most of it." Jarod rolled his eyes. "He slept in my room last night and did a wonderful imitation of a steam-engine for most of it. I kept dreaming I was driving a train in the 19th century."

She smiled, picking up the blanket and wrapping it around her son, as Jordan left the room.

"And you can see if you're any more successful at making him take his medicine than I was," the man continued. "I never realized how awful cherry flavor was." He grimaced. "It tastes all right in PEZ. I don't know what they do to it."

He watched her sit down on the overstuffed armchair in the corner and take Gabriel on her lap, the blanket wrapped around him and her chin resting lightly on his head. He clutched fistfuls of her hair in his hands as it hung down around her face, and Jarod could already see his brown eyes drifting closed as Morgan began to read one of the books that had been lying on the table beside the chair. Smiling, he pulled the door almost closed behind him, going back along the hall to the elevator and riding it up to the topmost level of the actual building, below the sunroof, and on which one of the former storerooms had been converted into Yuri's new home. The apartment door stood open, and he headed in that direction.

"…no guards outside your room," he heard Sebastian explaining, "but you'll be watched on the security cameras and you aren't to just wander around the building. If you want to go somewhere, call someone."

"Yes, sir," came Yuri's muted response. "Thank you."

Jarod stepped into the doorway and saw Sydney, Yuri and Sebastian on the far side of the room. The Australian waved him over as he continued.

"I understand you already know why you've been brought here."

Yuri nodded mutely, dropping his gaze briefly to the floor, blinking several times, before he looked up again.

"The other three MRI machines should be delivered within 24 hours," Sebastian stated, turning to Jarod as he spoke. "Apparently they ought to be ready for use the next day."

"Ramona and Trevor are drawing up rosters for people to come for their scans," Jarod replied. "I'd expect each to take about half an hour, tops."

Sebastian sighed deeply. "It's going to take some time, then."

"Hopefully, only a week or so, to get all the scans done," his employee told him. "And then we can work on a treatment."

"The sooner the better," the Australian growled softly, turning away and leaving the room.

"I'll leave you to get settled in," Jarod told Yuri, guessing that Sydney wanted some time to talk to the younger man. "Someone will bring you dinner in a few hours."

Jarod left the room, knowing that Yuri was torn about his feelings of being here. The thought of his proximity to his daughter was both joyful and agonizing to him, and Sebastian had quickly put the security team in place to watch him, anxious that he would sneak down to the playroom when he wasn't working, despite Jarod's assurance that he would have very little if any free time during the hours that the Seraphim would be awake. The deciding factor in Yuri allowing himself to be moved down here had been Jarod's belief that they would have a better chance of coming up with a cure for the problem if they were working together, and that face-to-face consultation would be quicker and easier than using even a computer interface.

Sighing, Jarod got out of the elevator on the residence floor and headed for his room and the book that lay on the sofa, which he would need to have read before the other MRI machines arrived, in order to know what he was doing when he had to run the tests.

* * * * * * * * *

Asian Station
Taipei, Taiwan

The door swung open easily and the team swarmed inside, their weapons at the ready. More than one gagged at the sickly sweet stench of rotting corpses, including that of the body of the woman sitting at the reception desk. The men reached for the masks with which they had been provided in case of a gas attack, quickly pulling them on to block out the smell of decaying flesh. Stepping back out into the fresh air, the head of security at the Pretoriat, William Stevens, got out his cell phone, bringing up his boss's number and connecting the call, seeing many of his team come out to join him.

This job had been given to Stevens and his team after contact had been lost with the office and fears had arisen that they had joined Lucian. Now, of course, it would probably be impossible to tell whether that had actually occurred, but the South African suspected that Lucian was involved in this apparent mass-murder.

"We've got a probable list of subjects," Voorhees mused, after hearing what his head of security had to say, "so try to go through and get a head-count. Provide your team with whatever they need to get the job done. Get photos in case there are any recognizable characteristics. If they've all been taken care of, we'll send in a cleaner team to get rid of the remains."

"Yes, sir," William agreed. "And if we can recognize any of them, should we make up a list?"

"If possible, yes," Jock agreed tentatively. "It'd be useful to know whether Lucian has any of them with him. Just do what you can today. The clean-up team can put final figures together."

Disconnecting the call, Stevens turned to his team, all of whom had now escaped the dark, dank interior for the bright sunlight, and repeated the orders, sending several of the men back for their masks, so that the count could begin.

* * * * * * * * *

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

Jarod was waiting in the lobby when Emily ventured into the building's interior, greeting her with a kiss and taking her bag.

"Michaela asked to see you first thing," he told her. "And we haven't told Yuri you were coming, in case you were held up for any reason."

She smiled. "You didn't have to tell Kayla?"

"No, we didn't," he agreed with a grin, as they got into the elevator. "I've got a room set up for you near mine and Mom and Dad's. Since we don't know how long you're going to stay, I thought it was better to give you somewhere at least semi-permanent."

"I thought Mom and Dad might have been down to see me, too."

"Another surprise," Jarod stated with a childishly gleeful grin. "They went out to do some shopping together. I thought we could just spring you on them later."

Emily laughed. "You are such a baby, Jarod!"

"Hey, I'm ten years older than you," he protested indignantly, as the elevator doors opened onto the nursery level and he put the bags to one side before going towards the doors with her. "Show some respect to your big brother."

She didn't have a chance to utter any of the remarks on the tip of her tongue in response to this as a brown-haired bundle of energy threw herself delightedly at Emily's legs.

"Em'ly!" Michaela shrieked. "Em'ly! Em'ly! Em'ly! Oh, Em'ly!"

"Okay, sweetie," she laughed, bending down to be on eye level with the girl. "It's good to see you, too."

The girl threw her arms around the woman's neck and hugged her tightly, kissing her warmly. "I missed you!"

"I've missed you, too," Emily told her, smiling. "But you'll get to see me every day from now on. Is that nice?"

"Yup!" The girl beamed as Emily carried her over to the pile of beanbags in the corner. "An' will you play hide 'n' seek wif me?"

"Of course I will," the woman promised, seeing Jarod go over to join in a game with his son and nodding a smiling greeting to Ethan. "If you want, I'll even tuck you into bed tonight and read you a story. Would you like that?"

"Ooooh, yes!" the girl squealed in delight, bouncing on her knee as they curled up together on the beanbags. "Goody, goody, goody!"

Emily read the girl's favorite book and helped color in a picture, before deciding that she couldn't wait any longer.

"I'm going to go see someone," she explained, seeing the girl's face fall slightly, "but I promise I'll be back soon. Before bedtime."

Michaela looked at her steadily for a second before nodding. "Okay. An' will you give me my baff and put on my PJs?"

"If you want me to," Emily agreed, smiling and thinking that this was almost like having a daughter of her own, without having had to go through all the labor and pregnancy.

Leaving the playroom, she followed the directions her brother had given, riding the elevator up to the top story and seeing the name on the temporary plate attached to the door. Yuri Singer. For a moment, she stared at it, taking a deep breath, before knocking.

"Come in."

She pushed open the door, seeing that Yuri was already standing, having clearly risen from his workstation, and she enjoyed the look of surprise on his face, melting quickly into pleasure, as he saw her, moving over to hug her. Their relationship had managed to regain some of its former affectionate behaviour. Only the most personal acts were unable to be performed, the camera always remaining in the backs of their minds, particularly to Emily, who, not having grown up with them, was more aware of their presence.

"I wondered if you'd find out that I'd been transferred up here," Yuri greeted her, guiding her over to the sofa in the middle of the room and sitting beside her, his arm around her shoulders.

"Jarod called me," she admitted. "Actually, right after you decided to come, but I thought I'd give you a little time to settle in first."

He reached forward to lightly kiss her forehead. "I've missed you."

"Me, too." She smiled. "There was this great opening on the staff at the Dallas Times Herald…"

Yuri grinned at her teasing, kissing her fingers as she continued. "Did you really think I'd stay up there when you and all my family are down here?"

"Are you staying?"

His eyes were full of eagerness, and brightened further as she nodded. "For as long as you stay here," she promised, brushing the backs of her fingers down his cheek and then lightly touching her lips to his.

* * * * * * * * *

Morgan looked down at Gabriel, who lay in a nest of blankets in a corner of the room close to the radiator, Toto curled up beside him, one of the baby's arms wrapped around his pet. His face was flushed, but he was getting over his cold, now that she was forcing him to take his medicine, a thing Gabriel had managed to avoid with his father. There had been several scenes, but Morgan had been firm, and Gabriel had eventually yielded. A fit of sulking usually followed each dose, but they never lasted long.

She knelt beside her son, gently stroking his hair and bending down to kiss his cheek. She had been right to come here. The constant demands Gabriel placed on her attention, the time she was spending with her father, and Jarod's comforting but unobtrusive presence was helping her to recover from the pain of her loss. She occasionally thought of Peter, but only during her rare unoccupied moments, and they were very few indeed.

During those moments, her thoughts dwelt on their time together. He had been the man who had taken her virginity, a prize she knew he valued, and that was one more reason for his memory to stay fresh and tender within her. His humor had made her laugh, both on their date in America, now many months earlier, and on her more recent trip to Paris. She had been almost surprised at her reluctance to go then, but she had had to keep her promise. However, throughout those days, her thoughts had remained on those back in America, mostly on her son, on Merritt and on Jarod, who was still bedridden within the Centre. It had been surprising to her at the time, but showed where her true feelings lay. With that realization, she had come around to the idea that her future lay not with that old school friend, but with her family, and perhaps an even older friend than Peter.

"Momma?"

She looked up to find Merritt in the doorway and stood up to hug her, walking her over to the sofa and sitting beside her.

"I haven't seen much of you this weekend," Morgan apologized. "But Jarod did say you wanted to see me, when we were talking during the week."

"Yeah, I… I do," the young woman agreed, and Morgan saw her twisting the ring on her left hand. It took her mother a moment to notice which finger it was on, and she stared for a moment before gently drawing Merritt's left hand onto her lap.

"Is it about this?" she asked softly, tapping the sparkling diamond, and seeing her daughter's face flush red.

"Not… not really," Merritt protested. "But it's kind of about the future, too, like that."

Morgan looked down at the thin band. "Is this from Jordan?"

The young woman nodded, her cheeks burning, before looking up to see the smile on Morgan's face, as the woman bent down to kiss her cheek.

"Congratulations, baby," Morgan murmured, hugging her, before drawing back to meet her gaze. "But you aren't going to hurry into it, are you?"

"Oh, no!" Merritt protested immediately, and Morgan hushed her, so she wouldn't wake Gabriel.

"You've got plenty of time," her mother reminded her. "Don't rush it."

"I won't," the girl vowed. "But I wanted to talk to you about something else. Jordan said he'd talk to you about this later." She drew her hand back and began twisting the ring again. "Momma, I got an idea about what I want to do for a job when I was in Australia."

Morgan slid her arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Tell me, baby."

"I want to be a vet," Merritt stated. "But 'specially a horse vet. I loved working with horses and I'd really like to keep doing it."

"That sounds like a great idea," Morgan responded warmly, unsurprised by the suggestion. "And I think you'd be very good at it. When you've finished your studies here, we'll see about getting you a place at university, to study veterinary medicine, and you could specialize from there."

Merritt hugged her. "I'm glad you like it," she said. "I was worried you'd think it was kind of silly."

"I'd love to see you in that kind of field," Morgan explained. "Actually, I'd love to see you working anywhere except the Centre."

Merritt pulled a face. "Don't take this the wrong way, Momma," she began, "but I'd never want to work there."

"Not even if we opened a stable?" Morgan teased. "We've got lots of room."

The young woman looked thoughtful. "Well, maybe in very extenuating circumstances…"

Morgan chuckled. "Can you imagine me riding a horse?"

"About as easily as I'd imagine you riding an elephant," Merritt retorted, and Morgan thought she saw a knowing gleam in her daughter's blue eyes. "How is Peanuts Parker anyhow?"

"Bine has a effalunt?" a sleepy voice asked from the corner, and Morgan looked around in time to see her son crawling out of the nest, dragging his blanket with him. When he was close enough, she lifted him up onto her lap, tucking the blanket around his feet and rocking him gently, hoping he would fall asleep again, as she began to talk with her daughter about the work Merritt had been doing in school.

Act III

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

Jarod picked up the book that he had taken from the university library in Dallas about the correct way of reading the MRI scan results. He had borrowed several copies of it, and Jordan and Yuri already had two others. The machines were being unpacked and set up in the room beside the infirmary, in which Joseph lay, still only semi-conscious. Tests Jarod had done showed that the healer had apparently lost all feeling in the left side of his body, but had managed to move his right hand to touch Julia, whose voice he seemed to recognize when she came to see him.

"J… Jarod?"

The Pretender looked up to smile at the blond young man who stood nervously in the doorway and wave him into the room. Alexander entered hesitantly and approached the sofa.

"Can I do something for you, Alexander?"

"Well, I… I saw all the things being delivered, down at the back entrance, all the boxes."

"Oh, yes," Jarod agreed, smiling. "The MRI machines."

"I was wondering if I could help -- a bit," Alexander asked quietly. His eyes strayed down to the book in Jarod's hand. "I always liked -- technology."

"How much have you used?" Jarod prompted.

"Not much, really," the young man admitted, somewhat reluctantly. "I mean, I never used it, but I saw a lot in the labs where I was working and stuff. And when I was in the infirmary, after I broke my arm, there was lots there."

Jarod picked up the book that lay on the other cushion of the sofa and held it out, smiling. "I'd be really glad if you would, Alexander. We've got a lot to do."

Alexander sat down on the very edge of the armchair cushion after accepting the book, his expression expectant. "Like what?"

After sighing deeply and dropping the book he held onto the sofa, Jarod explained the situation as much as he could, seeing a flash of fear appear in Alexander's eyes. It was obvious, however, that he was suppressing his anxiety in order to do whatever he could, wanting to be helpful.

"Dad?"

Jarod glanced over his shoulder to find Jordan in the doorway that divided their apartments and waved him into the room, seeing the young man opposite tense slightly.

"Son, this is Alexander. He was brought here after you left for Australia. Alexander, this is my son, Jordan."

Jordan offered his right hand, and Jarod was pleased to see Alexander shake it, albeit nervously, without sending a confirmatory glance in the older man's direction. Jordan took a seat on the sofa beside his father, the index finger of his left hand in a similar place in the book to that at which his father was.

"So what happens now, Dad?"

Jarod smiled. "Within an hour, the machines should be ready for use downstairs, so we'll go and have a look, to make sure we know what we're doing before we start. Ramona and Trevor are making up rosters for all the residents, including us."

"How long d'you think it'll take to get through everyone?" Jordan asked curiously.

"It's hard to tell," the older man mused. "It'll depend on how long each test takes. Hopefully only a week or so." Jarod took a sheet of paper out of his pocket and spread it out on the coffee table, seeing the two young men lean over it. "We've got five 'rooms' made up from the large area next to the infirmary. The walls have been lined with lead."

"Five?" Alexander looked up. "Don't we only have four machines?"

"Yes, that's true," Jarod agreed. "But we need a room so that we can watch and record the test results." He attempted a weak grin. "We could be spending several days at a stretch in there, so we'd better like it."

"Jarod, Jordan and Alexander to the infirmary," the loudspeaker attached to the ceiling in the corner of the room announced, and the man rose to his feet.

"That sounds like us," he smiled. "Let's go take a look."

The elevator carried the trio down to the infirmary, and Jarod led the way along to the rooms that had been set aside for the machinery, entering what had formerly been a large, empty space and was now divided into five small rooms. One of the Sanctuary guards had been waiting in the hall and entered with them. Jarod turned to him.

"Will you bring Yuri down here, please?"

Nodding, the guard left the room, and Jarod went into the central space, seeing that it contained four windows, one looking out at each of the MRI machines. A large desk ran the entire length of the walls, except for the single door entrance, and the machines that would display and record the test results already stood waiting on the bench, along with four laptops that, Jarod hoped, had been networked so that information only needed to be entered once.

"Wow," Jordan mused. "They got this done really fast."

"It's necessary," Jarod returned grimly, comparing the machinery in front of him with that he had memorized from the book he had read.

At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned to see Yuri, the guard walking behind him, step into the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the conflict of emotions in Jordan's eyes and guessed what his son was feeling. This was the man who had helped come up with treatments for Jacob, and for that Jordan owed him a lot. It was difficult to see him so closely guarded, and sometimes cuffed. Jarod was distracted as the guard gave him a sheet of paper, which he read and then took over to the wall, attaching it with a strip of Sellotape.

"We're starting the first scan at 8am tomorrow," he told the others in the room, running his eyes down the list of names and times. "And we're going to be busy."

"I'll say," Jordan agreed, moving up beside him and eyeing the list, before winking at his father. "Early night tonight, then."

"Absolutely," Jarod agreed, knowing that he was being teased as he ruffled his son's hair. He turned to Yuri. "I left a book in your room about all this. Did you get it?"

Nodding, Yuri showed that he was carrying it in the pocket of his black pants, and Jarod waved at the four consoles.

"Let's experiment for a little, so we know what we're doing."

Jarod watched as the others sat down in three of the four chairs, keeping an eye on Alexander as he took the fourth chair, but the youngest Pretender's expression revealed both his enthusiasm at this new experience and his determination to learn how to use it. Smiling, Jarod turned to his own machine and matched what he had read to the equipment in front of him, as the other Pretenders were doing.

After almost half an hour, when they were all confident that they could use the equipment easily and correctly, Yuri was escorted back to his room and Jarod turned to his son as an idea struck him.

"You know, Jordan," he suggested, "Alexander would probably love to see your greenhouse. Why don't you take him down?"

"Sure." Jordan turned to his new acquaintance. "Let me show you, Alexander. I think you'll like it. And you can help me with it, if you want."

Alexander smiled faintly. "That sounds really nice," he admitted, moving towards the door. "I like plants."

Jarod smiled at his son and watched the two young men leave the room before turning off the four screens and the laptops on which results could be recorded. As he was pushing in the last of the chairs, he heard the sound of quiet footsteps behind him, turning to find Julia, her baby girl in her arms, standing in the doorway. He went over and eased the warm bundle out of her grasp, guiding her over to a seat and taking one opposite, seeing the lack of color in her face and the concern in her eyes as she nervously chewed her bottom lip, her anxiety about Joseph obvious in her eyes.

<"He'll be okay,"> he promised softly. <"We're doing the best we can.">

Julia sent a weak smile in his direction. "You needn't lie to me, Jarod," she replied quietly, in his native language. "I know you're struggling. I used to be a pretender, too, remember?"

He sent her a curious glance, hoping to distract her. "How did they find out that you were able to do what you did in Berlin?"

She sighed, drawing the light jacket she wore more closely around her and running a hand through her hair.

"I made the mistake of naming the Herr Direktor before I had been introduced to him," she stated ruefully.

"Was that why you worked for him?"

"They thought that, if I knew that much about him, I'd know enough to be able to know what he was planning. I was supposed to be his secretary, but they were scared I'd see other documents I shouldn't have, like the memos about my son and daughter."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "But wouldn't you know what they said without seeing them?"

She smiled. "I think they forgot about that."

He chuckled. "And I thought Germans were supposed to be logical thinkers." Jarod glanced at the technical equipment in the room before meeting her gaze again. "I was wondering whether you might want to give us a hand." Jarod reached into his pocket and pulled out the book, offering it to her. "Interested?"

Julia shook her head. "You have three competent pretenders to help you, Jarod. You don't need a woman pretending to be a pretender. And anyway," she sighed, "I really don't think I have the energy right now…"

Jarod nodded, repocketing the book. "I understand." He stood, offering his free hand. "Shall we go see Joseph?"

When she nodded, he rose and gently but firmly prevented her from taking the baby, sliding his free arm around her shoulders as they left the room, heading for that in which the healer lay.

As they entered, the nurse sitting in the corner stood up, and, at a nod from Jarod, left the room. The psychic approached the bed, slipping into the chair beside it, and picked up the man's hand.

<"Joseph,"> she murmured quietly, in German. <"Can you hear me?">

There was a tiny movement in response from the man on the bed, a thing that had not happened since his collapse, and Jarod found himself holding his breath, his arms tightening slightly around the baby in his arms, as Julia leaned forward, tightening her grasp on the man's hand.

<"Liebst',"> she urged. <"It's Julia. Please, darling, look at me.">

A soft sigh broke the silence following Julia's plea, and Jarod looked at the child he held, but baby Mary was still fast asleep. Jarod looked up at the patient in time to see Joseph's eyelid flicker, before his right eye opened slightly. The left side of his face was still motionless, as was the whole left side of his body, but Jarod could see the fingers of Joseph's right hand move as they tightened around Julia's thumb. The Pretender stepped up to the bedside, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder, as the patient's mouth opened.

Julia picked up a piece of gauze from the bedside table, dampened it in a small bowl of water and dabbed at Joseph's white lips. The man's tongue eased out of his mouth and licked at the water that formed in the corner of his mouth, blinking several times, and then his gaze seemed to focus and he managed a lop-sided and very faint smile. After a long moment, his mouth opened and he was obviously struggling to speak.

<"What is it, Joseph?"> she asked. <"What do you want to say?">

Jarod looked around and saw a large notepad on the nurse's table. Putting Mary on her mother's lap, he seized the pad and a pen. Easing the healer's hand out of Julia's, he placed the pen gently between Joseph's fingers and slid the pad underneath his hand, supporting it at an angle so that the man in the bed could read what he wrote. The younger man seemed to understand what was wanted, because his fingers immediately tightened around the pen and he struggled to make it move. The pen managed to make several marks on the paper, before Joseph's eye shut in obvious exhaustion, perspiration standing out in beads on his forehead and slipping onto the pillow. Easing the paper out from beneath Joseph's hand, Jarod read the letters, managing to make the squiggles into two words, one below another.

<"Angelo?"> he asked finally. <"Did you want to know about Angelo?">

The white face nodded slightly on the pillow, Joseph's right eye opening again to focus on Jarod's face. The Pretender approached the bed, leaning over the pillow.

<"You did it, Joseph,"> he told the healer, forcing a wide smile. <"You managed to undo some of the damage that Raines caused. Not everything, but he's a lot better than he was. When you feel a little better, we'll bring him up to see you.">

Joseph blinked several times in agreement, managing another half-smile, and Jarod looked down at the paper again, managing to decipher the faint squiggles, thinking idly that it was fortunate the baby girl didn't have a longer name, or her father would never have managed to write it.

<"Your daughter is just fine, Joseph."> He placed the bundle against the crook of the man's right arm, seeing him drop the pen so that he could touch the small foot, his fingers tightening around it as Jarod continued. <"Your sons are, too. A little worried about you, of course, but they can also come and see you when you're better."> He gently placed a hand on the younger man's right shoulder. <"Rest now, Joseph. Get some sleep.">

The healer's eye slid closed immediately, and his fingers relaxed, as Jarod picked up the baby girl. He helped Julia to her feet, and gently guided her away from the bed.

"Let's leave him to sleep," he murmured in her ear. "We'll go down and get something to eat."

"What… are you doing for him?" she murmured, audibly swallowing a lump in her throat, as they left the room and the nurse returned to take her seat.

Jarod outlined the treatment, most of which was to treat the blood clot. The brain condition was not treatable at this stage, although they were working on it. Now that he seemed to be conscious, they could begin physical therapy, but Jarod wasn't confident that it would do a lot of good. Joseph would continue to deteriorate as the brain tissue broke down, and the Pretender wondered privately if they should bring the man's sons in to see him while he could still recognize them, but he didn't want to suggest that, and hoped that nobody else would think of it, even as he guided the psychic out into the hall, heading for the elevator and the large dining room.

* * * * * * * * *

The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware

Grayson Parker walked in circles in the hallway outside the operating room, hands clasped behind his back, head down in thought. A lot was riding on this, and if it didn't work, he'd have to try another angle. The most important thing was not to lose Catherine, and she was treading a dangerously thin line at the moment.

Though he had no proof, he suspected she had been involved in the theft of several Centre projects over the last few years. The Triumvirate was in the dark about those, receiving dummy reports on the progress of the research, prettying it up so that they'd think the subjects came and went willingly, but Hermann Bruce knew the truth. He had been the one to pilot the programs from the beginning. He had not only given this particular project his blessing, he had even suggested the idea in a roundabout way.

Catherine's inner sense, combined with Major Charles' intelligence and inherent Pretender skills, would make a formidable being… if they could just get that far in the process. At the moment, they were performing the insemination in conjunction with some other minor surgery she needed. She'd be none the wiser once she awakened, until the test came back positive. He'd need to make sure he romanced her once she was well enough, to provide an adequate cover.

He and Raines had it all planned. He just hoped nothing happened to complicate the process. There was always the danger with any surgical procedure that something could go wrong, and as he paced, he worried. She was far too valuable to lose, but they were going to harvest some of the extra eggs, just in case…

Morgan stood behind the one-way glass that had been installed between the cell in which the old Chairman languished and the one next door, to allow him to be observed. A microphone allowed the person to hear what was being said. The old man talked almost constantly now, his voice hoarse and rough, but he never seemed to notice it. He had collapsed that morning and a doctor had examined him, giving his assessment that the man had only hours to live. Broots had begged her to come back from Dallas, not wanting the responsibility on his own shoulders.

Her face wore a glare as she listened to what he was saying. This wasn't new to her. For the first few weeks, all his ramblings had been transcribed and she had read them every night, hatred at his activities burning inside her. But when they became repetitive, she hadn't bothered to read the soliloquies anymore. This was an oft-visited topic, one she hated to hear about, being the one that had lead to the eventual murder of her mother.

"Call me when he's gone," she snapped to the sweeper in the corner, and the man nodded.

Leaving the room, she let the door slam shut, peering in through the small window to take her last look at the dying man, indifference replacing the hatred in her heart. She took a personal interest in all the projects except this one. This was the one she couldn't care less about.

* * * * * * * * *

Prometheus Building
Dallas, Texas

"Slight degeneration in the frontal lobe," Yuri announced, setting the machine to print out the test results and making a note on the pad on the desk in front of him.

Jarod looked around to see the bed in the MRI slide out and Rebecca approach it from the corner of the room to pick up her daughter. He felt his heart sink. This was the first of the Seraphim to be scanned, and, as he watched Tempest's blond head droop sleepily onto her mother's shoulder, the result of the mild sedative that had been administered to keep her calm during the test, Jarod wondered how many more of the children would show signs of degeneration.

"Excuse me, Jarod," a voice asked from the doorway. "Will you come up to the nursery? Gabriel's a little upset."

Jarod got up as quickly as he could from his chair and moved past Ramona into the hall, waiting impatiently for the elevator. The nursery itself was empty, the children being kept in their rooms until they were taken down to be scanned, but howls were audible from Gabriel's room, and Jarod entered to find his son lying facedown on his bed, kicking his legs and hitting the mattress with small fists, as Sara stood nearby, a cup in her hand, her expression one of concern. Approaching the bed, Jarod gathered his son in his arms.

"What's the matter, Gabriel?" he asked anxiously.

His son howled, burying his face in Jarod's throat, and the man rocked him for a moment as the sobs became gradually less frequent, his cries decreasing in volume.

"All gone," the child moaned, looking up at his father accusingly. "You taked dem all away!"

"Who's all gone?"

"Evveybody!" Gabriel wailed. "Raffi an' Annie an' Gideon an' Uriel an'…"

"No, honey," Jarod interrupted soothingly. "They're not gone, I promise. They're just sleeping."

He stood up, a still-sobbing Gabriel in his arms, and carried him across the hall into Angelique's room. The girl lay on her bed, covered with a light blanket, cheeks flushed and blond lashes lying on her cheeks, her chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths, her doll held in a relaxed grip. Nancy sat in the corner, and looked up as they entered, relief in her eyes when she saw Jarod.

"See, baby?" Jarod urged softly. "She's still here."

Gabriel nodded, hiccupping loudly, and reached out his hands for his small playmate, but Jarod gently caught them in his free hand.

"No, honey. We don't want to wake her up. But she'll be all right in a few hours, and then you can play with her. Okay?"

"Why, Daddy?" Gabriel demanded, as they went back into the hallway.

"We're going to do a special test," Jarod explained, walking back into Gabriel's room. "And, as it's very loud, we don't want to upset you, so we'll give you something so that you'll be asleep when it happens." He sat down on the boy's bed and cuddled him close. "I'd never do anything to hurt you, Gabriel," he promised solemnly. "Never, ever."

Still sniffing, his son hugged the man around the neck. "Love you, Daddy," he snuffled, and Jarod smiled.

"I love you too, baby." Taking up the cup from Sara, who retreated to the doorway and, after waiting for a moment to ensure she wasn't wanted, left the room, he held it out. "Will you drink this for me?"

Nodding, Gabriel took the cup and tasted the contents. Jarod watched him slowly sip the sedative medication, realizing that this proved beyond doubt the Seraphim's strong mental connection with each other, and which apparently continued during periods of natural sleep, if mere sedation had caused such upset in his son. The thought was repellent, but at the same time intriguing, and he wondered how far it extended. It suddenly occurred to him that, if surgery were required to treat this problem, they would have to find some way of keeping the conscious Seraphim calm while the others were under anesthetic. It only added to what was already looking like a major problem.

Gabriel handed back the empty mug, wrapping his arms around his father's neck and resting his head on Jarod's shoulder. Placing the mug back on the table, Jarod rose from the bed and went to the rocking chair in the corner, sitting down and covering Gabriel with the blanket that lay over one arm, starting the chair rocking as he hummed the lullaby his mother had taught him as a boy, and which Gabriel loved.

"Cree craw toad's foot…"

* * * * * * * * *

Jarod watched as Sara carried Gabriel into the room and gently put him on the long, narrow bed, moving away and behind the protective lead wall as Alexander started the machine. The older man was unable to keep his eyes from the screen, seeing the images appear in rapid succession, searching desperately for any signs of degeneration. It was only once the scan was complete and the young man announced that it was clear that Jarod allowed himself to breathe freely again.

He had been the same during Jordan's scan, the night before. Of all those he was examining, the thought of his sons falling victim to the terrible affliction that had so far affected almost two dozen of Sanctuary's residents was one of his worst nightmares brought to life. He knew Jordan had been the same when Yuri was studying Jarod's own scan results, having felt his son's fear as the machine boomed around him.

The fact that, so far, none of the Pretenders had shown signs of deterioration made him wonder, for the first time, if there was a pattern, and he made a mental note to look for anything, even as Sara lifted Gabriel from the hard bed and Sebastian appeared with Gideon in the room