Lord, Grant Me The Freedom…
Part 16
"The
freedom to fail is vital if you're going to succeed. Most successful people
fail from time to time, and it is a measure of their strength that failure
merely propels them into some new attempt at success."
Michael Korda
22 weeks to
go.
So he had managed
to survive more than half of his sentence and now it was the work, combined
with the effort of struggling to make a connection with Sydney that sent him,
exhausted, into a deep and dreamless sleep every night. He had tried not to
worry about the activities at the Centre, realizing from the feelings he
received through Angelo and, in some ways, from Sydney, that they were safe for
the time being. All he could hope now was that the medication which he had
instructed Miss Parker, during another phone call, to make would be sufficient
to reverse the damage done by the drugs and leave no lasting effects.
His biggest
fear was a complete lack of knowledge about activities within the Centre. He
had never, until this time, been completely unaware of the events within and
surrounding it but he had little time to concern himself with it. However a
second visit from his only visitor thus far forced those feelings to the
surface.
"Haven't
you heard anything?" Steve prompted.
"How
could I, in a place like this?" Jarod glanced around the room as he made
his point.
"But
Angelo - you don't know anything?"
"Angelo
is an empath, as you know. He know my feelings, I haven't got the capabilities
to work out his." Jarod told the white lie with the straight face and no
emotion. It wouldn't do to excite the man in front of him with the strange, new
skill he was developing.
"Where
are they?"
"I don't
know, exactly. I wouldn't let Parker tell me on the phone, in case the line
wasn't secure."
"I
should find them."
"And how
would you know where to look?"
"Tell me
where they are, Jarod, and I'll help you look after them."
"Can I
still trust you?"
"Have
you heard from him?"
"Not for
almost a month. But you know that already."
"Do you
think he's still alive?" Sydney looked at Parker as she sat in a chair on
the other side of the room.
"Syd,
I've never known as much about him as you have. I should be asking you that
question."
"Alive,"
a soft voice mewed.
"What?!"
Both Parker and Sydney spun around and stared at the savant who had crept into
the room, moments before, unnoticed. The overhead light had created a shadow in
which he had concealed himself, but he now came forward and climbed into an
empty chair.
"Jarod
alive. Can't get out. Won't get out."
Miss Parker
turned back and stared at Sydney. "Could Jarod be back at the
Centre?"
"No, I
assure you, Miss Parker," a new voice stated calmly. "He isn't."
"I...I'm
sorry Miss Parker but he...he knocked and you didn't hear him and when he heard
your voice, he came in and then I couldn't prevent him overhearing and..."
Broots trailed off as both Miss Parker and Sydney moved their amazed glances
from the intruder to the technician, who shrank behind the newcomer.
Angelo broke up
the silence in the room by ambling over and throwing his arms around the
newcomer. "Steve!"
At this, as
the former sweeper returned the embrace, Sydney got out of the chair. "I
knew you looked familiar, Steve McCaffrey. But what on earth are you doing
here?"
"I
wheedled your probable location out of Jarod, when I saw him two days
ago," Steve replied, as he shook the psychiatrist’s hand. "I thought
you might need my help."
"Jarod?
You mean you've seen him?" the older man asked eagerly.
"Twice,
in recent times."
"Where
is he?" The two men turned and stared as Miss Parker, unable to restrain
her curiosity, burst out with the question.
"Quite
safe, Miss Parker. It is Miss Parker, isn't it? It's been so long but I could
never forget that face." He smiled tenderly, and it was obvious that he
was reliving a fond memory, before his eyes became more focused and he
concluded his comment. "Even if it was once obvious on the face of someone
else."
"For the
last time, where is he?" Raines snarled.
"I've
told you, I don't know." The woman was turning sulky as the questioning
became increasingly aggressive and now she was refusing to give the little
information she had received earlier that day.
"From
what you do know, however, he disappeared from the Centre this morning. Is that
correct?" Lyle snapped.
The woman
stared moodily ahead and refused to answer.
"So you
won't tell us? Fine, well I'm sure we can change that situation." The
thumbless man nodded at the two sweepers who stood in the doorway. "Take
her down to the room that I prepared earlier."
The two men,
their faces expressionless, nodded in unison, moved forward and grabbed the
woman by the arms. As she was lifted off the ground, she began to struggle and
kick furiously.
"Stop."
The sweepers,
having now been made even more instantaneously obedient by their re-education
than ever before, halted immediately and waited for further orders. The man
nodded at his associate, who tilted a bottle over a small cloth and walked towards
the woman. She shook her head violently from side to side, but inexorably, and
ignoring her pleading eyes, his hand followed the movement of her head, at the
same time bringing the cloth closer to her face. Despite her struggles, the
fumes began to have their effect and by the time the cloth was sitting against
her mouth, her head hung down and her body was limp in the arms of the two men
who held her up.
"Now,
take her down to the room and get her ready. We will be down shortly."
The two men,
dragging the figure between then, marched out of the room and could be heard
walking down the hall. Lyle and Raines exchanged glances.
"Re-education?"
"In
circumstances like this, I believe it would be wise. We have no further use for
her when she's like this. A short course and we will only have one opponent to
deal with."
In another
part of the building, that other opponent watched the activity and glared
blackly at the figures on the screen, at the same time suppressing a small
shudder.