Realization

April 23, 2000

Jarod struggled to sit up as the breakfast was pushed under the door on the tin tray. The weeks of inactivity were having an affect and he had lost a lot of weight. He also had no energy. There seemed, as there had so often seemed in the past, no reason to get out of bed. Now there was no one forcing him to get up and now it was easy to lie there and think.

He had plenty to think about. His mind traveled back over the three and a half years of freedom and to the time before, when every day had a set pattern of eating sleeping and performing simulations. Now it was the same, the tedious pattern that seemed like it would never end.

A quick glance over at the tray showed the contents and Jarod moaned softly and rolled over with his face to the wall. The small cell gave him an almost constant feeling of claustrophobia and also created a terrible feeling of nausea. He hadn't eaten for almost two weeks, only occasionally drinking from the tap in the room.

Suddenly the image of one man came into his head.

Sydney.

Jarod had avoided thinking about him for almost the entire time but now he let his thoughts travel in that direction, not only to Sydney but to the others whose opinions he valued. He hadn't wanted to think what their reactions would be at knowing that he was in a place like this, and at this point

Jarod's eyes travelled around the small room and he shuddered. How would they feel if they could see him in such a place? The fact that he had been in a similar situation for so many years and that they had seen him there for all that time, didn't now cross his mind. What now mattered was the fact that they must not be made aware of what had happened to him. The shame was not something he felt would be easy to get rid of and until then he didn't feel that he could contact them.

May 3, 2000

Miss Parker sat at her desk, unthinkingly fiddling with the small card, the last contact that Jarod had made, now two months earlier. The phrase had been difficult for Broots to translate, with the source of the quote as obscure as the man who had sent it to her. She could see the ironic similarities in the lack of knowledge about the source of the excerpt.

Broots had managed to trace it to a Greek temple at Delphi, a Spartan Battle Manual, Diogenes Laertius, Plutarch, Linnaeus or Socrates. The source was as incomprehensible as the sender.

Miss Parker was finally beginning to believe that Jarod may never contact her again and, surprising though it was for her to realise, she was beginning to miss the games which had brought amusement into a life which, for so long, had been deprived of such entertainment. Now it seemed that life was becoming gradually worse, as the few bright lights that had illuminated it were gradually diminishing.

Even Sydney, who had provided comfort and support even when she tried to push him away, was withdrawing into a world of his own. She began to realise how much she had missed all of the previous friendship that the two had shown and now, when there seemed no hope of it coming back, did she fully realise what she had lost.

May 3, 2000

Sydney sat at his desk, staring blankly at the opposite wall. Two months. Two whole months, or near enough. He went over in his mind what he had done on the last occasion that Jarod had spoken to him. By telephone, of course. It had been many months since they had met face to face. He thought of any hint that Jarod had given which might now help in locating him. Sydney was torn between the idea that Jarod was unable to contact them, or that he was unwilling to contact them.

"This is Sydney."

"What makes a person guilty?"

"I'm not sure I understand, Jarod."

"What is the difference between a guilty person and an innocent one? Is it the fact that the guilty person has committed an act, or is it the fact that he has been found guilty of committing it?"

Sydney had considered the question, as he usually did, with a moment of quiet thought. As he was about to answer, however, Jarod suddenly hung up the phone.

Sydney now wondered whether an answer he could have given may have helped. Would it have encouraged the pretender to maintain contact? He had no idea but the thought that he had been responsible for the division caused Sydney more pain than anyone else at the Centre realized.

Part 4

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