Jacqueline sat on the couch, a leg crossed tentatively over another. She glanced up, then back at Jocasta. "I suppose you want me to start the conversation first?"

Jocasta narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. Sitting on the floor wasn't the best place to look intimidating or at least receive a fraction of Jacqueline's demeanor. "Please do," she said. "I have as many questions as you have answers."

A beat passed between them. Then, a loud, retching sound ripped across the living room. Jacqueline raised an eyebrow. "Someone not feeling well?" she prompted.

"Just a friend who overdid himself." Jocasta waved a hand in the air in a dismissive flair. "He'll be fine."

Jacqueline whirled a bit towards the source of the sound. Markel was probably hunched over a dirty toilet. The carpet he threw up on the first time lay bunched up by the window. With their reason for going to New York showing up on their doorstep, there was no time to. "Doesn't seem like it," she noted. What was her deal? What did she know about any of them? "Has he had anything to eat since that happened?"

Jocasta shook her head. "He lived mostly on saline drips on the way here," she said. "He wasn't exactly conscious the whole way."

"Make sure to feed him anything when he feels up for it," Jacqueline advised. "Saline can only take him as far."

"I don't think you're here to talk about our friend's condition," Jocasta interjected. Still, she took to heart what the girl said. "What did you want to tell us, for you to have tracked us here yourself?"

Jacqueline winced when another round of retching rang across the flat. "I suppose I'm here to ask what you are doing outside of Primeva," she said. "And what I have to do with it."

Jocasta stared at the girl. Apart from the stark blond hair falling in combed locks falling to her waist, she looked just like any other girl Jocasta had observed in the city streets. Dressed in a beige trench coat, dark slacks tucked into salmon pink ankle boots, and a straw-colored fedora hat, she looked as intimidating as a pile of hay. Nevertheless, her sharp blue eyes held secrets to last people a lifetime to uncover, spilling over as wit and sense.

"You have everything to do with it," Jocasta answered. "We found your file in the records database of the overseer of our trial's Game. You were The Corrector's first trial. Perhaps, you can help us stop Primeva and put an end to all of this."

A derisive laugh tore off Jacqueline's lips. "Let's back up a bit, shall we?" she said, flashing Jocasta a placating gesture.

Jocasta frowned. "Jacqueline—"

"Jaq," the older girl snapped, her eyes darkening. "I hate that other name, so please, call me Jaq."

"Okay, Jaq," Jocasta said, keeping her tone controlled. From the corner of her eye, she watched Alon and Kevan stalk to where Ji-yeon called them. Perhaps to check on Markel or whatever. She'd bother with them later. Right now, her focus should be on no one else other than Lady Shaw here. "I don't think we have enough time to delve into each other's stories. Just tell us if you can help us of not."

"Fair enough," Jaq replied. She straightened her back. "No. I won't help you."

Jocasta's eyes widened. "What do you mean—"

Jaq laid a palm in the air, cutting Jocasta's words off. "Before you go off on me, hear me out first," she said. "I'm not kidding when I said I want us to learn about each other first. Because you will see where I'm coming from, and I'll see the same with you."

"You are not wrong in wanting to put an end to my father's empire, but I'll warn you it will be next to impossible," Jaq continued, removing her fedora and setting it beside her on the couch. "Primeva, and in connection, Shaw Industries is like a grass root system at this point. Uproot them, and you'll risk uprooting other institutions. They might be essential in keeping the world running. Some might result in more people getting hurt. Eradicating evil is as evil as it gets."

Jocasta shot up, her fists clenched at her sides. "What are we supposed to do, then?" she said. "I have my life stolen from me without my consent. We were experimented on, stuck with endless needles. Your father sent us into a death game to get blood on our hands. And for what? For him to filter out which abilities were best for his mini-militia? You're telling me to keep enabling that system, to continue allowing that vile bitch wreck thousands, if not, millions of lives all over the planet?"

Despite sitting down and Jocasta's height towering over the couch, Jaq stared her down. "I condone my father and his father's ideals as much as the next man, but I will not risk the life I've lived here for the sake of your foolish activities," she said. "Because of you, I've had sentries sniff me out in several locations. I can't even enjoy a proper date with my boyfriend without having to run around, tackling soldiers. This has got to stop."

"And somehow, we were at fault?" Jocasta argued. "Is that why you made it a point to track us down and show up at our door? To rub it on our faces that you wanted nothing to do with this so you could go down and enjoy your oh-so-perfect life? What did we even do? You are the one who ran away from home, and now, Daddy wants you back."

"Cut it off, Jocasta," a weak gurgle rang from the immediate hallway. Her gaze landed on Markel, leaning against the peeling paint of the wall as if his life depended on it. Shadows pulled on his features, crumpling them into a canvas of pain. When had he staggered from the toilet, and how much of their conversation had he heard? "We need her, but she does not need us. Mind your place."

If that hurt, Jocasta decided to tamp it down. Markel looked like he would topple over if he took another step. Perhaps, the fatigue and the hunger got to his head, and he wasn't thinking clearly at the moment.

"Apologies for the chaos," he said, pushing off the wall and sauntering towards the couch. He sank into it and rested his head on the back rest. "You don't mind if I carry out the conversation like this, do you?"

Jaq blinked. Seemed like she didn't know whether to be pissed or concerned. She settled with a look of pained worry. Tch. Hypocrite. "Are you the head of this crew?" she asked, completely ignoring Jocasta. The nerve. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Peachy," Markel replied. He attempted to flash a gesture in the air, but his limb died out halfway. "We are, of course, saddened by your refusal to help us in bringing down Primeva, but there is one path we both could take as a compromise."

When Jaq didn't say anything nor moved, Markel pushed on. "We only ask for your help in learning everything about Primeva, in getting me into their most guarded database and systems of operations, and in figuring out the best way to get Shaw's—sorry—The Corrector's attention," he said. "In exchange, we will draw out the sentries' attention back to us and away from you. That way, we get everything we want without much resistance."

"Are you sure you're in sick bay a few minutes ago?" Jaq grinned.

Markel groaned. "About that—" His words cut off when he gagged. He peeled off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom. More heaving. This time, it was dry. Scratchy. It would be a miracle if he could still speak tomorrow.

That left Jaq back to Jocasta.

Jaq laid a hand over another on her knee. "Well, your friend has a good head on his shoulders," she said. A hint of awe and respect laced around her tone. "Convincing, too."

"So, you're going to do what he suggested?" Jocasta prodded.

The older girl nodded. "As far as our cooperation is concerned," she said. "I will help you gather information about Primeva and my father, but I will not leave New York. You will force the sentries to leave me alone, and in return, I will give my father's empire into your hands."

"Fine," Jocasta rasped. "Deal."

Jaq hummed. "So, it brings me to the question of how in the world did you find me here," she said. "The last sighting I let Declan Conway get away with was Massachusetts. That's over five years ago."

Oh, so she knew about the journalist. "We got it from your friend in Paris," Jocasta answered. "We didn't catch her name, though."

"Paris, hmm..." Jaq tapped a hand on her chin in contemplation. "How did you find her?"

Jocasta glanced at Kevan who wisely stood by the only exit in the house. He was no doubt searching the immediate radius for any unwanted stream of thoughts. "We have an esper," she said. "He read your friend's thoughts within his scope, and we went from there."

That seemed to answer Jaq's internal questions as she bobbed her head. "Ah, AR-16097," she muttered. "How could I forget?"

Something about that manner of referring to people as numbers reminded Jocasta of Jaq's father. It helped her to never forget who they were dealing with. For all they knew, Jaq still worked for her father and was sent here to lure them.

"Stop that." Jaq's annoyed tone tore across the meager space between them.

Jocasta raised an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"I'd rather die than go back to Primeva," Jaq said. "That's why I spent most of my life hiding under new faces and new lives. My father can't catch me when I don't want to be caught. That's why he was following the breadcrumb trail you left, and how he found me in New York a few weeks ago."

"What did the man do to you?" Jocasta meant to ask in derision, but it came out as concern. Which Jaq interpreted as such.

Jaq shrugged. "Since I was the first trial under Grandfather's model of the Founding Chip, I've attained a rather...interesting ability," she said. She met Jocasta's gaze with a smile and tapped a finger to her temple. "Most people have a normal brain inside this hard skull. I have what most people claim to be an enhanced chunk of pink mass. But the truth is far from it."

"I have a computer within my synapses," Jaq said. "I learn quickly, and I can't ever forget a detail. I am smarter than a prodigy. It's like having the entire Internet's knowledge inside my head, as well as a number of skills and adaptive mechanisms. I am as much an artificial intelligence as I am human."

Jocasta's mouth parted. "That's..."

"I have learned to live with it," Jaq said. "But it doesn't make it any harder to blend in, to start living a normal life. I have to fight for it, and now that I've got a semblance of it, I'm willing to fight to keep it that way."

Jocasta averted her gaze and focused on the tips of her smuggled uggs instead. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't know."

"Hence, why I opted to know each other's backgrounds first," Jaq answered. "Your friend seemed to have grasped that immediately."

"Like you said, he's got a good head on his shoulders." Jocasta smiled.

Something shuffled from the alcove, and Markel popped into view again. He looked even more dead than before, but he managed to sink back into the couch. "What did I miss?"

Jaq tucked her hair behind one ear and clapped her hands once. "Here's the plan," she said. "Get me one of the sentries' tablets, and I will get you inside Primeva's security systems. From there, you can wreak havoc."

"And our families?" Markel prompted. "Was that part of the deal?"

Oh, Jocasta kind of forgot they were still doing that bit. Jaq shrugged. "You do with the information you mine from the database as you wish," she said. "All I will do is to get you inside without being traced."

Markel's eyelids drooped, and he started sagging against the couch. "That...would be nice," he said. Then, he passed out, plopping straight into Jaq's fedora hat.