A day in the lab

by Solamenn

It's not easy being Astrid Farnsworth: you have to take care of Walter, feed Walter, and also sometimes save the world.

I hate that alarm clock. Stop you thing. Don't wanna wake up.

Astrid turned towards the bedside table, flung an arm out of the blanket and her fist hit the alarm clock. The beeping went on. She groaned and hit it again.

As the sound kept going on, she opened her eyes.

Phone. Great. And it's only... 4.

She sighed and picked up her mobile.

'Hello', she said.

'Agent Farnsworth' said Broyles' voice 'You are to be at the lab in one hour.'

'Yes sir.'

Getting up. Now. Now. Right now. Or maybe not.

She turned on her side, her phone still in hand. Mark was still sleeping, his face towards her. She resisted the impulse to wake him and got out of bed instead.

She headed to the kitchen and while the coffee was brewing, she glanced out of the window. It had stopped snowing, but the street was covered in white. No one was around and the orange glow of the street light made the virgin snow sparkle.

She yawned and poured the coffee in her cup. The apartment was cold but the smell warmed her, almost as much as the hot cup she held in her hand. She curled up in an armchair in the living room while slowly drinking. She heard footsteps behind her.

'Let me guess', said Mark's voice. 'Your lover decided he needed to see you right now.'

She didn't turn but smiled.

'There's coffee if you want.'

'Are you joking ?'

Mark fell heavily in the sofa in front of her. His hair was untidy and he had put his sweater on backward.

'I don't intend in really waking up. Actually, as soon as you're gone, I'll be back in bed, under those warm blankets, thinking about my poor darling who's out in the cold doing who-knows-what to save the country.'

She grinned.

'I'll probably be preparing more coffee or going to buy croissants.'

He laughed softly.

'To each his own, sweetie. You buy pastry to save the world, I wipe four year-olds' backsides and teach them the lovely song of the lovely cow that goes moo.'

She nodded.

'We both have wonderful jobs. The world will be an empty place after we're gone.'

Astrid took another sip and grimaced. The cup was empty. She put it back on the table in front of her and got up.

'I've got to hurry. Go back to bed, my love.'

He came to his feet and pulled her in a tight embrace. He kissed her. But she fled to the bathroom before she'd decide to blow her phone to smithereens and stay in for the rest of the day.

Mark's right. Maybe we should get new jobs. Leave the country and go to live in Brazil. Or in some exotic place where we wouldn't need to work and live happily ever after. What was this place he was talking about last month ? The Marquise Islands... That's it. The Marquise Islands. I even like the name.

When she was out of the bathroom, Mark was already back in bed. She sat by him.

'I'm going' she murmured softly.

'Can I hope you'll be back by 7 tonight? Anniversary dinner. I'll cook.'

'I'll try to be there in time.'

He squeezed her hand and she bent to kiss him. When he closed his eyes, she stepped out of the bedroom quietly.

Almost 4.45. I'll be late. On the other hand, I suppose they are all picking up a corpse or something gross and that usually takes them more time. Maybe I should really buy some pastry to Walter. He was really grumpy last time they woke him up in the middle of the night. Yes, he'd like some pastry.

She turned left and drove to Back Bay.

That's one thing that job taught me : where I can find good pastry anytime of the day and night.

She parked in front of a brightly lid small bakery. The window was covered in steam and made the red lettering stand brighter : 'The only real French boulangerie in Boston'. When Astrid got out of the car, the cold hit her. She gasped for air and hurried inside.

The shop had a tiny bell above the door that chimed when she opened it. No one was behind the wooden counter but the air smelled of fresh bread and coffee: it hinted at cozy breakfasts on a winter morning.

'Astrid ! What a delightful morning surprise ! What are you people doing about those power cuts ? I almost couldn't bake a thing today !'

That's Jacques. Big smile, warm welcome, almost instantly followed by a complaint. Still, the man is nice and a heavenly baker.

'Good morning Jacques. I can assure you that we are investigating the power cuts thoroughly.'

And which power cuts is he talking about ?

'I hope so, sweetheart. Otherwise you may come in here one morning and find only dough.'

'Ah, but Jacques, you know I can't tell you more, it's top secret.'

She winked at him and he answered with a booming laugh.

'So, what can I get you on this cold morning ?'

'Same as usual, please Jacques. My boss loves it.'

'The man has good taste.'

Obviously I can't tell him that Walter thinks his croissants enhance the effects of his favourite psychotropes.

She went back to her car, her arms laden with small carton boxes. She fumbled to take her keys out of her pocket and they fell to the ground. At this moment, the streetlights orange glow blinked and then completely went out.

Oh, those power cuts then. The ones that happen when I'm kneeling on a frozen asphalt to look for my car keys at 5 o'clock in the morning.

Astrid put down the boxes and took her mobile out. She used its light to illuminate the ground and below the car. When she finally glimpsed them, she quickly grabbed them, opened the car, threw unceremoniously the pastry on the back seat and started the car with the heater full on.

When she opened the door of the lab, Gene welcomed her with a distressed mooing sound.

'I'm coming, Gene... I'm coming to check on you in a minute...'

The lab was freezing too. Astrid put down the pastry on a chair and began to take off her gloves. Shivering, she went to check the heaters : both were stone cold. She switched them on and off until they began to radiate some warm.

Gene mooed again in the background.

Poor thing, no wonder he's lamenting if he spent the night in those arctic temperatures. Where are the blankets ?

She went to check in some cupboards and found a few old stained quilts.

That stain might be a shape-shifter's blood, this one might be oil, that one is definitely human blood. Poor Gene will have to make do.

She wrapped the cow in the blankets and rubbed his snout.

The heaters should have been working though. There were power cuts, right. But that never prevented an electric device to switch back on again if it hasn't been switched off in the first place. It almost seems as if those cuts have managed to short-circuit the switch. It needs investigating. And my nose is running. Bugger, it's really cold in here.

Astrid left the cow's side and went back to the heater. With a screwdriver she opened up a panel and peered inside the circuitry. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

At least, everything seems perfectly normal to me. I'm not sure I'd notice... uh oh... Hello there...

With the scewdriver, she delicately tipped a loose wire. The electric shock made her drop the tool and fall backwards.

Wow... Wow... What the heck was that?

She gingerly got back to her feet and rubbed her hands against her thighs. The sound made her look in dismay: little sparks remained on the fabric of her trousers where she had rubbed them.

She stamped her feet a few times to make sure most of the electricity had gone through her body then she warily approached her hand to a metallic desk. A small electric arc appeared even before she had touched it.

Curiouser and curiouser.

She put her hand on the ground, then moved it towards the metallic desk again. Nothing happened that time. She put her other hand to the ground and checked quickly that no other part of her body seemed to be carrying this current.

She suspiciously eyed the heater and went back to it. She touched it : it was stone cold again. She looked for the loose wire : microscopic sparks seemed to run through it.

The lab door slammed open and almost instantly Astrid heard Walter's raised voice : 'And it's freezing in here! I can't work in such a place!'

Astrid turned and saw Walter stomping down the steps, followed by Peter who grinned to her.

'Good morning Astrid', he said, 'How are you?'

'Morning. I'm a bit cold. And how are you both?'

'Ah!' exclaimed Walter angrily, 'It's not a good morning and no, it's not a bit cold. It's very cold ! And I really don't understand why you wouldn't let me touch that puddle!'

Walter crossed his arms, defiantly looking at his son.

'Because, Walter, there was radiation in that puddle. Now, stop sulking, you know you'll get a sample anyway.'

Goodness. Radioactive puddle samples. I'll die before I can ever see what The Marquises Islands look like.

Walter was getting redder in the face and Astrid could see the moment where he would start shouting and throwing a tantrum. She quickly stepped in front of him.

'Walter, did you have your breakfast yet? I stopped by Jacques and bought you a few pastries.'

This seemed to instantly deflate Walter.

'Oh, did you get croissants? I love croissants.'

'Sure I got croissants. Come on, let's go get them: they're somewhere over there.'

Sometimes you wouldn't realise this man is one of the most brilliant minds I have ever met.

Astrid and Walter picked up the boxes and headed to the back office. He sat with a glowing face then looked at her.

'I know I shouldn't have shouted after Peter. But sometimes I feel so frustrated. People treat me like a child, and I know it's best this way. But...'

All of a sudden, Astrid could see the tears welling up in his eyes. She quickly enfolded him in an embrace.

I know, Walter. I know. You are so right. We treat you, and me amongst others, like a child. And we know it's for your own good. Maybe for ours too. And I know you want to make up so badly for your past mistakes and your current failing to be as brilliant as you used to be. But think, Walter, think about what you did when you were that brilliant and also ruthless man. You may be a better man as you are now, so utterly trying to do good by Peter, and Olivia and the rest of the world. Even if the price to pay is half of your mind gone. You may have had the better deal in the end.

'It's ok, Walter, it's ok' she said.

What else can I say?

Astrid heard the lab door opening again and the noise of a stretcher being wheeled in.

Walter hastily put down his untouched croissant and said with joy 'That must be my corpse and the radioactive water!'

He stepped out and Astrid followed him with a sigh.

Olivia greeted her then she immediately started to assess the situation with her.

So it's bad, really bad. Now the anomalies may create radiation. Great. How can she keep her shirt without a crinkle ? Shape-shifter's blood ? That's a really really bad one. And an insect-like huge creature ? Who supposedly killed a John Doe ? Please ! That'll be enough for today thank you ! Aww, Peter is gawking at her. They're so cute. Though he must be very much in love to be looking at her with those eyes while she's talking about a corpse's decomposition rate.

'So' concluded Olivia 'can you and Walter take care of it?'

'Of course we can' answered Astrid.

'Of course we can' echoed Walter with enthusiasm. 'I can't wait to find out how all this is related!'

'Good' said Olivia 'Then Peter and I are going back to the scene to investigate. We may find some sort of clue. If there was a shapeshifter around, it means this incident is probably not random.'

In a matter of minutes, Peter and Olivia were gone. Astrid looked longfully at the closing door.

Once before, I was a field agent too. Not stuck in the lab all day. I may not have known all of what was going on, but I was actually doing things.

'Time to help, Astro!' shouted Walter delightfully. 'Get me a few buckets! We have to extract samples from this body.'

So, what will it be today? Blood? Mucus? Pus? Excrements?

She watched Walter putting on his lab coat and goggles and taking a scalpel. He positioned himself in front of the corpse which laid on an exam table. He sharply prodded a small protuberance on the man's arm : a jet of greenish fluid flew out.

Pus. Fantastic.

Three hours later, Walter was still happily prodding, cutting and sampling the corpse. A dozen vials were neatly aligned on a desk behind him, all containing bodily fluids of various colours and consistance.

Mostly bogey-coloured and slimy. Ugh.

'Do you need help, Walter?' asked Astrid, looking up from her computer screen.

'No, thank you dear. But if I need you to hold a bucket again, I'll tell you.'

Sure. It's not as if last time I held a bucket a loadful of the stuff ended on my shoes.

Astrid gave a mournful look at the trainers she was now wearing then went back to the computer.

So, first power cut occured two weeks ago and was followed by regular power cuts. The electricity company cannot be accounted for it and it seems to have no regular pattern though it only happens at night.

When she had checked back the heater half an hour before, the loose wire seemed pretty much like any loose wire and there was no more trace of those strange sparks of electricity. The heater was functioning normally and the lab was now almost back to its usual temperatures.

I may not be an expert in the field of electricity but I know something weird when I see it. I just can't believe that the F.B.I. has no file on those incidents. Just a few reports after interviewing the electricity company representative.

'Walter?'

'Yes Asteroid?'

'Is it possible to create another form of electricity than the one we know commonly?'

Walter put down his bloody seesaw.

'Now, that's a really good question. Actually, it's only theoritical stuff, but if you consider that the electric field is the local gradient of the electric potential...'

'The what is the local what? Walter, I'm sorry but I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Come on, dear. I'm sure you studied this at school.'

'I studied linguistics Walter, not science.'

Walter looked at her, genuinely concerned.

'But what are you doing in my lab then? It could be a very dangerous place for a novice, you know.'

Astrid laughed out loud. The man was so disarmingly sincere in his concern.

'Walter, that's so sweet of you to worry. But I've been managing for three years. And I'm not sure your experiments were the most dangerous stuff that happened in here.'

'Oh, that's good then. Now, about your question...'

'Forget it, Walter. Just tell me this : could any electric current leave some residual sparks on a human body that could in turn create an electric current ?'

'Are we talking about static electricity?'

'Something a bit more powerful.'

'Mmh, that might be interesting to study.'

Walter picked back up his seesaw, and with a frown on his brow, he started cutting the body's arm off. His mind was already on other things.

When her phone rang, Astrid picked it up distractedly. Morning had been full of surprises: pus, electric anomalies, radioactive water. To top it all, she now had to find a Jamaican take away. Walter was in the back office, at least his body was. The fumes coming from there indicated to Astrid that he was using his bong and might be actually far off. But he had ordered ackee and salt fish. Astrid knew better than telling him it'd be difficult to find that and oh my, look at that wonderful sandwich I got you instead.

Her eyes firmly fixed on the Yellow Pages, she answered.

'Hello?'

'Astrid, this is Olivia. We have just been attacked by four shapeshifters.'

'Oh my, are you alright? Do you need backup?'

'No, we're fine and they are all gone now. They are heavily armed though. But, most importantly, they were carrying some sort of insect-like creature. We think it's the same. Peter had a good look at it...'

'Too close for comfort...' Astrid heard Peter grunting in the background.

'… And he thinks its pincers and tail are poisonous. Walter needs to tell us if that's consistent with the body's wounds. And if it has any relation to the radioactivity.'

'Ahem... Walter is currently unavailable.'

'Astrid, it's quite urgent and quite important. We need to clear that up as soon as possible or we'll have some sort of pandemia on our hands pretty soon.'

'Of course. I understand.'

'We're heading back to headquarters. I'll keep in touch.'

Astrid put down the phone and looked at it.

How can I bring Walter back from la-la land ? I can't. I simply can't.

Astrid started to frantically shuffle through Walter's notes to try to make some sort of sense out of them. The door of the back office opened suddenly and Walter sang gaily : 'The lovely Asterix is going to bring me baaaaack ackeeeee... And maybeeeeeee curryyyyyyy...'

Astrid looked at him and asked sharply:

'Walter, I need answers: can the man's pus be caused by some sort of insect poisoning? And could this poison be radioactive too?'

'… And also callaloo friiiiiiiiiiiitters...'

'Walter! I need those answers!'

'… Aaaaaand a patty too...'

Alright. Time for a low blow.

'Walter, Peter is in danger. If I don't get those answers soon, he might be in... an even greater danger!'

Oh gosh, I hate lying...

Walter stopped singing and grinned.

'Peter is in danger? When isn't he? That's my young dashing son, you know. Always fighting for victory.'

'Walter!'

'Of course, victory could rhyme with patty. So my song could be an hommage to my son. Oh, I like that sentence: my song could be an hommage to...'

'Walter!'

Astrid gave up and started shuffling through the notes again, trying to make some sense out of what she read.

'You might want to turn that sheet, dear. It's upside down.'

She shot a furious look at Walter and put the paper down.

'If you helped me instead, I wouldn't have to try to decypher those notes of yours.'

'You know what? I'm hungry.'

Oh, inspiration!

'I'm sorry Walter. But I can't go to buy you food if you don't answer my questions, because then I'll have to find the answers for myself. It may take a while as I have no understanding of what you wrote down.'

'Oh no... No ackee?'

'Not for a while, no. Sorry.'

And Astrid took an absorbed air while perusing the papers. Walter strolled around her, heaving some heavy sighs and shooting glances at her with puppy eyes. She pretended not to see him.

'Ok. It's not fun. What do you want to know?'

'… So the insect is the cause of both the imbalance in the man's organs and the radioactivity that was found in the water. But because of those self mutating cells I found, I think this creature is also an hermaphrodite and could reproduce itself at quite a fast rate. Can I have ackee now?'

Astrid looked at Walter crest-fallen. It was catastrophic. No. Four heavily armed shape-shifters on the loose were a catastrophe. This, this was a plague of biblical proportion.

She grabbed her phone and called Olivia. While the phone was connecting, she put on her coat, her gloves, her hat, took her bag and made her way towards the door.

'Don't forget the callaloo fritters!' shouted Walter, standing happily in the middle of the lab.

Astrid drove through Roxbury. The streets were full of people, big coloured banners hanging on the lamp posts, over the shops fronts ; small groups of men were gathered despite the cold, smoking and laughing together to the lazy beat of some boombox playing reggae ; women passed by, carrying children who were wrapped in heavy coats, scarves and beanies.

So many people. So much life. I tend to forget it when I'm in the lab all day with only Walter and Gene for company. So many people at risk. I hope Olivia and Peter can catch those shape-shifters before they go on a rampage.

She saw a take-away sign in front of a restaurant. She pulled over and went inside. The air was full of spices and carried the promise of summer.

She went to the counter. A tall guy with long braids was busy preparing a coffee from an italian espresso machine. When he had finished, he turned to her and greeted her with a Jamaican accent. As he was preparing her order, the radio that was blasting a Bob Marley song, the light in the window display and the humming noise of some electric device all suddenly stopped.

'Not again!' exclaimed the man.

'It's one of those power cuts, right?' asked Astrid.

The man looked at her as she were some simpleton, but Astrid knew a stupid question always get answers, sometimes more detailed answers than expected.

'You were not in Boston in the past few days, right? Having them day and night for days now! And of course when that electricity guy comes by with his triangulating thingy or whatever, it doesn't change squat!'

And there you are.

'In my neighbourood, the power cuts only occur at nights. I hadn't even realized until recently.'

'Oh, we're living posh, aren't we? Well, around here, it's been all day long, all night long. Can't keep a house properly heated, can't cook properly either. And two guys I know of got electrocuted!'

'But you said someone from the electricity company came by, didn't you?'

'Yeah, white guy, blue overalls. Waved some sort of counter around and left. Nothing changed.'

'Well, I hope it'll be solved soon. How much do I owe you?'

'Darling, as long as there's no electricity, there's no till. And if there's no till, there's no way you leave with my food.'

'Oh. Ok. Can I have a coffee then, please, while I wait?'

The waiter looked at her bemusedly and gestured at the italian espresso machine.

'Oh, sure. I meant anything. A coco bread then. Thanks!'

Astrid sat down disconsolately.

Somewhere in the city, Olivia, Peter and half the F.B.I. are tracking down shapeshifters. In Harvard, Walter is probably making some amazing discovery relative to radioactive insects. In Roxbury, Astrid Farnsworth is eating coco bread.

She took her phone from her bag. She quickly accessed the internet and checked Google Maps. She was at the heart of Roxbury. The power plant was miles from here. She switched to a map that showed the power routes in Boston and its greater area. No surprise there: Roxbury was like any other neighborood as far as power distribution was concerned.

She checked Google to see if there was any result for Roxbury and electricity. Apart from a few angry petitions asking for a stop to the power cuts and some blog posts about electrocutions, she found nothing.

She sighed. The moment she leaned back in her chair, she heard a fridge coughing like an asthmatic old man and Bob Marley's voice soon filled the restaurant again.

Astrid went back to her car, carrying plastic boxes carefully wrapped.

On the other hand, considering what happened to my shoes this morning, spilling curry on my shirt would now be only a minor event in my wardrobe history.

She carefully put down the boxes on the rear view and stretched before going to the driver's seat. Then she stopped. She stepped back, stretched again. There it was, right behind the building. A radio tower.

Astrid locked the car and walked to the tower.

Question: what is the link between a radio tower and those power cuts? Furthermore, shouldn't you be helping Walter or helping Olivia rather than chasing ghosts? My poor Astrid, you're losing it, you know. Yeah, yeah... I know. On the other hand, there's something about that. I don't know. It's a hunch. That's right, it's a hunch! ... Ugh... I despise hunches. I don't believe in hunches. I believe in research and crossed data. All right, crossing data: there are power cuts. Those power cuts seem to centre around Roxbury up to the point people were electrocuted. But there is no obvious building in Roxbury that'd provide electricity or transfer enough electricity to cause those weird occurences. Except for the radio tower. Which I'm investigating.

Astrid sighed: she hadn't really convinced herself but she felt a bit better. She banged loudly on the metallic door at the foot of the radio tower. No one answered. She waited for a while, then banged some more.

Last try, then I'm leaving. I've been gone a bit too long and Walter may already be breeding radioactive insects in the lab.

Her fist slammed the door, once, twice, three times. And the door opened.

'What do you want ?'

An old man in blue overalls was watching her angrily. He had hardly opened the door, the darkness behind him didn't reveal much.

He repeated: 'What do you want?'

Astrid put on her most charming smile and started talking as fast as she could.

'Hello! You must be Mr Pembroke who's in charge of the radio tower. I'm Astrid. I know Tricia told you she'd come herself but she's extremely busy this afternoon so she sent me for the interview. I hope you don't mind but I promise you I'm very competent.'

The old man had tried to interrupt her twice but Astrid wouldn't let him. When she stopped for breath, he looked dumbfounded, his mouth slightly ajar.

Eventually, he asked: 'What interview?'

'What?', said Astrid 'You mean Tricia hasn't told you?'

'Er... No... Who's Tricia?'

'Tricia Jackson of course. Our editor-in-chief.'

The old man was still staring at her blankly, so Astrid plodded on.

'Tricia Jackson at WKPBS. We are doing a feature on radio communications within the Boston area.'

'I know of no interview' grumbled the old man. He was going to shut the door.

Astrid pulled what she called her puppy face: sad eyes, dropping mouth and shoulders, head slightly down.

'Oh no. That is terrible. Tricia will kill me if I don't come back with your interview and some nice shots of the radio tower. She is just hoping for an excuse to sack me...'

She waited. She didn't have to wait for long. After some more grumbling, he let her in.

The day that won't work anymore, I'll know for sure I've lost all of my sex-appeal.

And chuckling to herself, she went inside. The door suddenly clanged behind her and she had the fleeting impression she had just walked into the mouth of the monster.

'So, how long have you been working here Mr Pembroke?' asked Astrid as she stepped on heavy cables. He was leading the way through a dark corridor filled with electric junk. Astrid felt it looked a bit like the lab, a lab gone musty, wild and invaded by shadows.

'About thirty years' he replied without turning.

Gotcha! I don't know who you are old man, but you obviously want to be someone else.

'And has the job changed since then?'

The old man paused. He stopped and faced her.

'How long is this game supposed to be going on?'

'I'm sorry, Mr Pembroke. I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'If you really were working for a radio station, where's your gear?'

'In my car, of course!'

'Why are you here?'

Astrid suddenly felt at a loss for words. That's when her phone started ringing shrilly. She hastily took it out of her bag: it was Walter.

The old man made a gesture as if to grab her by the arm, but she quickly evaded him and retreated to the door. It wasn't locked: in a matter of seconds, she was outside, under the blinding sun and in the biting cold, her phone still ringing in her hand. The old man hadn't followed her.

Astrid paced briskly to the car and answered the phone.

'Will you be back soon?'

'Yes, I'm already on my way.'

'Good, that's good...'

'Why, Walter?' asked Astrid suspiciously. The tone of his voice was that of a repentant child.

'Erm... No reason. Not really. See you.'

The communication cut abruptly.

Come on! What has he done again?

The answer felt quite obvious as Astrid walked into the lab. An immense gelatinous pink puddle was spread on the floor, Walter perched on one of the desks, like a shipwreck victim on a raft.

'Don't walk on it! Don't walk on it!' he souted as soon as she moved towards him.

'Walter! What's that?'

'In a nutshell, it's a fantastic discovery. I've managed to solidify the radioactive components of the water sample. But I got a bit, let's say, over enthusiastic.'

'What happened?'

'I wanted to check how it would react if I added other radioactive components, like Cesium 137, you know, that kind of things...'

'Cesiu... but Walter! How could you find Cesium 137? You need uranium and fission to get Cesium 137! You need a federal authorization!'

'Oh, it's easy you know. There's this charming young man in one of the physics lab, two floors above us who...'

'I don't want to know actually! Walter, we need to evacuate. If that stuff is some soup of Cesium 137 and other radioactive components... Goodness, we actually need to evacuate the whole area !'

'No, no, no! There's no need to! That's the wonder: the pink goo captures radioactivity. Of course, If it weren't for those holes in reality and the laws of physics, it wouldn't be able to do that. But it does. Isn't it marvellous?'

'Then if it's not radioactive, may I know what you're doing standing on that desk?'

'Well, radioactivity levels are fine. Acid levels, not so much. The goo ate the sole of my shoes.'

While Walter ate, FBI agents called in by Astrid were disposing of the goo in closed containers. They moved around wearing security suits and worked silently and effortlessly.

'Walter?'

'Yes dear?'

'If the laws of physics are broken, does it mean that any kind of amateur scientist could make discoveries? Could actually research or exploit things that were unimaginable so far?'

'Absolutely. I wouldn't go as far as saying that anything is possible, but we've definitely moved away from fringe science. We are currently entering the realm of science-fiction.'

The power cuts had started two weeks ago. Time enough for someone to 'discover' a new property to electricity and start a city scale test. But why?

All of a sudden, it made no sense. Pursuing immortality or trying to beat it, trying to go back in time, all those were things Astrid could understand. But electricity? It was only a tool, something you take for granted...

That is until there's no croissant, no till, no coffee, no heater...

What would the purpose be? Small scale purpose. Someone who had no idea why or how this was happening. Or someone maybe who had an agenda beyond that.

Her phone rang, disturbing her thoughts. She picked up. The first thing she heard was background noises: shouts and explosions, bullets being fired. Olivia's voice suddenly shouted:

'Astrid! Are you there?'

'Yes. What's the matter?'

'Hell or something close to it.'

Astrid heard a sudden blast.

'Olivia?'

'I'm still there.' Her voice was shaking. 'Don't worry. How is Walter doing with the radioactivity?'

'He found a way to solidify the radioactive components.'

'Could it disable the insect in a way or another?'

Astrid asked the question to Walter who answered excitedly, blabbering about radioactivity and stings.

'It seems so' said Astrid to Olivia.

'We need him then. Right now!'

'All right. I'm sending him to you right away.'

Astrid wrote down their location and said to Walter: 'Field trip, Walter! They need your help. Take whatever you need: you'll have to prevent the insect from doing any harm.'

Walter's eyes shined. He quickly gathered a few instruments and some jars in a bag.

'How shall I go there?'

Astrid turned to one of the suited agents that was still there: 'Fred, take Walter to this address. It's urgent: agents in a situation.'

While Fred was taking his suit off, Astrid went to the back office and rummaged a bit in a cupboard. She came back and gave Walter a bullet proof vest.

'Put it on Walter. It seems that they are in a tight spot. We don't want anything to happen to you.'

'Thanks my dear.'

Walter and Fred left quickly, without another word.

Astrid looked at the closing door, then at the lab now deserted. Gene mooed mournfully.

'Yes, just you and I, Gene.'

She sighed. She knew going with them would serve no purpose: there probably were more than enough agents to help and Walter could take care of himself, she'd probably be a dead weight. Nevertheless she felt a pang of regret.

Once more unto the breach. Or not.

On an impulse, she grabbed her phone, her coat, her bag and left.

I may not help them. But I may help.

She drove back to Roxbury, drove back to the radio tower. She parked the car and stood outside, contemplating the tower. At its foot, the metallic door creaked open.

'So you're back? Want to come in?' asked the old man, a twisted smile on his face.

Astrid didn't reply, but without hesitating, she stepped inside.

They walked silently for a while in the dark corridor.

'How shall I call you then?' asked Astrid.

The old man chuckled.

'Mr Pembroke is fine. And how shall I call you?'

'Astrid.'

'Why are you here Astrid?'

'Because I think you can help me.'

They reached a stuffy room: electronic devices were on every available space. Tables, chairs, floor. Some were high enough to tower above Astrid. Their lights were blinking, casting intermittent shadows in every corner.

'What's all this?'

'Probably the reason you're here.'

Astrid looked straight in the man's eyes.

'I'm here to investigate the power cuts. I'm an FBI agent and I have reasons to believe that what's happening in here is directly linked to some of our others investigations.'

'What kind of investigations?'

Astrid thought about her answer carefully. The old man in front of her seemed tense, not because he feared her, not because he seemed poised to leap and hurt her, but rather because he seemed to be expecting answers too, answers to something that was weighing on him.

'For reasons I won't explain, new fields of research and experimentation in physics have opened. When unsupervised by us, it can lead to harm. Even if it seems quite inoffensive.'

The old man's shoulders dropped and he fell down on a chair. Astrid quickly went to him, fearing he had an attack. But he looked at her and murmured: 'Thank God. Thank God. I'm not crazy.'

Astrid kneeled next to him.

'What's going on here?'

'It's Henry. It all started with Henry. You know, he wasn't looking to do anything bad.'

'Who's Henry?'

'An old friend of mine. We're both retired teachers, taught physics at Roxbury High for years. When we retired, we kept on being busy, taking care of the radio tower, volunteer work. But it wasn't easy. Kids kept on vandalizing the tower: tags on the walls and stuff. Then people started cannibalizing the tower: a cable here and there, parts to build antennas. We did what we could, alerted the City Hall, the police. But they did nothing. Henry, he got angry.'

Astrid could picture it: poor folk taking whatever they needed, not caring about two old men who ranted about it, the police would be busy with drug traffic and gangs, the City Hall wouldn't want to make it look as if the rougher parts of Roxbury were out of control. And an old man, frustrated, angry. With enough knowledge in physics to look for his own solution.

'Is it when he realized there was something strange with the electricity?'

The old man looked away.

'It was an accident. And it was me who found out. We realized that some frequencies had strange properties. Let me show you.'

He stood up and walked to a big black cable: it was plugged to the wall at one end, the other end rose in the air to the top of the tower.

'What do you know about hertzian frequencies?'

'Next to nothing.'

'So let me put it simply: connected to some sort of transistor, some frequencies started to create an amplified voltage. It went further: we realized we could, in a sense, domesticate this current. We could let it flow through our bodies without harm and then expell it.'

'Is it why there are power cuts?'

'Yes, the current is somehow unstable. If we release it to the electric grid, it kind of stops the current, effectively cutting the power in some devices, or even to whole areas.'

'Which explains why a switched on device may still not be working properly after one of those power cuts.'

'Exactly. And it seems we can't get rid of this sluggish current. That's how we call it: sluggish current. It's in the power grid now and it flows randomly.'

'But why didn't you tell anyone? At least, you could have come forward with your discovery.'

The old man went back to the chair and sat down. Astrid followed him.

'It was fun at first. An amazing discovery. But Henry was too interested in what he could do when we absorb the sluggish current. He realised the voltage was higher when expelled. And... and suddenly, it all seemed too weird, too strange...'

An old man with blue electric arcs coming out of his hands? Come on! That's just bad science fiction. But it's what Walter said: it's not fringe science anymore, we've entered the realm of science fiction.

Hesitantly, Astrid asked: 'Did Henry used it to harm people?'

The old man looked up, his eyes suddenly full of tears.

'He shouldn't have. I told him it wasn't right. But he said... He said we could get rid of all those sleazy people, those who stand around doing nothing all day long and who stole stuff, those who sell drugs, those who just wait for the government's help and help themselves in the meantime, lazy parasites. That's what he said.'

Astrid could imagine it. Two old white men in a neighborood like Roxbury, full of frustration and anger. She was glad the old man had used the word 'parasite'. Somehow, she didn't think that was the exact word Henry used.

She took his hand.

'Where's Henry now?'

'I'm so fed up with this, you know. That's not what I had in mind when I retired. I just wanted to help people and have a bit of fun. I thought I was going crazy: this electric current, it's not natural, it's not rational. What Henry could do!'

'I know. But where is he?'

Astrid walked out of the radio tower a few minutes later. The sun was setting down and the snow that had looked so beautiful in the morning was now nothing more than a brownish mush.

She gave a phone call to Broyles, then headed back to the lab to type her report.

Somewhere in town, Olivia, Peter and Walter were fighting shapeshifters and radioactive insects. She was only picking up the pieces of that great shattered glass that reality was now. But she also knew that someone had to before the shards cut to the bone.

A fleeting smile lit her face. She'd be home in time for their anniversary dinner. Mark and her would talk of The Marquises Islands where they'd probably never go.

Broyles had said to her on the phone that it was a job well done. She felt glad he had said that, that he recognized her work.

But it was just another day in my life. And, actually... I wouldn't want any other kind.