THE CARDBOARD box Peter was holding in his arms promptly fell on the floor with a loud clang sound, since he completely forgot about it, having heard Olivia's question directed to his father.
Shit. Did she just ask him that? If he remembers his Inviso-man project… I'm a goner.
Olivia might trace it right back to me.
Unless…
I visit her apartment again as the Invisible Guy soon and give her a different explanation.
Olivia and Walter turned around sharply, startled with the noise, Gene mooed mournfully and Astrid stopped clearing out the file cabinet.
-Peter, no!-Walter exclaimed, speedily running over to his side.
-Sorry about that. My palms are all sweaty-Peter muttered.
-Now you've probably broken everything!
-Okay, Walter, stop bitching around. I said I was sorry. Hang on a second, will you? I'll open it now and we'll see what's inside. There was no sound of glass shattering or anything. So i guess nothing is broken.
-Reckless, that's what you are!
-Are you gonna let me open it or not?
Father and son faced each other with identical furious expressions on their faces.
Astrid and Olivia exchanged uncomfortable glances and instinctively intervened, each one calming down "her" respective Bishop.
-Walter, it's okay. Take it easy.-Astrid placed a hand on mad scientist's shoulder. –Maybe nothing's broken, really. Peter didn't mean to do it, right, Peter?-she stared at him expectantly, rolling her eyes at him in order to show Peter he should play along.
But it wasn't until Olivia came to his side that Peter actually simmered down himself.
-Peter-she whispered in his ear and his frown was somewhat gone at that single word uttered from her.
Dang. The instant calming effect. Olivia-sedative. A man can't even properly get angry anymore with her around, I swear.
–Try to understand him. He's your father. He must really care about whatever might be in that box.
-Some father he is-Peter retorted. –Walter's present and past parental abilities aside: Olivia, just let me ask you a question: do you really think he even knows what's in the box? Five months ago, Walter wasn't aware what his last name was. He even had no idea who you were back when he convinced you to get high and dive into a sensory deprivation tank.
Olivia actually looked taken aback for a moment and she shook her head slightly.
Didn't know that, doll? Well there's a newsflash for ya.
-Well of course I know what's in the box, you blind idiot. My photo albums. And some of the photographs might have even been enframed.
-They haven't, seeing how the glass shattering sound wasn't heard. I've already told you that. Now for the last time: move away and let me open the god-damned box.
Walter finally budged and stepped aside grudgingly.
Peter pulled out his faithful pocket knife and sliced the box open, immediately starting to cough because of all the dust that happily sprouted upwards, freed from its cardboard incarceration.
Olivia and Astrid waved their hands in front of their faces, but Walter knelt next to Peter and started rummaging around.
-See? Nothing's broken.
-Next time, be more careful.
-I sincerely hope there won't be a next time. One spring cleaning in seventeen years is quite enough for me. We'll clean the lab again when I'm 47-Peter grinned smugly when he heard Olivia chuckle behind him.
It's nice to know I still got it. Peter Bishop: making the chicks laugh since... Well… Since 1996, for instance. Mission complete.
Walter didn't reply anything to that and Peter paid attention to his father out of sheer curiosity.
-Okay, Walter, what exactly are you doing right now?
-Oh, it's still here! This one is my favorite!-Walter exclaimed childishly, pulling out a huge black photo album. -The wedding, the lake house…
Peter froze on the spot.
-Walter…-he couldn't recognize his own shaky, wary voice. –You've had your fun. Why don't you put those back now so I can find a place for them?
-Nonsense, Peter, I haven't seen these in seventeen years! I so much… So much wish to look upon them again-Walter trembled with a hungry expression on his face.
-Oh my God, a family photo album!-Astrid and Olivia exclaimed in unison. –How cute!-they cooed.
-Walter, I'd love to see how you looked like on your wedding day!-Astrid said.
-Are there some pictures of baby Peter, too?-Olivia inquired with a sweet smile. –I'd love to see how you looked like when you were a toddler-she said, but the ugly expression on Peter's face stopped her from saying anything else.
Olivia could see that he was extremely upset.
-No… Not that many, actually-Walter replied with a deep sadness in his voice. –Oh. I found the wedding photo. Look, Afro.
-Is that… Purple?-Astrid laughed out loud. –Oh my God, Walter!
-What? Why? It's the most stylish color possible for the wedding tuxedo! I even kept it, I know it's around here somewhere…-his shuddering forefinger then wiped the dust off the happy face of a woman who was standing by his side and for several moments not a sound could be heard in a lab apart from Walter's sigh and Peter's somewhat ragged breathing.
-Is this your Mom?-Olivia inquired tenderly, turning towards Peter, who was blankly, angrily staring into space, decisively refusing to look down. –She is really pretty.
Peter was clenching his fists, trying his best not to react.
That's private… How dare he… That's… Private.
-Yes, agent Dunham. She was so beautiful… So beautiful in white-Walter muttered and that was what did it for Peter.
-You have no right to talk about her! To… To say her name. To touch those photographs she's on. You never were the part of our family!-Peter screamed at him, grabbed the album Walter was holding and rushed towards the back room.
-I upset him, didn't I?-Walter said, barely audibly.
He closed the box wordlessly and took it away to a remote corner without looking at other photos.
Astrid and Olivia were at loss for words so they simply decided not to comment on what had just transpired. Astrid sighed and went back to sorting out the file cabinet.
She's obviously used to such scenes, Olivia thought.
Walter returned to stand by Olivia.
-Agent Dunham. You asked me how can a person become invisible, yes?-his voice was civil with a hint of sadness.
-Walter…. If this is not a good time for you…
-I shall answer your question-he continued, pretending he hadn't heard her and Olivia went along with it. –There are two ways, so to speak. One: you can be born with invisibility potential and two: you could, hypothetically, inject yourself with an invisibility serum. Which does not exist yet, so… It is all science fiction still, as Peter would say.
-Why name it, then?
-Well, in theory, it could be made but no one has ever managed to make it correctly.
-Okay-she nodded vigorously, accepting his explanation and discarding that possibility. –What about the other option you mentioned to me me… To be… Born with invisibility predisposition? How is that even possible?
-Maybe I haven't expressed myself clearly enough… You see, agent Dunham, certain… Genetic disorders or… Special chromosome aberrations or anomalies… The unique cellular quality of the infant's genetics might make him or her pliable to accommodate chromatophore implantation... Thus giving the child the ability to blend into its' surroundings.
Olivia swallowed hard.
-This means that… The chromatophore implantation you are mentioning… Would have to be introduced by a team of scientists? That is… The child would have to be experimented on in order to… Enhance the predisposition?
-Yes. That is correct-Walter nodded sadly.
-Thank you… Walter. You've been very helpful.
Olivia went towards the back room next.
Vigilant, wary and puzzled scientist's eyes watched her go.
PETER slammed the back room door, throwing the album as far away from him as he could. He sat on the chair, breathing heavily.
Salty moist was gathering in the corner of his eyes and he squeezed his temples as hard as he could to stop it from shedding outside.
Couple of minutes later, the door slowly opened and Peter pricked his ears after having heard Olivia's soft steps approach him.
-Olivia… I don't wanna sound rude but… Leave me alone-he managed to utter gritting his teeth.
-Peter. I don't wanna sound rude either… But I've got a room to clean. So you're the one who has to leave-she said gently, with a hint of amusement in her voice.
He raised his gaze in wonder, staring at Olivia's figure standing mere inches from him, holding a mop bucket with wringer.
A smile momentarily appeared on Peter's lips against his will, but it was quickly replaced with a scowl.
-Did you all have a good time with my family photo albums?
-Actually, yes. Walter showed me a really cute photo of a two year old you having a bath.
Peter's eyes widened in shame and horror as he took in the true meaning of what Olivia had just said.
-With a rubber duckie?-he muttered bitterly, lowering his eyes onto the floor.
-You had a rubber duckie when you were two years old?-Olivia smiled.
-Yeah… And now you know my darkest secret. As far as I can recall, I had it until I was seven or so. This is why it probably shows up as a faithful companion on all of my "having a bath nude" photos.
-Peter-the decisive tone of her voice made him look up once more. –I didn't see any of your "having a bath nude" photos. Walter took all the family albums away as soon as he noticed how much he had upset you.
Peter smirked, mildly irritated, but much more amused.
And she played me for a fool. She really is a quick learner.
-So, that was what? You were bluffing?
-It wouldn't be my first time-Olivia raised an eyebrow, teasing him.
-No-he chuckled, recalling the day they'd met. –No, it wouldn't. You know, Dunham… You should write a book on a "How to con a con-man". It would be a bestseller. Man here thinks you're an angel… But you're full of surprises.
She blushed to his praise.
-So are you.
-Oh? What's so surprising about me? I'm an ordinary guy. I keep myself to myself most of the times.
-Well you sometimes come across as calm and composed and other times…-she bit her lip wondering if she should have gone there in the first place.
-Look. Sorry about that. You shouldn't have witnessed that scene. It's Walter. He's just so damn annoying.
Olivia wondered why Peter hated the fact that his father was looking at the photos of him and his mother but decided not to intrude any further.
-He tries so hard, Peter. Have you noticed that?
-I have. That makes him even more irritating, as a matter of fact.
-He's your father-Olivia stated the obvious, her eyes glimmering like two bright yellow suns in the daylight and Peter held her gaze for a while longer just to be able to watch that transformation.
-A simple misfortune that, lamentably, can't be corrected-he yawned carelessly. –He's more like my son at the moment anyway.
-Peter. He loves you very much. And I think that somewhere deep down inside you care about him as well. You're just embittered because of everything that…
-Because of what? What, Olivia? Listen. Relationship between me and my father concerns him and me only. Don't pretend like you know what's happening around here. What had been happening…-he swallowed.
She nodded courtly.
-You're right. Of course. It's none of my business.
-Look…. Olivia-Peter explored her face, feeling uncomfortable, angry with himself for having snapped at the very person who least deserved it.
She always had that weird way to make me feel guilty. –Can we just not talk about this?
-Sure-she smiled a hesitant smile. –How about I start with the spring cleaning for real, then?
Shit. The serum dosages. And the "Matter of energy" book. They are right here in this room. Olivia can't see them. If she found them, she wouldn't know what they are but still… She might ask Walter, and we don't want that to happen, do we?
-If you are really that hell-bent to help, you can clean the windows. Why don't you let me take care of the back room? It's too crowded with the lab equipment and other stuff you probably wouldn't even recognize-he took the mop from Olivia's hands.
-Okay-Olivia didn't insist any further and when the back room door were finally closed and Peter was left alone, he exhaled noisily, rummaged through the box with the book remaining serum dosages, wrapped them up in a plastic bag and hid them inside his leather jacket.
Gotta find a safer place for these later.
The family photo album, carelessly thrown in the corner, attracted his gaze again.
He stood up, took it in his hands, winced after having turned several pages and after couple of seconds of staring, Peter pocketed a photo of a beautiful dark haired woman and a beaming blond haired nine year old, holding a ball under his armpit in the park.
JUST as Olivia was leaving the back room, her cell phone rang and she promptly answered it.
-Dunham.
-This is Broyles. I need you and the Bishops in the FBI offices. We have a new case on our hands. There's been a… Strange kidnapping.
HALF an hour later, the three of them were already standing in Broyles's office, as he was briefing them about the abduction.
Peter and Walter were listening, but not too carefully, seeing how they were busy eating and drinking; their hands were filled with hot coffee and donuts.
Still, they did nod their heads vigorously whenever Broyles would look in their direction.
Olivia had noticed that and even though initially thinking of scolding them, she barely suppressed a smile, thinking how similar father and son looked at that very moment.
Seeing how both Walter and Peter had gotten up early and had started cleaning the lab, neither of them had time to have proper breakfast before coming to the FBI headquarters; that was why they had to buy some donuts on their way there.
Walter bought one for Olivia too, and she rolled her eyes, heading towards the nearest paper basket; however, she promptly changed her mind and gave it to Peter instead, recalling his complaint about wasting food.
She was rewarded with a genuine and surprised smile as Peter wolfed down the donut in one bite.
Olivia wanted to get on good terms with him again.
First I give him cold shoulder after dinner last night.
Then, I cross the line in the lab this morning and comment on something that I shouldn't have commented on in the first place.
I care about Peter and I… I simply don't want to fight with him.
Between the new case and the recent mini quarrel she had with Peter, which had occupied her completely, somehow, Olivia managed to banish the thoughts of the midnight visit from her mind.
-Seeing how we are talking about the abduction, I believe I do not need to emphasize how important it is that we find the child in no more than 48 hours.
-A child?-Olivia whispered, horrified, and Peter recalled the tender, playful voice she had used when she talked to her niece three days ago, just before she travelled to Frankfurt.
-Yes-her boss nodded gravely. -The boy's name is Ben Stockton-Broyles's voice resounded through the office. -According to his mother, they were driving home from a school function last night when she saw a well-dressed young woman having car trouble. The mother claims that, while she was looking at woman's car, something strange happened. Her son, the car and a woman were gone.
-Maybe she fainted-Peter jumped in, becoming interested in the story. Walter didn't speak up.
-She insisted she never lost consciousness-Broyles said firmly. –And… This is not the first time that this has happened. We have files from three missing person cases dating back ten years. If you carefully read each one, you will see that witnesses describe having seen the exact same woman. Based on the freshest description that Ben's mother gave us, Agent Francis has managed to ID the kidnapper. Her name was Joanne Trotter.
-Was? She got married or something so she changed it?-Peter smirked.
-No, Bishop, she died.
-Meh. Pretty much the same in my book.
Olivia looked at Peter incredulously, but then she turned to Broyles.
-She died?
-She was a molecular biologist studying at M.I.T. She would have been thirty this April. According to DMV department of records, she died 10 years ago. We are certain that we are talking about the same woman.
-So what happened to her?
-Apparently, her car went off the bridge couple of months before the abductions started. The car was recovered, but her body was never found.
-So she didn't die after all. You see? And there you were looking so appalled when I first made the comment-Peter grinned at Olivia but she simply shook her head at him.
-This is not good. We actually know who the abductee is, but… We have no idea where she might be, or… How to find her. And that boy's life may be in danger. Was there anything else that the boy's mother remembered at the moment of his disappearance? We need… More. And what happened to the other victims?
-They were let go.
-What?-Peter sniggered incredulously. –Who in their right mind would let the victims walk alive and unharmed after having abducted them?
-I didn't say they were unharmed. Whatever had been done to them… Drove them insane. They were trying to hurt themselves or they would turn against their loved ones. Lamentably, all of them were incapable of recalling what happened during the abduction.
Olivia stared at the victims' profiles, thinking hard.
Peter stood up and came behind her to see what she was reading. He caught the whiff of the scent of her skin and a sweet shudder passed down his spine.
Even at these serious moments… I think about touching you, Olivia.
Peter quietly sighed, wondering what the hell was going on with him. Olivia was becoming like a drug for him, and he would turn nervous or angry if he weren't able to see her for some time.
Yeah… Remember Frankfurt?
Now, honestly, I don't recall having been obsessed with a girl's body that much. Perhaps there is some truth in what Walter normally rattles on about… Pheromones… And unique body scent that every girl emits… Perhaps she simply emits my kind of smell.
He cleared his throat, remembering where they were and what were they doing.
Peter also reminded himself that he should keep bodily distance from Olivia, and that he should definitely avoid touching her.
We don't want her to recognize me, do we now?
-What does it say?-he inquired.
-I don't get it, Peter… I was looking for a common denominator for all these abductions. I thought I found one. All of these people were academics, physicists, probability theorists, structural engineers… But Ben… he doesn't fit the profile. How old is Ben?
-Ten-Broyles replied shortly.
-Oh, Ben Ten!-Walter exclaimed joyfully. –Asteroid showed me this children's action show on television the other day. It starts right after Sponge Bob. It's quite good.
-Look, Walter. There is a boy who might die. Focus already. Enough with the cartoons. So you're saying… What? The same person who had been abducting Wile E. Coyote Super Geniuses has suddenly abducted a mere ten year old kid?-Peter was surprised.
-That's the thing. Ben wasn't just a mere ten year old kid. His mother told us he was special.
-Special? In what way?-Olivia asked.
-He was a little Einstein?-Peter inquired.
-Yes. But he became… "A Little Einstein", like you say, under unusual circumstances. His family had a car accident. His father died immediately from a severe head wound. The mother and a child survived. At first… Doctors told the boy's mother they didn't know if the boy was gonna make it either. He was in a coma for six days… And when he woke up… According to the video the mother had already shown to agent Francis… He became an incredibly talented mathematician. He stopped speaking much since he found out his father died. The activity he would enjoy most was… Solving mathematical problems, puzzles and conundrums. Ben was also able to come up with many different ways to solve one single mathematical problem.
-Oh my God-Olivia clasped her mouth. –His father died? That is so sad, especially for such a young child…
She recalled her own father dying, her mother remarrying and the terror she and her sister lived through under the reign of their deranged stepfather.
-But… He wasn't good at mathematics before?-Olivia focused on the case again.
Her face was now utterly puzzled and Peter caught her licking her lips.
She tends to do that when she's confused.
-No-Broyles confirmed. –Moreover, Ben's mother said to Agent Francis that soon after, the boy had become obsessed with one equation in particular, the only one he couldn't solve. Stopped being interested in everything else.
-Does Ben's mum happen to have a… Copy of the equation somewhere at their place?
-We haven't asked her yet but it certainly is a good idea to try and obtain it so you can all have a look at it-Broyles nodded.
Walter spoke for the first time.
-It is common knowledge that people with severe brain traumas used to wake up with the ability to do things they hadn't been able to do before.
-So he does fit the profile-Peter said, giving an overall finishing conclusion. –Apparently… We… Know a lot. We know he shares common characteristics with other abductees. We know who the mysterious kidnapper is. We have no idea where Joanne Trotter is, though. And… We don't know how was it that she managed to take away all those people.
-Actually… We know that as well-Broyles added. –And it is precisely that knowledge which determined that this kidnapping was going to be treated as a Fringe division case, and not as an ordinary abduction. After interacting with the woman from the sketch, all the victims would experience an interval of lost time. Peculiar flashing lights.
-Green green green red-those words came out of Walter's mouth before he could stop himself.
-What did you just say?-Broyles inquired, extremely surprised.
-Don't mind him. He didn't take his medication this morning. Walter, why don't you stick to what you do best instead of shouting out random words and scaring people, huh? You're a lab rat, that's all.-Peter tried to prevent Walter from talking any further. –I think he said it because he always gets confused by the flashing of the traffic lights when he crosses the street. I'm still learning about all my father's peculiarities, but I have noticed he can be quite obsessive when a random idea enters his mind. A week ago all he would talk about were fruit cocktails.
-Your father is actually right. That was exactly what all the victims described, including the mother of our last victim, Ben Stockton.
-Walter-Olivia swallowed. –Do you… Do you happen to remember where did you hear about those lights? It could be very important.
-I… I don't. I'm sorry- Walter looked truly miserable while Peter squeezed his fists.
It figures.
My father, ladies and gentlemen.
It turns out he is the one who can crack the case. But then… Guess what?
He can't.
What a surprise.
Not really.
Peter sighed.
-Peter-Olivia leaned over and whispered into his ear. –Do you… Happen to know of the way in which we could jog Walter's memory?
Peter perversely enjoyed the ticklish feeling of her breath for several seconds before he replied.
-You know better than anyone else that Walter is like a child. You've seen him at work myriads of times. Basically anything could make him remember. A certain smell, sound… One word that he somehow magically associates with another… That's just the way in which this man's addled brain works. But one thing's certain. He feels best when he's in the lab. That's kinda his territory.
-So you suggest… What?
-We head back there and we try to figure out all this gibberish stuff about the green green green red lights. You can continue the search for Joanne Trotter-Peter suggested.
-Very well, team. I'll leave you to it-Broyles said, exiting the office.
Good old Broyles-Peter thought.
Brief and run.
That's his motto.
Leave it to us to bust our humps.
WHEN father and son got to the lab, Astrid was nowhere to be found. It was almost noon, so Peter simply thought she probably went to get some lunch.
Wish she'd bring us some food as well.
Those three donuts I ate simply didn't cover for everything a young, growing scientist may need.
-Walter. I hope I don't need to emphasize how important it is that you remember where you heard of those lights. The kid's life is at stake. I'm just hoping you didn't use similar lights to hypnotize someone or something like that, and make them experience the interval of lost time-Peter yawned, lifting his feet on the table. –Maybe you're the one who's sleepwalking and kidnapping those people without even realizing it. Remember how you couldn't recall that you actually had experimented on that poor oafish fellow Roy Mc Comb….
-That's it, Peter!-Walter lunged at him spreading his arms into a hug but Peter jumped up from the chair and stepped away, mildly horrified.
-Walter… Remember what we talked about respecting personal space.
-You're right, son, I am sorry. But I just wanted to congratulate you on a job well done, boy, A +! What you've just said was on subject! Your mentioning of hypnosis gave me an idea, a theory as to how the boy was taken. A technology of intricate pattern of flashing lights can actually be used to induce a hypnagogic state. If you firstly focus on the timing and intensity of the flashes… And then include the colors… Theoretically, persons exposed to such flashes will do whatever they're commanded to.
-What if they were daltonists, if they suffered from color blindness?-Peter smirked, amused.
-Oh. Well… Then, I supposed it wouldn't have worked. They wouldn't be able to see green and red lights, just grey. Exactly like dogs and horses.
-So the colors are important as well in this case?
-Yes. I am going to reconstruct the flashing device now and then I could use your help.
-You mean… You could use a test subject. A guinea pig. An expendable gerbil. Me.
-Now, Peter, you must know that I wouldn't allow any harm to befall you.
-We don't know each other so well for you to tell me something like that and for me to believe in what you say-Peter said quietly, solemnly, thus stinging his father with his words. –But… Seeing how there's no one else around here and the time is ticking out… I guess I'll have to accept. No one guarantees it'll work anyway. How long do you think it'll take you?
-To reconstruct the device… Maybe half an hour. But then comes the hardest part. I have to figure out how to adjust it, in order to be able to change the timing and the intensity of the flashes.
-Okay. I'll be right here… Dozing off-Peter slumped back into a chair and closed his eyes. –You call me when you're done and ready to use me for the experiment. I am so tired-Peter yawned, stretching.
-When did you get back home last night?
Peter tensed.
-Around one a.m. Why?
-No reason. I am just curious. I didn't hear the sound of our bedroom door opening and I normally sleep very light. You have been spending a lot of time outside the hotel during the last couple of evenings, son.
-Sorry? Aren't I allowed to go out? Or I have to babysit you 24/7?
-Of course you are-Walter said rapidly.
-Walter. Our living arrangements are temporary. At least that's what Broyles told me and that's what I keep repeating to myself. Now, we maybe are sharing a living space but that doesn't give you right to follow my every step and to snoop around.
-Are you seeing someone?-Walter leaned forward with a smug grin.
-I am so not answering to that question.
Walter smiled knowingly.
-Agent Dunham had sex last night.
-Oh, come on. Walter, just stop! We're not really going there, are we?
Walter's facial expression remained alert and unaltered.
-Okay. We're going there-Peter took a deep sigh. –Let's suppose for a moment that what you're saying is true. So what if she did? That's her private life you're talking about.
-Did she have sex with you?
Peter started coughing so hard Walter had to come over and slap him on the back several times.
-With me?-he feigned incredulity. –With me of all people?
-Why not, son? You see each other every day in the lab… You are both two attractive youngsters and you both have sexual needs you should regularly fulfill…
The funny thing is, that's what I've been saying to myself as well-Peter thought. Back when I was certain I might convince Dunham to become my friend with benefits.
-I've noticed the way you look at agent Dunham-Walter smirked.
-I'm a guy. Guys look at chicks all the time. It's scientifically proven. We ogle them and stare at them in a paralyzed state every now and then. I published a paper on that.
-With your falsified degree?-Walter sounded sad.
-Yes, with my falsified degree-Peter heaved a sigh. –Do you wanna hear what it was about?
It would be like 17 years late father and son school project-he said dryly, sardonically.
-Oh, yes, I'd love to!-Walter was happy Peter chose to share anything at all with him.
-Well there's the hourglass figure we all know and love… Then boobs… A woman's breast is one of the most obvious physical features that emphasize a woman's body, and they indicate to men, at least on a sub-conscious level, that a woman is fertile and past puberty. The fact that her body can afford to waste enough energy on developing and carrying around nicely shaped, but otherwise unnecessary lumps of fat obviously means she's ready to get attention from men and may also be available for sex. Next on: hips and butt…With evolution came bigger backsides and wider hips. A wide hip suggests an easier childbirth, and hips too, widen only after puberty. Perhaps this is another thing that ensured that a male would be able to recognize a female that has come of age. Men have always found a wide hip attractive, and the excess fat that is seen on the butt of women have found a special place in a man's eyes, especially if he's looking out for a potential mate and someone to carry on his lineage and produce good offspring. Since men can't actually see any specific region that emphasizes the readiness of a woman to mate, this outward spreading of a female's backside is the only sign, other than the breasts, to show that a woman is ready to mate. And excess fat on a body also shows a man that she can take good care of herself and forage for food which mattered a lot back in the early days, when survival of the young ones was so crucial. So there you have it. We're basically animals. But… Coming back to your question about Olivia… Looking isn't dipping. Whoever is doing the in and out with Olivia, it ain't me. And I've already told you. Me going out at night means: me catching up with high school buddies. Now… Enough of that talk. Listen, Walter. You need to focus and reconstruct the device.
-Okay! I hope there is a girl among those "high school buddies" of yours-Walter's face was beaming.
-Maybe there is-Peter replied cryptically.
If I appease him, he'll hopefully start working and stop relating me to Olivia. The last thing I need now is for Walter to be onto me.
HALF an hour later, Walter woke Peter up and Peter rubbed his eyes, slowly getting up from the chair.
-Is it done?
-All done, son. Now come. Let me demonstrate. Come.
-What do you want me to do?
-Just stare at the lights.
-The more I'm looking at this thingamajig… The more I'm starting to think that this isn't gonna work at all but… Whatever-Peter focused on the flashing light device.
Peter wasn't certain how much time had passed but when he opened his eyes again he was firmly holding Walter in his embrace and he could see Astrid standing right next to them with a sweet, moved smile on her face.
He rapidly, angrily pushed his father away, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably and stepping away from him.
-Did you do this to me?
-I merely suggested you to do it. And you did. You listened to me. You also called me Dad when I asked you to-Walter was now smiling happily.
I hope he isn't gonna start talking about that bullshit how you can't order a person to do under hypnosis what he or she wouldn't be willing to do in their conscious state of mind.
-Nice going, Walter. Manipulating my mind in order to get some affection from me. That's pathetic.
-It's not that, Peter, it's just… When I saw you were in a trance and properly hypnotized, so to speak, that "order" was the first one that occurred to me.
-Of course it was. So…-Peter fidgeted uncomfortably. –Now we know for sure that this is how the crazy resurrected lady had been kidnapping all these people, right?
-That is correct. Our part of work is done.
-Not quite yet it isn't, Walter. You still need to recall where you heard of these lights. Why don't you try some of your mnemonic techniques, see if that jogs your memory a bit?
-Good idea, son, good idea...-Walter was now flying all around the lab, waving his hands, and muttering unintelligible words into his chin.
-In the meantime, I really have to eat something. I'm starving. Gonna pop out for a burger real quick. Be right back.
-I brought some lunch-Astrid spoke up timidly.
-Did you now? Then maybe I don't have to go to the diner after all-Peter smirked. –Would you care to share?
-Yes, of course, I brought it for all of us.
-What did you get?-he asked, awkwardly.
Peter wasn't accustomed to talking to Astrid or… Paying much attention to her, really.
Sure, she was loads of help around the lab and it seemed she could calm Walter down in a jiffy when the need be, but Astrid was also quiet, direct and hardworking and their paths almost never crossed since she mostly moved out of his way and Peter moved out of hers. That was how they were managing to function until now.
They had a row when he left her alone with Walter for several hours but it seemed as if she had forgiven him that offense.
Still, Peter couldn't get the words she told him then out of his mind.
"Do you care about anyone else except yourself, Peter?"
Do I?-he wondered.
Her voice interrupted his inner monologue.
-Takeaway Chinese.
-It doesn't sound bad-he responded warily.
-Um, I got beef rice, chicken rice and shrimp rice… And then I also got meat… Mushroom beef, Teriyaki chicken and something called "Shrimp in Lobster sauce". I've never tried it before but… I like seafood so… It should be fine. I love eating in this restaurant.
-How much was it?-Peter inquired gruffly, looking at the floor, pulling out his wallet.
-This one's on me. You'll buy me lunch next time-her warm disarming, friendly smile made him grin cautiously back. –And you look like you could use a break.
-Yeah… I didn't sleep well last night…-Peter scratched his stubbled cheek. -Maybe five hours in total. And what will all the spring cleaning business and the kid's abduction…
They settled down at a wide wooden table.
-So which one do you want?
-Walter doesn't like seafood but he doesn't care, chicken or beef are good for him. I am very partial to seafood, I loved it since I was a kid. I developed a crush on freshly caught octopus salad.
-Oh my God, really?-Astrid sounded genuinely interested.
Peter thought it was actually quite easy to talk to her. Astrid was positive, kind and an extremely good listener.
A type of person you should always have around.
-Where did you have freshly caught octopus salad?
-In Greece, back when I was ten years old. There were these awesome wooden restaurants near the cliff by the sea, so called "tavernas", but they were more like huts, really, with small tables in the garden and those white and red checkered tablecloths… At nighttime, people would sit around for hours, have long meals, lots of wine and heated conversations. In a taverna anything can happen, the entire place suddenly practically erupts into dancing, singing and plate-smashing, beyond what you could imagine. Greek people are very proud and passionate. It's like mass-insanity but beautiful. But it's not always like that, really… Most tavernas are quiet neighborhood places and everyone has a favorite taverna…
Astrid observed how the permanent scowl Peter was normally wearing, and his defensive, cross-armed attitude somewhat eased up. The deep worried crease between his eyebrows became less prominent as the obviously pleasant memory engulfed him.
Astrid didn't knew him all that well, but to her, Peter always seemed like a tortured, haunted soul, a lost soul who knew neither its origin nor its destination, sailing like a battered driftwood through the sea of life.
Astrid wasn't sure why, but she was deeply sorry for Peter.
It seemed as if he hadn't quite found his place in the world and that all emotions he once might have proudly worn on surface were now buried somewhere deep inside, mere ashes and shadows of their former selves.
-And then you could order a "freshly caught octopus salad" and you could actually see the cook walk towards the edge of the cliff, cast a fishing rod into the sea… Twenty minutes later, you would get your octopus. They'd even asked me if I was pleased with the octopus they caught for me. It was hilarious.
Astrid wondered if Peter had traveled to Greece with Walter and his mother, but having recalled the morning debacle, she firmly decided not to pry.
-Well then, I guess the seafood is yours-Astrid smiled. –Here you go: shrimp rice and shrimp in lobster sauce. I'll take the chicken and Walter can eat the beef later.
They ate in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a while.
Peter mulled on what could he possibly talk to her about and he remembered their last conversation.
-How are your German lessons coming?-he cleared his throat.
-Oh. Okay, I guess.
-Ready for another song translation? Unit two?-Peter grinned, pulling out his MP3 player out of his pocket.
Small smile played around Astrid's lips.
-Only if you can promise me that this tutorial session won't end like the last one.
Peter recalled the rude way in which he had shooed her away from the back room three days ago and his faux-kiss attempt.
-I promise-he said with a devilish grin and Astrid shook her head.
-Okay. I really hope you're telling the truth this time.
They shared the headphones once more, each one putting a bud into one of their ears.
-Are we listening to Rammstein again?
-Their songs are the only ones I have on my MP3 player at the moment so yeah, you're stuck with them.
-Do those rough guys sing ballads from now and then?
-They have several ballads, yes… But the lyrics of those are fairly complicated to understand. I guess the easiest one to comprehend is…-Peter browsed through his music folder and then gulped when he got to the song he was thinking of. –Ohne dich.
-Without you?
-Yes. Here, let me play the chorus for you. It's… Easy to understand.
"Ohne dich kann ich nicht sein
Ohne dich
Mit dir bin ich auch allein
Ohne dich
Ohne dich zähl ich die Stunden ohne dich
Mit dir stehen die Sekunden
Lohnen nicht ohne dich"
-It is. I… I understood everything except one word. "Lohnen"?
-"To be worth".
-His voice is beautiful and… Imbued with emotions in this song. It gives me goosebumps for some reason. And the lyrics are so sad.
Peter merely nodded.
-So is it:
"Without you I cannot be
Without you
With you I am alone too
Without you
Without you I count the hours without you
With you the seconds stand still
They aren't worth it without you"
-A + , girl-a sad smile played on Peter's lips. –Sorry, it's just the stupid thing Walter says when I do something good.
-What is the name of the lead singer?
-Till Lindemann.
-Well from all that roaring and screaming I couldn't really recognize the quality of his voice but it really stands out in this song.
-That's because it was special to him. It… It speaks of expressing mourning over the loss of a loved person. It is also said to contain suicidal thoughts. Suicide sometimes seems like the last option when you've lost the one you've truly loved, and you cannot feel like you can go on without their guidance, or their comfort. And because of this, ending your life seems like a good way to annihilate the feeling of sadness. I used to play this song on repeat many times years ago. Dark… Meaningless…Empty. How I used to feel inside-Peter stopped talking abruptly and his head drooped downwards.
Astrid was quiet for a time.
-Oh my God. That's just so… Depressive, Peter.
-Well, Till Lindemann was in a depressive mood when he wrote and composed it. His mother had just passed away.
Astrid remained speechless after having heard that remark, not really knowing what to tell Peter.
A minute or so later, Peter snorted and waved his hand, as if sending those dark thoughts away.
-But that's no reason why we can't enjoy our lunch, Agent Farnsworth, is it now? When I said there was nothing else on my MP3 player, what I really meant was: nothing else in German.
He pressed the "play" button and Astrid beamed at the familiar saxophone sound and the fast, cheerful rhythm.
-John Coltrane-she whispered.
-Trane the man. Gotta love that old dog-Peter winked at Astrid.
Neither of them spoke for a long while and the only sound that was heard was sound of forks as both Peter and Astrid paid full attention to their meals, looking at the plastic dishes and listening to jazz, each immersed into their own thoughts.