Chapter 8

He'd been reading through some of Walter's old papers on recombinant DNA and applying the concept of genetic re-engineering to non-organic material, trying to find any clues on how the synthesized compounds in the toxins were being created. As he dug through box after box, he kept finding traces of Walter's habits…empty Red Vines bags, wrappers from DingDongs and RingDings, and tiny little circles burnt into the pages filled with Walter's handwritten notes. When he moved the boxes around in Walter's office, he kept finding little baggies, all neatly labeled (from the label maker) with names and dates… Brown Betty, Lemon Zinger, Afghani Kush, Sparkle Plenty.

"Walter, you crazy old man," Peter thought fondly. "No wonder you were seeing green unicorns."

When he moved Walter's bong out of the way for the third or fourth time, it occurred to him that maybe Liv was right… if he needed to think like Walter, he needed to see the world through Walter's eyes. He closed the door to Walter's office, cranked up the music, and fired up the bong.

In all his years of living by his wits, he'd never had the luxury, or the desire, to blur his perception of the world through anything stronger than alcohol. He'd been around users, of course, and didn't have problems with the occasional contact high, but it just wasn't a habit he'd ever had time to indulge. Obviously, Walter had built up a tolerance; after a couple of hits, Peter laid his head down on Walter's desk, a stack of file folders for a pillow, and dozed until he heard Astrid leaving for the night.

When he heard Astrid calling her goodbyes, he raised his head and rubbed his eyes. He still had enough of a buzz on to feel it, but he didn't feel like he was moving in slow motion anymore. He propped his feet up on the desk and started on the next folder in the stack. After a couple of hours, he realized the high was wearing off. Even though the lab was locked and there were no security cameras inside the offices, Peter wasn't comfortable with lighting up; Astrid had been his buffer during the day. He knew that never bothered Walter, but then, what DID bother Walter?

What was it… he remembered Walter talking about a place he and Belly used to go…. The steam tunnels, that was it! He'd go down there for a couple of hours, finish up this stack of files, then go home. He packed up the bong and its accoutrements, a couple of baggies, Walter's Walkman, and the files, patted his pockets for keys and phone, then set off for the underbelly of Harvard.

As he walked out of Walter's office, one of the floor tiles creaked. He was already a few steps into the lab when it hit him - "Wait, floor tiles don't creak." He returned to Walter's office and tested each exposed tile until he found it, just a few steps from the wall. He pried up the tile and peered into Walter's hidey-hole. "Not only was the man a packrat," Peter thought, "He was a paranoid packrat."

He found a bound notebook, full of Walter's drawings and scribbled descriptions. Some of them he recognized, some he'd heard Walter talk about… and some were complete mysteries. He replaced the tile and threw the notebook in the box with the rest of his father's files.

After a couple of false starts, he found Walter's underground lair, as he'd come to think of it – a little alcove, hidden from the main tunnel, with a power strip, a small shelf attached to the tunnel wall, and… a couple of recliners. How the hell he and Belly got recliners down there…Peter laughed inwardly at his father's antics.

After settling in, he could understand why Walter came down here. The steady whoosh of steam passing through the pipes was white noise, broken only by the gurgling of the bong and Peter's lung-rattling coughing. After a few hits of Brown Betty, Peter felt sufficiently stoned to dive back into Walter's notes. He turned on the Walkman (a little Miles) and started to read. Soon, he was absorbed in the files.

They were finally starting to make some sense. He knew Liv was joking when she reminded him that Walter was 'under the influence' when he came up with most of his ideas… but the more he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed. Just like Walter coaxed his memories out of hiding with music and food, he was trying to enhance his perception and understanding of Walter's research by emulating his state of mind.

He was coughing his lungs out, and the sound echoed in the steam tunnels underneath the lab. How the hell did Walter do this all the fucking time? He held the quarter over the bowl and breathed as deeply as he could with his chest on fire.

When he opened a file and saw September's cryptic notation on the first page, he almost dropped the folder. This had to be part of "The Plan" that Walter and September devised, the plan they followed in 2036. As he skimmed through Walter's scribbled notes, the tapes they'd pulled out of the amber started to make more sense. The formulas on Walter's white board, the last work of his father… it all began to coalesce. And if this allowed them to create a wormhole to the future… who's to say it couldn't be done again, this time as a two way street?

After another hit, it all became clear. Suddenly, Peter HAD to see the formulas again. He tapped the ashes from the bowl and ground them under his feet, then stowed the bong and baggie, along with the other files, back in the box. Tucking the folder under his arm, he took off through the labyrinth of tunnels back to the lab.

ooo

He stood before the white board, following Walter's free flowing theories interspersed with what had to be September's meticulous annotations. It was all falling into place.

"Walter, you mad genius." He picked up a marker and began scribbling notes to himself so that he'd be able to make sense out of it all later. When he reached the equation that proposed the ability to move through time… he couldn't capture his thoughts quickly enough. He flipped the board and scrawled his ideas across the vast blank space, rotating the board from time to time to reference Walter's notations.

He stepped back and reviewed his work. It just might work… it WOULD work. He grinned broadly to himself. Maybe those 6 IQ points weren't so important after all, he thought as he flipped the marker behind his back and caught it handily, then headed back to the tunnels for another bowl and contemplation of his new theory.

ooo

"Astrid, I don't know whether to be scared or angry," Olivia confessed, gratefully accepting the coffee mug Astrid passed to her over the lab table. "Nothing… no voice mails, messages, nothing. For TWO days!"

Astrid looked at her with sympathy in her eyes. "That just doesn't sound like Peter…"

"He's still getting used to Walter not being here," Olivia said sadly, "but he wouldn't just take off without telling us. Even Walter left the tape…" her voice trailed off as she started looking around the lab. With the exception of Peter's scribbles on the white board, nothing had changed in the last couple of days. "I wonder…" she said thoughtfully, "I wonder if the surveillance film would tell us anything. Could you…"

"I'm on it," Astrid was already moving to a workstation to access the Harvard security system. In minutes, she brought up the footage from the Kresge Building cameras – the exterior doors and the hallway outside the lab entrance. Two pairs of eyes scanned the display, watching the steady flow of students entering and leaving the building during the day dwindle to janitorial staff in the evening… to nothing.

"He came in two days ago, but... " Astrid hesitated.

"But he never left," Olivia finished, giving her a worried look.

"I'm sure there's an explanation," Astrid said hurriedly as she displayed the video coverage of the basement hallway on the next monitor. She noted the time she left the lab two evenings ago, then compared the time to the footage on the building exits; they were synchronized within a few seconds of each other. Turning back to the hallway footage, she and Olivia studied the display.

"There!" Olivia pointed to the lanky figure of her husband walking through the lab door. "19.03.29 – can you find it?"

Astrid's fingers flew over the keyboard as she searched for the corresponding frames of the exterior footage. "Nothing… I've gone ten minutes before and after, there's just no record of him leaving the building."

Olivia drummed her fingers on the table. There was something in the back of her mind… something about this was familiar. An image of the five of them – Walter, Peter, Astrid, Etta, and herself – flashed through her mind; slipping out of the lab, looking down the hallway, loosening the screws on the ventilation grate… "That's it," she exclaimed. "He's in the tunnels."

Astrid stared at her.

"The steam tunnels. The utility tunnels that run under the Harvard campus." Olivia was already heading towards the door.

"Olivia, wait!" Astrid was focused on the monitor. "You'll need a map, it's like a maze down there."

Olivia nodded. "You're right… he could be anywhere down there."

Astrid looked at her curiously. "And how do you know that's where he is?"

"Walter…" Olivia stopped. "Walter told us that he and Bell used the tunnels when they were lab partners. They marked their paths on the walls so they could find their way around." She walked slowly back to the lab table where Astrid sat, perched on a stool in front of the monitors.

She spread her hands flat on the metal surface of the table and looked down. "We used the tunnels to sneak in and out of the lab… when the Observers had taken over. In the future."

Astrid focused on the monitor in front of her as she searched for schematics. "One of these days, you'll have to tell me all about that."

Olivia grimaced and shook her head. "Some of it… you don't want to know."

"Here… I've got something, Come look at this."

They studied the display; the schematics combined the tunnels with conduits for electricity and fiber optics, making it look more like a plate of spaghetti than a map. "I don't have any idea where he could be…" Olivia commented. She sighed.

"Well, we know he came out last night," Astrid murmured as she nodded towards the white board. "I can stay with Etta tonight, if you want to wait for him,"

Olivia looked relieved. "You know she loves her Aunt Astrid… "