It's been brought to my attention that I seem to have forgotten to give credit to the mastermind behind the no-brow, chocolate chip, smily pancakes. For this, I certianly owe one Lolita Tides. Beg pardon!
12.
SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 16:00:14
Astrid paused as Walter tugged on her hand, motioning for her to stop, "What is it?" she asked as she turned to him.
"They're close," Walter said, still and alert. Light often escaped his tightly-shut eyelids every now and again, stinging like needles on his eyes and granting him a splitting headache, "They're ahead of us. By a few hours, I'd say."
"Who?"
"My son, and I can only assume Olivia. They met up, they're traveling together."
"How do you know?" Astrid asked, bewildered.
Walter paused, wondering how to phrase his logic without alarming her, "You are a police woman, correct?"
"Sort of. More of a cyber cop. Why?"
"None the less, you are aware of certain… traces that human beings leave behind."
"What are you getting at?"
"Exocrine sweat glands are the most common, and are located all over the body. The sweat it produces is practically odorless, and regulates body temperature. When the internal temperature goes up, the exocrine glands transfer water to the surface of the skin where the heat gets removed by evaporation."
"So they sweat. We sweat. So what? How do you know it's them?"
"But this is where they were when the lights came on," Walter said, smiling sheepishly, "Apocrine sweat glands are located in the armpits. They open directly into the hair follicles, rather than directly onto the surface of the skin. They secrete a fatty sweat, and it's the action of local bacteria that gives this sweat its characteristic odor. The oiliness, plus the scent, can advertise when and how the individual unconsciously began to use these glands. In this case… they became exceptionally nervous upon seeing one another. I'd say they quite like each other."
"Okay. So you… you can smell their sweat." Astrid said, a note of nausea in her voice, "That's probably the grossest thing I've ever heard."
"Sorry."
"But it's brilliant, I have to admit. You haven't been smelling me, have you?" Astrid said, half-joking.
"It's only a chemical reaction, miss Aspire. But…"
"Oh gawd, I don't want to know!" Astrid squealed, "That is so nasty!"
"We have to hurry, miss. I know how odd this sounds, but I think I may be loosing the scent," Walter wondered if she saw how red his ears were becoming, as he shook away thoughts of perspiration glistening on her perfect, dusky-colored skin…
"Okay, but no more talk about sweat, alright? It's just really gross."
"Alright." Walter replied, "Right, at the next corner, please."
Astrid took his hand, a bit more tentatively, this time, and they continued on, "And after that?"
"Right again. Just keep going right. I have a theory."
xXx
"Are you hungry?" Peter asked. He had found that even now that the lights were on, the only thing he had to look at was her- it certainly made things awkward, as they had both set their sights strait ahead.
"Does it matter?" Olivia responded, as they rounded yet another featureless cement corner.
"I guess not," Peter answered, "I was just worrying, you know. What if we're stuck here for… a while?"
"We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen," Olivia replied with a smile.
"See, now that- you're starting to seem like a person, and less like a government-controlled robot," Peter smirked, "careful careful."
"Then I'll stop," Olivia replied with a grin, "You keep your logic going like it is, I'm going to draft you for the FBI."
"Aw, hell no," Peter laughed, "I'm not available for reprogramming, sorry."
Olivia was about to retaliate, when they both froze, hearing a noise. Peter jumped and spun on his heel as something touched his shoulder, his eyes wide.
"Oh!" someone exclaimed, "I, um, I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm can't help but be very quiet…" the stranger took a few steps backward, his senses piqued in every direction, as he was blindfolded, "Peter? Is- is that you, son…?"
"Who are you?" Peter asked, gaping.
"My name is Walter Bishop."
"Glassmouth?" Olivia questioned.
"Walter?" someone peeked out from around the corner. It was a girl with a halo of curls and wide, onyx-colored eyes, "is it alright?"
"Who are you?!" Peter cried, and Walter shed away from the noise slightly, "what the hell is going on?!"
"Agent Astrid Farnsworth," the girl responded, approaching them, "Walter and I have been looking for you guys. You must be Peter and Olivia."
"How did you find us?" Olivia asked.
"Let's just say it's a method I'd rather not use again," Astrid said with a slightly sick looking grin.
"What's wrong with him?" Peter asked gruffly, frowning at Walter.
"Walter can't see in such bright lights, being in the dark so long screwed up his eyes," Astrid explained.
"Great. So he's blind."
"I'm not blind," Walter said.
"Yeah?" Peter raised his hand in front of his blindfolded face, waving it slightly, "Looks like you're pretty blind to me-" He jumped as Walter seized his forearm in a blur of movement.
"I'm not blind," Walter repeated, his fingers loosening, and he dropped Peter's arm, "I just can't see."
"Wait- I've seen you before," Olivia said, taking a closer look at Walter, who shifted under her gaze "yes… you won some sort of award a long time ago for some sort of theory, right?"
"Um, I developed a sociological theory on the effects of communism on mass mentality," Walter answered hopefully, "I don't remember winning any awards, however. Just a lot of painful criticism, I'm afraid."
"I remember the news articles from the database. They only got around to realizing the full potential of the ideas after you…" Olivia trailed away.
"What? After what? I got an award, how exciting!" Walter exclaimed happily.
"After you died," Peter finished flatly.
Walter looked taken aback, "Oh."
The lights flickered, and they all glanced up in fear "We should probably get moving," Astrid suggested, "now that all of us are here, we should be able to properly navigate, without having to play catchup."
"But we're still lost," Olivia said.
"No we're not," Peter and Walter said at once, and glanced at each other in surprise.
"How do you know?" Peter asked cynically.
"I'm crazy, and therefore don't have to explain anything," Walter replied stiffly, crossing his arms across his chest, "Just like your mother, questioning my every motive."
Peter rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Anyways, what I mean is that it seems that this labyrinth might in fact be shaped something like a spiral, leading those trapped within to the center."
"Like a whirlpool," Olivia said, nodding, "I'd thought of that. If we keep taking rights, it'll eventually lead us to the center, whereas if we start taking lefts, we'll make it to the outside, and strait back to our cells."
"But if we end up in the center, how do we get out then?" Astrid asked, "There can't possibly be a way out that way, we'd only go past the center and essentially start taking lefts. There'd be no way out."
"Such uncharacteristic pessimism," Walter chuckled, and paused, "Oh, I'm sorry. Please continue, son."
"Nah, I'm done. As much as it sucks, logically, the only way out of here is up or down, when we reach the center, which we may have even passed already. She's right; there's no way out."
"But you just said it- up or down. If I may explain," Walter straitened himself, pleased at the opportunity to teach once more, "You are still thinking of this along the lines of a two-dimensional thing, such as a maze on a piece of paper. Now, normally speaking, that would work, and we would have only to run the gauntlet to its eventual conclusion. But this place may in fact work in levels," Walter paused, looking thoughtful, "the only thing that I can place as a reasonable faxn is one of those old wooden box mazes."
Peter had to stop him, "Whoa, hold up. What you're suggesting is just a complicated way of explaining that we've been walking in circles?"
"Not so complicated. Imagine, if you would, a two-dimensional strip. Twist the strip once, and bring the ends to meet. You have just taken on a third dimension."
"A Möbius strip," Astrid said, touching her fingertip to her lips in thought, "But we're already three-dimensional, so you're suggesting a fourth dimension?"
"This is impossible, Walter," Peter growled, "You know it, so why are you wasting our time?"
"It has been suggested on a number of occasions that the fourth dimension is time. So bending the third dimension in which we exist would in turn manifest time in a manner of a dimension we could physically experience," Walter said, "and perhaps manipulate."
"He's saying we're stuck in a time Möbius," Peter grumped, "doomed to continually retrace our steps in time endlessly. There, doesn't that just cheer you up?"
"We need to find the elevator," Walter shrugged.
"What elevator?" Olivia questioned.
"I'm only hoping it's an elevator, because I don't like stairs. They make my knees hurt," Walter replied.
"He means that we need to stop working on the x-axis and start working on the y-axis," Peter said, "if we elect to go up or down, we break the strip by jumping the track and landing in another place in time."
"I'm so proud of you, son," Walter murmured.
"How?" Astrid questioned, "We can't dig, we can climb. We're stuck."
"It's going to hurt," Walter warned in sing song, "and I've never done it devoid of my sight. But I think I can manage."
xXx
SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 14:56:48