"So what you're saying is that one of us is fooling the rest?" she asked incredulously.
"What I'm saying is that we're talking about a very disturbed individual."
No one said a word. All eyes turned to look at Carter, though Elisa wasn't entirely sure why.
"If it's a disturbed mind, it must be a physicist," Carter said.
"Or an ex-soldier," Blanes replied, staring back at him. "Someone with so much trauma in their life that they're living a constant nightmare..."
Carter's shoulders shook as though he was laughing, but his lips didn't move. Then he turned, walked into the kitchen, and poured himself another cup of reheated coffee.
"So why does he show no sign of life for years and then suddenly reappear?" Jacqueline inquired.
"That expression 'for years,' makes no sense from Zig Zag's perspective," Blanes stated. "For Zig Zag, everything happens in the blink of an eye, and those periods are what he uses to travel through time, like any other split. For him, we're still in the station, on our way to the control room with the alarm going off. In his time string, in his world, we're all still trapped in that exact moment. That's why we can't see him, even though he affects us so profoundly. In fact, I'm sure he's picking us off in a specific order. Do you remember who the first person to arrive in the control room was, besides Ric? It was Rosalyn. And she was the first one to die. And after her? Who got there next?"
"Cheryl Ross," Elisa whispered. "She told me so herself."
"And she was the second one killed."
"Mendez was the first of my men to arrive," Carter said. "He was on guard duty and ... Oh, Christ. He was the third victim! What in the..."
They all glanced at each other uneasily. Jacqueline seemed extremely anxious.
"I was after Reinhard," she whimpered, and then turned to Elisa. "What about you?"
"Wait, there's a mistake somewhere," Elisa said. "Nadja and I arrived together, and Reinhard was already there, but Nadja was killed before him..." She stopped suddenly. No. Nadja told me that she'd gotten up earlier. She was the one who discovered that Ric wasn't in bed. She corrected herself. "No, that's right. He's picking us off in the same order that we woke up and went out into the hall."
For a second, they avoided each other's eyes, lost in private thoughts. Elisa was ashamed at the relief she felt on realizing that both Jacqueline and Blanes had arrived before her.
"Hold on, everybody." Carter held up a stumpy hand. The color had drained from his face, but his voice had regained its authoritative tone. "If this theory of yours is correct, Professor, then what would happen when he ... or should I say 'it'... kills itself?"
"If he kills his alter ego, they'll both die," Blanes responded.
"And if something else kills his alter ego..."
"Zig Zag will die."
Carter nodded, as if that were all he needed to know.
"So all we have to do is figure out which one of us it is, and kill him or her—regardless of who it is—before Zig Zag takes his next victim. It's obvious that he's not going to kill himself: if he hasn't done it yet, then it seems that whether by coincidence or by design he's leaving himself for last. So we have to do it ourselves." Carter paused and then looked at them defiantly and repeated, "Regardless of who it is. Am I right?"
Was that the solution? Elisa thought it sounded horrific, and yet it was perfectly straightforward, even fitting.
A new uneasiness settled in among them now. Even Victor, who'd been quiet up until then, was drawn into the conversation.
"It's a man..." Jacqueline's voice echoed like a stone cast onto the floor. "I know it. It's a man." She looked up at Carter and Blanes, her dark eyes flashing.
"Are you trying to say that women are not perverted, Professor?" Carter asked.
"I'm saying that I know it's a man!" she shrieked. "And so does Elisa!" She turned to her. "You feel it, too. Go on, tell them!"
Before she had a chance to answer, Carter said, "Let's say you're right. It's a man. What are we supposed to do? There are still two possibilities. You want us to play chicken, me and the professor? Should we slit each other's throats just to be safe, so you can live in peace?"
"Three," Victor said very quietly, creating another silence. "Three possibilities. Don't forget about Ric."
Elisa knew he was right. They couldn't discard Valente until they had some proof that he was dead. And, in fact, judging by the kind of "contamination" that she and Jacqueline were feeling, he seemed to be the most likely candidate.
"If we could only figure out which image he used that night," Blanes lamented.
For a second, the memory of Ric Valente overwhelmed Elisa, dragging her back off into an awful world. It was as if those ten years had never passed. She saw his face, his perpetual smile; she heard his mocking tone and humiliating comments. In fact, wasn't he just mocking all of them right now? In a flash, she realized what had to be done.
"I know. There's a way. Of course! There is one way—"
"No!"
Blanes had understood what she meant; that much was clear by how loud he'd shouted.
"David, it's our only chance! Carter's right! We have to figure out which one of us is Zig Zag before he kills again!"
"Elisa, don't ask me to do that."
"I'm not asking you!" She was proving she could shout, too. "It's a proposal. It's not up to you to make this decision, David!"
He gave her a dreadful look. And the silence that followed was broken only by Carter's cynical, drained voice.
"Forget Zig Zag. If you really want to see violence, just lock a couple scientists up in the same room." He took a few steps and stood between them. He lit a cigarette (Victor hadn't realized he even smoked) and took long drags, seeming more intent on inhaling smoke than expelling words. "Would you two brilliant minds, geniuses of the physics world, explain what you're arguing about?"
"Risks: creating another Zig Zag!" Blanes shouted in Elisa's direction, paying no attention to Carter whatsoever. "Benefits: none!"
"Even if that's true, what else can we do?" She turned to Carter and spoke more calmly. "We know that Ric used both the accelerator and the computers in the control room that night. What I'm proposing is that we film the control room for a few seconds and then go back and open the corresponding time strings to see what he did, and what happened next, including Rosalyn's murder. We know exactly when it all happened, because of the blackout. We can open two or three time strings from just before that moment. That might let us see what Ric was doing, or which image he used to create Zig Zag."
"And then we'd know who it is." Carter scratched his beard and looked at Blanes. "Sounds like a well-reasoned plan to me."
"You're forgetting one tiny detail," Blanes said, facing Carter. "The whole reason Zig Zag appeared to begin with is because Ric opened a time string from the recent past! You want that to happen again? Two Zig Zags?"
"But you yourself explained it," Elisa objected. "The subject has to be unconscious for the split to be dangerous. And, personally, I don't think Ric was asleep while he was using the accelerator that night, do you?" She watched Blanes intently and then spoke again, softening her voice. "Look at it this way. What other option do we have? We can't defend ourselves. Zig Zag is going to keep hunting us down until he kills himself, if he ever does."
"We could try to figure out how to keep him from being able to suck up any energy—"
"For how long, David? If we managed to stop him now, how long would he take to come back next time?" She appealed to the rest of the group. "I've been calculating the intervals between attacks and the amount of energy consumed. The period between attacks has been halved. The first one was one hundred and ninety million seconds after Mendez's death, and the second was ninety-four million five hundred thousand seconds after Nadja's death. That's about half. At that rate, Zig Zag has another forty-eight hours before going into hibernation for what will probably be less than a year. He's already killed four people in forty-eight hours. He could
get another two or three today or tomorrow and finish the rest of us off in less than six months." She eyed Blanes. "We're damned, David, no matter what we do. Our days are numbered. I just want to be in control of how I die."
"I'm with her," Carter said.
Elisa searched for Jacqueline's glance. She stood right beside her but seemed far off, distant. Something in her posture or her expression made her fade away.
"I can't take it anymore...," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I just want to do away with ... that... monster. I'm with Elisa."
"I'm not going to offer an opinion," Victor said quickly when Elisa turned to him. "You're the ones who have to decide. I just want to ask one question. Once you find out who it is, are you absolutely sure you'll be able to kill whoever it turns out to be in cold blood?"
"With my bare hands," Jacqueline spat. "And if it's me, it'll be even easier."
"Relax, Father." Carter slapped Victor's shoulder. "I've killed people for a lot less than this. I'll take care of it. I've blown people away for coughing with their mouths open."
"But the person the split came from isn't to blame," Victor continued, unfazed. "Ric should never have carried out that experiment without permission, but even if it's him, he doesn't deserve to die."
Their only blame lies in being asleep. Elisa was with Victor on this, but she didn't want to tackle this particular issue right then.
"Regardless, we need to know who it is." She turned to Blanes. "David, that leaves you. Are you with us?"
"No!" he cried, storming out of the room, repeating, "I am not with you! I am not with you!" in an anguished voice.
For a second, no one reacted. And then Carter spoke slowly, darkly.
"He's a little too concerned with making sure this experiment isn't carried out, don't you think?"
ELISA decided to follow him, reaching the hall in time to see him turn toward the corridor leading to the first barracks. Instantly, she knew where he was headed. He turned left, passed the lab doors, and opened the one that led to his old office. That was one of the areas worst hit by the explosion, and now it was little more than a dark, empty mausoleum.
The wind moaned through the cracks in the buttressed walls. The only thing left was a small table. Blanes rested his fists on it.
Suddenly, she felt like she was interrupting one of his Bach recitals to show him the results of her calculations. When he found mistakes, he used to say, "Now go correct that damn error once and for all!"
"David," she said softly.
He didn't respond. He was just standing there in the dark, hanging his head.
Elisa felt calmer now, though it wasn't easy. The heat and the tension were both unbearable. Despite the fact that all she wore was a tank top and a pair of shorts, her back, armpits, and forehead were drenched in sweat. She really needed to get some sleep. Even just a few minutes, but she had to close her eyes. Nevertheless, she knew (first thing she told herself) that if she wanted to live, she'd have to stay awake, and (second thing) above all, she had to remain calm.
That's why she decided to be totally up front.
"You lied to us, David."
He turned and stared at her.
"You said only the people who carried out the experiments saw splits. Marini got the images of the rats and dogs, but you both did the Unbroken Glass. You saw the glass's split, too, didn't you? That's why you don't want us to do this now."
He gazed at her in the darkness.
She could picture what he was seeing: her hourglass figure, backlit, leaning in the doorway, her black hair up in a ponytail, cropped T-shirt short enough to show her stomach, cutoffs rubbing against her thighs.
"Elisa Robledo," he whispered. "The smartest, most beautiful student... and the most arrogant little fucker."
"You never gave a shit about any of those things."
They were weighing each other up with their glances. And then, simultaneously, they smiled. But David went on to say the most macabre thing she could imagine.
"There's another Zig Zag victim that you don't know about.
The one that I killed." His fists rested on the table. He stared down at them intensely, gazing at something only he could see. The whole time he spoke, he never looked up at Elisa. "Did you know that when I was eight years old, I saw my little brother electrocuted? We were in the dining room, my mother, my brother and I. And... I remember this really well... my mother disappeared for a minute and my brother, who'd been playing with a ball, started playing with the tangle of cords behind the TV without my realizing. I was reading a book, I still remember the title: The Marvels of Science. And at one point, I looked up and saw my little brother all stiff, his hair sticking out like a porcupine's. He was making this guttural sound. From the waist down, he looked like a water balloon; he was urinating and defecating on himself. I threw myself onto him, half crazed. I'd read somewhere that you shouldn't touch someone who was being electrocuted, but at the time I didn't care. I ran to him and pushed him hard, like we were fighting. Just then the fuses blew, and that was what saved me. But in my memory, I have the impression that I somehow ... touched electricity. It's a very strange memory, and I know it's not real, per se, but I can't get it out of my head. I touched electricity, and I touched death. And death, the death I felt, was not a calm force, it wasn't something that descended gently and put an end to things. It was taut and hard and it buzzed like a powerful machine. Death was a charred metal monster... When I opened my eyes, my mother was hugging me. I don't remember my brother after that. I erased the vision of his body from my memory. And that was when I decided to become a physicist. I guess I wanted to learn everything I could about the enemy..."
He stopped and finally looked up at her. Then, in a broken voice, he went on.
"A couple of days ago, I lived through another terrible moment. The worst one since my brother's death. But that time, I regretted having become a physicist. That was on Tuesday. Reinhard called me around lunchtime, after having taken a look at Sergio's documents, and he told me what he thought was happening. I had to go to Madrid to prepare for our meeting, but first... first I wanted to see Albert Grossmann, my mentor. I had to see him. I think I once told you that he was against the whole idea of Project Zig Zag. He helped me discover equations for the sequoia theory, but when he began to suspect the possible consequences of entanglement, he quit, leaving it to Sergio and me. He said he didn't want to commit a sin. Maybe that was because he was old. I was young, and I was glad he'd said that. That's the biggest difference between old people and young ones: the elderly are horrified by sin, and the young are attracted to it. Anyway, that Tuesday after Reinhard told me everything Marini had done, I aged. Overnight. And I needed to go tell Grossmann. Maybe I wanted to be absolved." He paused. Elisa listened, rapt, her head leaning against the doorframe. "He was in a private hospital in Zurich. He knew he was dying, and he'd accepted it. His cancer was very advanced; he had pulmonary and osteal metastases. He was in and out of the hospital every other week. I got them to let me in, even though it wasn't visiting hours. And he lay there, listening to me in agony. I could see death descending over him the way night descends over the horizon. He was terrified when I told him that the murders (which he didn't know about) were connected to Zig Zag's existence. He wouldn't even let me finish. He called me a bastard. 'You tried to see what's forbidden! God forbade us, and you did it anyway! You are to blame, and Zig Zag is your punishment!' He kept repeating it, shouting as loud as he could, coughing, as he lay there on his deathbed. 'Zig Zag is your punishment!' He was already dead, he just didn't know it."
Blanes panted, as though rather than tell a story he'd run five miles. He drummed his fingers on the dusty table like it was a keyboard.
"A nurse came in and kicked me out. When I got to Madrid the next day, I found out he'd died that night. In a way, Zig Zag used me to kill him."
"No, David, you didn't—"
"You're right," he interrupted her, struggling to speak. "I did see the glass's spli
ts. Sergio and I studied them, and we knew the risks of quantum entanglement. I refused to continue, and thought I'd convinced Sergio to quit, too. We swore we'd never tell. But he kept experimenting in secret. Years later, I started to sense what was happening, but I didn't say a word. Not to Grossmann, or to anyone else. Everyone around me was dying, and I... I didn't say a word!" Suddenly, he burst into tears.
They were awkward, racking sobs, as if crying were something he had no idea how to do. Elisa went to him and held him. She thought of Blanes's mother, holding her oldest son as tight as she could, touching him to make sure that at least he was alive, that at least he had not been touched by the powerful machine.
"You didn't know...," she cooed softly, stroking his sweaty neck. "You couldn't be sure, David. None of this is your fault."
"Elisa... My God, what have I done? ... What have we done? ... What has the entire scientific community done?"
"Get it right, or get it wrong: that's all we can do." Elisa held him as she spoke. "We're going to try again, David. And this time we're going to get it right. Please, let me try..."
Blanes seemed to have calmed down a little. But when he pulled away and looked into her eyes, she could see sheer terror there.
"I'm as scared of getting it right as I am of getting it wrong," he said.
"THAT'S it," Jacqueline announced from her seat.
"Whatever the professor wants," Carter said, watching the screen; Elisa was at the computer. "Right smack on her ass."
Elisa turned back to the tiny camera hooked up to the control room computer. It was on a tripod behind her, aimed at the keyboard. She nodded, approving of the position. If Ric had used the accelerator that night, she guessed he'd done it from there. Plus, from that position it would also record the door to the generator room, where Rosalyn had died.
She'd spent all afternoon preparing. She convinced Blanes to let her do it alone (she'd had to convince Victor, too): it was less risky for the group that way, she said, because if there were splits, she'd be the only one to see them. She didn't want any help, even with her calculations, claiming it would just slow her down. But she did have to learn how to operate the equipment. Though Blanes didn't know everything about SUSAN, he knew enough to teach her to turn the particle beams on and off. Victor helped out by checking the computers. Elisa didn't know much about the programs on them, but the software was pretty outdated and that worked in her favor. The image profilers were more complicated, but she'd only use them if she had to. She wanted to see the images just as they were.
Zig Zag Page 38
