Fringe The Zodiac Paradox

by Christa Faust

  Looking over at Bell, Walter knew what his friend would say. Bell would say that they needed to think of the Zodiac’s victims, that sometimes sacrifice was necessary to defeat a greater evil.

  And he was probably right, but that didn’t make Walter feel any better about it.

  37

  A small curious group gathered around Walter and May.

  “Come on into the lab,” he said, motioning for the students to follow him. Once they were there, Nina counted heads. Amazingly, they managed to gather exactly nine students. Five men and four women.

  “Let’s all introduce ourselves first,” May suggested. “Most of you know me already, I’m May Zhang.”

  She held her hand out to the man standing at her left. A handsome young man with a scruffy attempt at a mustache, shoulder length dirty blond hair parted on the side and piercing blue eyes.

  “Yeah, hey,” he said with a roguish smile that probably got him a lot of action with the ladies. “Gary Keyes.”

  “Simon Tausig,” the next man in the circle said. He was British—a dapper, slightly effeminate lad with neat, trendy sideburns and large ears. The man to his left was a quiet, studious type with heavy black glasses and dark hair just starting to recede on his high, round forehead.

  “David Zweibel,” he said, eyes on his shoes.

  Next up was a skinny and slightly anxious young woman with an unflattering bowl haircut and restless hands.

  “Judy,” she said. “Judy Rusk.

  “Payton Jarvis,” the next guy said. He looked like any of hundreds of students they might have seen at a American Biochemical Society meeting. Socially inept, questionable hygiene, mismatched socks. Walter liked him immediately.

  “Kenneth Van Hoften,” the next guy in the circle announced, barely waiting for Payton to finish before jumping in with his hand out to Walter like a campaigning politician. “But my friends call me Van.” He was expensively dressed, his thick dark hair professionally disheveled. Likely a child of old money, Walter guessed, trying to shake up his square family with drug use and consciousness expansion.

  He had a girl with him, a beautiful young thing with a sleek chestnut ponytail and a sensuous mouth. Her body was tall and lean, all legs. That fact was accented by a micro-mini skirt.

  “This here is the lovely Miss Susan Keswick,” Kenneth said, as if showing off a new pair of shoes. She smiled gamely, though it was clear that she wasn’t even really sure why she was there, let alone why she had been volunteered to participate in some crazy experiment.

  “Leslie Elowitz.” This from the last student, a woman. She said her name like a target shooter cracking a skeet plate in half. Quick, precise, and to the point. She was studying Walter with dark, skeptical eyes behind large round glasses.

  Her thick curly brown hair had been unevenly chopped into a shortish non-style that would have been equally forgettable on a man or a woman. She wore no makeup and was dressed in baggy, androgynous clothes, including a frumpy tweed jacket that could have been the twin of Walter’s own beloved Norfolk.

  “It’s good to meet you all,” Walter said. “And thank you for agreeing to participate in our experiment today. Time is of the essence in this particular endeavor, so I will get directly to the point.”

  He looked over at Doctor Rayley, who winked and grinned.

  “To begin, we will divide into four groups of three,” Walter said. “Each group will consist of two test subjects, who will ingest our special hallucinogenic formula, and one team leader, who will act as ground control, monitoring the subjects, communicating with other groups, and taking all precautions to ensure the safety of the subjects.”

  Bell stepped up beside Walter.

  “The first test group will consist of Walter and me,” he said. “With our associate, Nina Sharp, functioning as control. And, since Doctor Rayley knows you all much better than we do, I will be asking him to choose the members of the other three teams.”

  “Ah, yes,” Rayley said. “Excellent. For starters, I would suggest May Zhang, Leslie Elowitz and Kenneth Van Hoften as team leaders.”

  Walter glanced over at Kenneth, curious about Rayley’s decision to choose him over, for example, Payton Jarvis, who seemed to be a far more appropriate choice. But Rayley knew his students better than he did, and Walter was always the first to admit that he wasn’t the world’s best judge of character.

  “Fine,” Bell said. “Leaders can I have you all here by me, please?”

  “As for the rest of the teams,” Rayley said. “Gary and David, you’re with May. Simon and Judy, with Kenneth.”

  “Hold on a sec there, doc,” Kenneth said. “I really think Susie should be on my team.”

  Rayley shook his head.

  “From what I’ve been told, we can’t have a preexisting relationship coloring the results,” he said. “Susan and Payton, you’re with Leslie.”

  To Walter’s surprise, Susan gave a thoughtful nod, then walked over to stand beside Leslie. Kenneth looked stricken, as if his cat had just decided to go sit in someone else’s lap.

  “Okay, listen up,” Bell said, once everyone had repositioned themselves in their assigned groups. He unfolded a map and spread it open on the table. “Here’s how it’s going to go.”

  38

  After Bell had finished outlining the basics of the plan to the students, he looked over at Walter, signaling him with a wordless nod.

  Walter opened the little case he’d been carrying and looked at the small, stoppered vials that lay within. The individual doses of their special blend that he and Bell had prepared. Danger, death and madness lurked within the clear, innocuous liquid, but also salvation for those people in the park, and for all of Zodiac’s future victims.

  Or so Walter hoped.

  He looked up at Doctor Rayley and the gathered groups of students, and put on what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

  “Here it is,” he said, setting the case on the table beside the rumpled map. “This is the mixture with which we have had all our previous successes, and which I hope will give us the ultimate proof we are seeking this afternoon.” He started handing out the vials as Bell cleared his throat and held up a cautionary finger.

  “I want to make sure that we’re all clear on what we’re doing and where we are going,” he said. “Leaders, can you confirm your destinations, please?”

  May spoke up first.

  “Gary, David, and I,” she said, “will be in the middle of the Sharon Meadow, just north of the playground. We’ll pretend we’re having a picnic lunch, and keep the feedback machine in our picnic basket.” She poked at the map with a slender finger. “We will be there and set up no later than 11:45.”

  “Payton, Susan, and I,” Leslie said, “will be in the parking lot of the lawn bowling club on Bowling Green Drive, also no later than 11:45.”

  “Good,” Bell said. “Kenneth?”

  “I still don’t see why the time is so important.” Kenneth shrugged. “I mean, there’s no real reason we can’t just take our time, is there? It’s an acid trip, not a bank robbery.”

  “It is a scientific experiment,” Walter snapped. It made him feel sick to have to keep lying to the students, but it was imperative to impress the importance of timing upon them. “And we must treat it as one. If we do not want to be dismissed as a bunch of spiritualist phonies, our methodology must be precise, and our standards exacting. The experiment will begin at the stated time, the duration will be recorded to the fraction of the second, with all our impressions recorded immediately.

  “Timeliness is of the essence,” he concluded.

  Kenneth looked sullen.

  “Whatever you say, professor,” he muttered.

  Walter still wasn’t sure why on earth Doctor Rayley had chosen him as a leader.

  Bell cleared his throat again.

  “Kenneth,” he said. “Can you please give us your destination?”

  Kenneth scowled, but nodded.

  “We’ll be parked on Kezar Drive,�
�� he said, “just north of the stadium.” Then he added, “At 11:45.”

  “Good.” Bell nodded. “And our group will be here at the center.” He tapped the map with a capped pen. “Inside the burnt-out Sharon House. Walter?”

  Walter inclined his head, then turned back to the students.

  “Right,” he said. “Here we go. If the six subjects will ingest their doses now, along with Bell and I, and if the monitors would please record the time of ingestion, then we will be on our way.”

  Walter handed Bell one of the vials and took the last one for himself. When he unstoppered it, so did the others. Some of the students grinned nervously.

  “The things we do for science,” Simon said.

  “To science,” Gary said, as if toasting friends in a bar.

  And with that, they all tipped their heads back in unison and let the ounce of sugar water spill over their tongues. After they had all swallowed, they paused and looked around at each other.

  “It will be precisely fifty-four minutes,” Walter said, “before you begin to feel any effects. So it is imperative that we all get ourselves settled in place within a forty-five-minute window, before initial onset.

  “Now, I would ask the team leaders to please try to remember that the safety and peace of mind of the test subjects will be in your hands. Nina, May, Kenneth, Leslie, we are depending on you. Take good care of us.”

  The four team leaders all gave a solemn murmur of assent, and Walter smiled.

  “Good,” he said. “Now, if you’re all ready, lets get the cars packed and get underway.”

  * * *

  The lab phone rang as the students gathered their packs and jackets and started loading the biofeedback machines onto lab carts. Dr. Rayley answered it, then frowned, turning to Walter.

  “Er, Doctor Bishop. It’s for you.”

  Walter blinked. It couldn’t be for him. Nobody but the people in this room knew he was there.

  He looked at Bell and Nina. They looked as scared as he felt. He stepped to the phone and reached for it like it was a live cobra, then brought it to his ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Bishop. Iverson. Listen to me. Latimer is coming for you. At the Institute. I wish I could have warned you sooner, but I was being watched. You have ten minutes at the most. You have to get out now.”

  39

  “But...” Walter stammered. “But how did he... I mean...”

  “Rayley’s been on a watch list for years,” Iverson said. “And once your descriptions got passed around the office, after the fiasco up at the cabin, his surveillance picked you up. You have to go to ground. Whatever you’re planning, just drop it and go. It has no chance of success now. Go!”

  There was a click, and Walter was listening to a dial tone. He looked around to see Bell and Nina staring at him, questions in their eyes. Rayley and the students weren’t paying attention. They were pushing the loaded lab carts toward the door.

  “It was Iverson.” Walter swallowed. “Latimer’s on his way. We were seen here. He said we have ten minutes to get out.”

  Nina swore.

  “Then we better get on the road,” she said, turning resolutely toward the door. “Come on.”

  Bell nodded.

  “Right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Walter didn’t move. He shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “No, not again. This was already so dangerous, and morally problematic. Now? With the federal authorities involved? No. I feel bad enough about what may or may not have happened to Roscoe and the rest of the band. But...” He looked over at May, who was smiling and laughing with Gary. “We just can’t ethically involve any more people without letting them know what they’re really getting into. They deserve to be told the truth of what’s going on.”

  “Walter.” Bell’s voice was a warning growl. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Even if I thought that was a great idea,” Nina said, “which I don’t, you said it yourself, there’s no time.”

  “There has to be.” Walter stepped past them and raised his voice. “Doctor Rayley. Testers. Can you all come back, please? I have one more thing to say before we go.”

  “Damn it, Walter.” Bell and Nina groaned in unison.

  Looking curious, Rayley and the students all made their way back to the lab table and peered expectantly at Walter. He wiped his coat sleeve across his lips, then closed his eyes.

  “We... I... Well, we haven’t been completely honest with you. Not that we’ve lied, we just haven’t told you the whole story. And now I’m going do that. As much as I can anyway. This is going to sound completely crazy, but I hope that, once you know exactly what we are up against, you will still be willing to help us today.”

  He paused for a moment, looking into the curious and expectant faces. Weighing exactly what to tell them and what not to tell them.

  He looked over at Bell, who was frowning, arms crossed.

  Then at antsy Nina, who gestured to her watch.

  “We aren’t just conducting theoretical experiments,” Walter said. “We are fighting to stop a killer. And we can’t do it without your help.” He let that sink in for a few heartbeats, then continued. “There’s no time to go into detail and answer all the reasonable and relevant questions you may have. Because the federal government is also after this dangerous, murderous man. Only they don’t want to stop him, like we do. They want to capture him and use him as what would undoubtedly turn out to be one of the most deadly nuclear weapons ever unleashed against humanity.”

  Expressions on the faces of the students ranged from skeptical to angry to amazed. But he had no choice but to keep going. Time was not his friend.

  “Worse, these same federal agents will be here in just a few minutes to arrest, interrogate, and violate the civil rights of every last one of us. And while we’re in their custody, the killer will be free to shoot everyone on the Golden Gate carousel in exactly...” He looked at his watch. “Sixty-two minutes.”

  “Shoot them?” Kenneth frowned. “You don’t mean... the Zodiac Killer?”

  Walter didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Suddenly the mood in the lab went from casual skepticism to intense interest. So he just nodded.

  “What we are planning is very dangerous,” he said. “With potentially lethal side effects for all of us, and everyone around us. But there are deadly consequences for the killer’s future victims should you chose not to participate. So, while I cannot make you help us, if you are unwilling, I sincerely hope that you will.”

  “It’s no choice at all,” May said, stepping forward without hesitation. “I’m in.”

  “Right,” Leslie echoed, stepping up beside May. “In.”

  All the other students swiftly gathered around them. All of them in.

  Walter hung his head, humbled and grateful.

  “Thank you,” he said. “This is a wonderful thing you’re doing.”

  “Yeah, fantastic,” Nina said. “But we’re not going to do it at all if we don’t get going. Now, come on. Let’s move!”

  She clapped her hands and the students all hurried back to the lab carts and rolled them out into the hall. Walter let out a long, shaky breath and started to follow, but Nina put a hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

  “Way to go, Walter,” Nina said. “You should have been a politician. Ask not what science can do for you...”

  Bell nodded in agreement.

  “Honestly,” he said. “I can’t believe you managed it.”

  Walter shivered, suddenly chilled.

  “I almost wish I hadn’t.”

  They hurried into the hall and down the stairs.

  * * *

  Walter looked uneasily around the parking lot of the Institute as he followed Nina and Bell out. He was afraid they would find unmarked black cars, filled with Latimer’s men, blocking the drive. But everything seemed quiet. The students were loading the individual biofeedback machines into their vehicles and scrambling into their seats.
May was driving a tan Ford station wagon. Kenneth drove a teal Volkswagen microbus, and Leslie drove a white eight-seat passenger van owned by the Institute.

  “Maybe we made it,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

  Nina climbed into the driver’s seat of her Beetle, and fired it up as Walter got into the back seat, and Bell slid in beside her. Before Walter had a chance to get buckled in, she was surging toward the drive and pulling out into the street.

  “Easy,” Bell said. “The last thing we want to do is draw attention to ourselves.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Nina said. “But Walter’s little speech cost us some precious time. We’ve got just under an hour to get to the park before that psycho starts his rampage.”

  “Still,” Walter said, “we’ll be even more delayed if we get stopped for speeding.”

  “Okay, okay,” she replied. “I suppose you’re right.” She slowed reluctantly as the bus, the van, and station wagon swayed out of the Institute lot and fell in behind her. They trundled down Stanford Avenue toward the Bay Bridge at a reasonable thirty miles an hour, while Walter and Bell swiveled their heads in every direction.

  Walter was positive that he was going to spot a line of unmarked black Fords following them, or coming to intercept them.

  And finally, just when he had begun to hope they might have made it into the clear, the dreaded black cars cruised into view.

  40

  The Beetle was just coming down the ramp on the San Francisco end of the Bay Bridge when Walter heard Bell suck in a quick breath, and he turned to look.

  There, on the opposite side of the highway, starting up the ramp that would take them to the east-bound lower tier of the bridge, was a line of unmarked black cars in the middle of heavy traffic. In the driver’s seat of the first car, he saw a recognizable face with a square jaw and Hollywood tan.

  “Oh, hell,” Walter said. “It’s Latimer.

  Nina turned and looked, then laughed.

  “This is great,” she said. “Look at them. They’re stuck. They won’t be able to turn around until he gets to the Oakland side of the bridge. And he won’t know that we’ve left the Institute until—”