Fringe TV Show - Fringe Recaps, Fringe Reviews & Fringe Episodes | TWoP

By Daniel

A passenger jet soars through darkened skies lit sporadically by flashes of lightning in the surrounding clouds. The ride inside is getting bumpy, and the monitors in the seat-backs change from the flight-path map (showing a trans-Atlantic route) to an image of hands buckling a seatbelt backup. An old couple holds hands and looks concerned. A younger couple barely stop their conversation.

We focus on one fellow in particular who seems to be having a rough go of it. He's bent forward in his seat. After determining that he can't quite reach far enough to actually kiss his ass goodbye, he sits up, opens up a briefcase and scrambles for an insulin pen, his seatmate looking on with undisguised interest. Buddy jabs himself in the stomach, recaps the pen, and then sits back. "My friend, it is just an electrical storm," says his seatmate, who then offers him ... gum? Yay, my fear of flying is gone: I have gum! Suddenly, Insulin Man bolts from his seat and scrambles up the aisle, as the electrical storm starts scrambling the monitors and lights. They're flying through one of those Class 5 Dramatic Lighting storms! A stewardess unbuckles herself and chases after him, but he's gone completely batshit. She catches him, and he turns around, only his face is all melty and gross. Then he pukes all over her. This, you can imagine, does not go over well with the rest of the passengers, who, being modern-day plane travelers, are no strangers to mind-numbing horror.

But now everyone is screaming, and everyone's faces are hideously disfigured, like a ProActiv "before" picture, and a stewardess screams some words in German into the cockpit phone, and the co-pilot opens the door to see what the rhubarb is.

After a moment, the pilot flips the auto-pilot on and turns to see for himself, which is when the co-pilot turns back, his face dissolving, his lower jaw detaching itself from his face, his cheeks tearing. I have tried, since this aired, to shake that image, and I have found nothing that works.

Fringe! Words float on the screen, like "teleportation" and "dark matter" and "nanotechnology." These are the opening credits, not even long enough to accommodate a jaunty theme song. They're not quite as "minimalist" as Lost, but we'll see echoes of the Lost opening screen soon enough.

First, though, we're at some no-tell motel, and the sound of bouncing mattress springs lets us know what's going on. Inside one of the rooms, two ideal Aryan specimens are finishing up, with the woman smilingly saying they need to stop sneaking around like this, and he reminds her that the department is not a big fan of inter-office romance. She turns her back to him so they can spoon and says she thinks Charlie knows. "If he knew, then you would be transferred," he says, adding the idea that someone making a call as to whether they live in the same city is unacceptable to him.

By Daniel

"Anyway, this is all just preamble to the kicker," he says. This is his pillow talk. "Notwithstanding the activities forthwith concluded, I propose we endeavor to maintain the strictest of confidences." Actually, the kicker is "I love you." She looks touched, but she doesn't say it back, just kisses him instead.

On the nightstand on her side of the bed, her cellphone screen lights up and the phone shifts as it rings and vibrates. She answers it. "Olivia Dunham," she saya, and then starts getting dressed, all "yes sir" and "of course, sir." She hangs up. "Incident at Logan. International flight. Charlie's on his way." To the motel? She leans in, kisses her co-worker, and grabs her badge and leaves, just as his cellphone rings. "Agent Scott," he says.

We arrive at Logan Airport, in Boston, announced to us not in a nice tidy graphic in the corner of the screen, but by giant floating letters, like the Lost opening screen. Then again, I suppose the tidy graphic in the corner of the screen would make this give off even more of an X-Files vibe.

Olivia identifies herself at the gate and meets up with Charlie, played by Kirk Acevedo, who tells her it was a flight out of Hamburg, with 147 passengers. Towers lost contact about three hours in, and they thought it might have been electrical interference. Charlie and Olivia walk towards the plane, surrounded by barriers and emergency vehicles. Charlie says the plane entered U.S. air space in radio silence, so two fighter jets were scrambled to intercept it. The pilots reported stains on the windows. There are no signs of life on board the plane, which ... landed itself because the auto-pilot is extra-fancy on this plane, and Logan's one of the first airports to use the extra-fancy technology. Given how often airlines' electric check-in kiosks malfunction, the idea that they're attempting to automate something that's as life and death as actually landing a plane, makes my stomach flip-flop.

Agent Scott then pulls up in a black SUV, despite the fact Charlie and Olivia had to walk the last, like, half a kilometer. He's on his cellphone as he gets out. "Well, let me assure you: we'd be happy to treat you as family too!" he yells, angrily, as he gets out, then complains about the NTSB, who "all like to think they're cops." He greets "Agent Francis" and "Agent Dunham," successfully conveying an air of friendliness and not "I was just inside you moments ago." Charlie turns back to the plane. "Whatever McNeary saw through that window, it made him throw up in front of his whole unit," he says. Olivia stares apprehensively at the plane. McNeary did that? Well, now I don't know what to think.

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By Daniel

Meanwhile, a van pulls up at the airport gate. The driver, hidden in shadow, asks what happened. "Nothing you need to worry about, sir," says the guard, telling buddy to move along. As he leans out the window, we see it's the same guy who was on the plane. Or at least I see it now. I didn't notice it first time through, but that's because when he was on the plane, his face was all sweaty and strobe-lighted, and then it fell off.

The long lanky form of Lance Reddick, also know as The Wire's Lt. Daniels, strides across the tarmac to tell the assembled agency he's Special Agent Broyles, sent by Washington to, and I quote, "get results." That's a relief; I'm often left wondering if my superiors prefer results to no results. Broyles notes that while there are various agencies represented here, right now they're reporting to the Department of Homeland Security. He identifies a CIA agent and FBI agents Charlie Francis and John Scott as being on "the starting line," and tells everyone else to "stand by." Yeah, see if there are any results nearby that you can get.

You can imagine that our plucky heroine isn't interested in standing by, so she chases after Broyles to introduce herself as "inter-agency liaison" and he snarks that being a liaison on an inter-agency task force is like being powdered sugar on a glazed donut. She says that she prefers to get her information first-hand: "That's not redundancy; that's accountability." He stops walking, right in front of the jet's massive engines, which is a great place to have a conversation. "I know exactly who you are. You want in, liaison? Suit up." Well, that was easy. I imagine Olivia's a little concerned about the way he said "liaison," full of bile. Dammit, Olivia, he's too busy getting results to worry about your first-hand information.

The agents, in their Hazmat suits, make their way into the plane. It's full of smoke, and the bodies are nothing more than skeletons with translucent skin coverings. "What kind of terrorism is this?" asks John, or maybe Charlie, or maybe it's that CIA guy. "Who says it's terrorism?" says Olivia. The Department of Homeland Security. That's who, comrade. On the bright side, it looks like everyone's oxygen mask deployed properly.

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By Daniel

We don't linger there too long before heading back to "Federal Building Boston," in one of those rooms where everyone yells on phones and across the room at each other. Looks like they're checking the passenger list for anyone suspicious, like someone who maybe specifically requested a non-skin-dissolving meal so as not to attract attention. Olivia wants to know if anyone looked at security footage from the Hamburg airport, and Broyles is yelling something. Olivia is all "please tell me that terminal has been shut down" and Broyles says it's been shut down since 0400 local time. "Any more questions?" he asks, sarcastically. Olivia ignores the sarcasm to ask who the "point man" at the CDC is for the bone and tissue samples, and Broyles snidely asks if she wants his home number. Olivia says no, but she would like the whole report, and she bickers briefly with Broyles, who says it's not as if the rest of the team thinks what happened was a result of the in-flight movie. Olivia makes a face. And I have to say that while Broyles is being kind of a dick, it could have something to do with Olivia acting like she's, you know, IN CHARGE OF THE INVESTIGATION.

Then Charlie gets a tip about a security guard at a storage locker facility who remembers seeing "two Middle East men" handing a briefcase to a white guy. Broyles tells Olivia to look into it, and she turns up her nose. "You're telling me that's my assignment?" she says. "Yeah, honey. Would you mind?" says Broyles. Olivia stomps off.

So we drive up to U-Case Storage in Chelsea, Massachusetts. And even though this is supposed to be an obvious dead-end lead, and that's why Olivia's nose is out of joint, for some reason John has come along with her.

Even more confusing is that for some reason Olivia waited until they arrived to bitch about Broyles. She tells John that Broyles is pissed because his best friend sexually assaulted three marine privates (the privates' privates, I presume) and she put him away.

"Broyles is an idiot. You're smarter, you're stronger, you're much better looking. He's jealous," agrees John. And then the two of them, while they're supposed to be investigating, have a conversation about how he said "I love you" back at the motel and she didn't say it back, but she wanted to, and blah blah blah, and maybe you can have this conversation after YOU CATCH THE BAD GUYS, and yeah, I can't imagine why the bureau frowns on inter-office romance, and then they are kissing. "Let's go check the trash together," he says.

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By Daniel

So we get a fancy trunk-in-Pulp-Fiction Dumpster-opening shot, and right on top are a couple of empty tanks that held, by the smell of them, ammonia. So John heads off to the nearby row of lockers and starts picking the padlock. "What are you doing?" asks Olivia. "What are you doing? I'm a federal agent," he says, which is about all the argument she needs as far as circumventing the United States' constitution. After discovering a whole lot of crap like stacked boxes and an old beater, it's dark by the time they open a locker full of caged animals and equipment.

"We need to get a chem transport team out here now," says John as they realize that the animals aren't exactly prime examples of their species. Hairless rats, for example. Olivia can't get a signal inside the locker, so she heads outside and practically walks back to the parking lot, like WHERE ARE YOU GOING, and meanwhile John opens another locker to find more of the same. He's checking it out when someone in the row of units across opens a locker from the inside. It's the guy from the van in the airport. After he gets John's flashlight in his face, he bolts, ignoring John's warnings that he'll fire.

John, while chasing the subject, manages to call Olivia on his cellphone instead of just YELLING for her, and she's on her way. Just in time to be the caboose in the chase. She and John chase Buddy a little while more until Buddy calmly stops and starts pushing buttons on his cellphone. John stops far enough away that it would be something of a challenging shot for him if he actually does have to fire. But he doesn't get the opportunity, because Buddy sets off an explosion from the row of lockers, engulfing John in flame and sending Sarah flying backwards, up against another storage container, and she falls to the ground.

She slips out of consciousness, and then seems to fade in and out as she's wheeled into a hospital, blood streaming from a nasty gash on her head. Eventually she comes to, with her massive head wound only requiring a tiny little bandage. And she does what all people do when they wake up in the hospital: she yanks out her IV lines and her various hookups to hospital machinery and starts stomping around the hospital, eventually finding a doctor who tells her that John wasn't as lucky as she was because he was exposed to a compound of the chemicals that they found in the storage lockers.

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By Daniel

He's in an isolation unit -- the doctor tells her in a voiceover, as we watch Olivia, in scrubs, enter the unit -- even though he isn't contagious, because they don't want to introduce any new contaminants. Well, Olivia's flimsy little face mask should protect everyone, then. They have no idea what substance John's reacting to, and they've put him in a drug-induced coma so they can lower his body temperature and slow the spread.

We see John, his body all purple and black. He looks ... mouldy. Disgusting. Olivia does some eye acting underneath the facemask. A single tear rolls down her left cheek. Wow, look what mere SECONDS more exposure did to John whilst leaving Olivia completely untouched?

So Dunham joins Olivia Benson in the Law-Enforcement Olivias Who Take It Personal Department and gets to work searching FBI databases for info on dissolving skin, hardening skin. You can tell she's serious because she has glasses on and her Facebook status is set to "Olivia Dunham is searching for info on dissolving skin. Yick!"

All the articles she finds point her in the direction of Walter Bishop, and she goes hurtling up and down the stairs of Federal Building Boston, where the only person still actually working the case, despite a new major lead and an agent near death, is Broyles, who ignores Dunham, who is all, "Are you there, Broyles? It's me, Liaison."

She gets his attention with, "I found a connection between the Hamburg flight and what's happened to Agent Scott." She hands over the info on Dr. Walter Bishop -- born in '46, Harvard- Oxford- and MIT-educated. She tells him to look at the experiments Bishop was conducting in the '70s.

And man, all Broyles can do is point out that Bishop is currently in a mental hospital, which Dunham brushes off as a lab assistant being killed, and that there are rumors that Bishop was using human guinea pigs, and he was charged with manslaughter, but he was mentally unfit to stand trial. Yeah, who hasn't had that happen to them?

"Why are you so sure Bishop is worth our time?" says Broyles. "Why are you so sure he's not?" snaps Dunham. Well, Broyles didn't actually say that, Olivia, but since you asked, the whole manslaughter/mentally unfit/mental hospital thing would certainly give me pause.

But Broyles tries to say they got off on the wrong foot, with Olivia steamrolling him by suggesting that her past job as U.S. marines special investigator offends him, and he admits it does, and unfortunately chalks up his friend's behavior to "a small lapse in judgment," and Olivia haughtily snaps that the "lapse in judgment" will "haunt three women for the rest of their lives," and maybe you both could get back to finding out what the hell happened, especially given that you two seem to be the ONLY ONES still trying to find out what the hell happened.

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By Daniel

Broyles does get back to the matter at hand and points out that the terms of Bishop's incarceration include that he's allowed no visitors other than immediate family, which she's going to need since she doesn't have enough of a lead to go down to a mental hospital and wave the Patriot Act around. Olivia tries to make it personal again (nice) and Broyles orders her to find Bishop's of kin and get him to escort her. "Talk to Bishop. Get something substantial, and I will have your back. Until then, I am not so convinced." Olivia folds her arms and says Bishop has a son. "Is he local too?" "Not exactly."

By not exactly, Olivia means, "He's in Baghdad." And this time the floating letters are massive and blend in on Baghdad's rooftops as we fly in with some helicopters for the establishing shot. And, somewhat hilariously, we switch point-of-view to the ground and we're now looking around a giant floating B.

Dr. Bishop's son is Peter Bishop, a high school dropout misfit nomad with an IQ of 190. Can't hold a job, although he was briefly a chemistry professor at MIT because he falsified a degree and even managed to get a few papers published. Publish or perish, Olivia. That's just how it is.

We watch Joshua Jackson get out of a cab, pause, dramatically whip off his sunglasses, and then go into some hotel to wheel and deal with oil bigwigs. Peter talks a lot of blah-blah about how they need someone to oversee the construction of six-hundred miles of pipeline and he dazzles them by rattling off everything they'll need. It includes terms like "hydrodynamical" and "mixed-integer programs" and I have no idea if this is all bullshit. It's certainly not out of place on this show if it is.

Having secured a $600,000 contract, Peter jogs down the stairs to the hotel lobby, where he's pleased to see the pretty blonde lady approach him, not so pleased when she identifies herself as being from the FBI, and even less pleased when she tells him he can help them with Flight 627 (which he's heard about).

"Your father's Walter Bishop," she says. "The last time someone asked me that, it was an accusation," he responds, and he can't believe his father would be any help anyway. Plus, "I'd rather stay here in Iraq. That's how much I want to see my father." He moves to leave, so she actually uses the word "beg" and says his father may be able to help someone who's dying, "someone I care about very much." Peter thinks this over. "Sweetheart, we all care about someone who's dying," he says, and walks away again.

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By Daniel

"I know why you're here," she calls after him. He stops and turns back. "I have your file." "What file?" he says, half-laughing. "The one the FBI would say doesn't exist," she says, adding a few cryptic statements about what he's done, who he's running from, what he needs while he's in Baghdad (he looks nervously around the lobby), and she says that if he doesn't agree to come with her, she'll let "certain people" know his whereabouts. "When do we leave?" he says.

On the plane ride, Peter's got all kinds of questions about his father, whom he calls "self-absorbed" and "twisted" and "abusive" and "myopic," but he doesn't really know much about him other than that he was a chemist who worked out of a basement lab in Harvard doing research for a toothpaste company, and that there was an accident and his father was arrested, beginning the first truly "peaceful" period of his life. "My gut tells me that your friend's life, the one hanging in the balance, is not going to be saved by a tube of toothpaste," he says. Unless he gets full-blown gingivitis, anyway. Shit be lethal. Olivia gets all excited because FINALLY someone is asking her about all the Googling she did!

She says Walter Bishop worked on a classified U.S. Army experimental project called Kelvin Genetics, with unlimited resources, mostly in the area of fringe science.

"When you say 'fringe' science you mean pseudo-science," says Peter. "I suppose. Things like mind control. Teleportation. Astral projection. Invisibility. Genetic manipulation. Reanimation..." she says. Peter interrupts her to ask if his dad was Dr. Frankenstein. Olivia just looks at him, and the silence grows increasingly awkward. She never said he was successful at it.

Over the snowy roads of Essex County, Massachusetts, to St. Claire's Hospital. Guards lead Olivia and Peter through the locked doors and corridors of the nuthouse, with Peter finally having his fill of the swelling strings and tells Olivia to go on ahead. She looks at him all befuddled, which is a look she's nicely perfecting already.

The orderly takes Olivia into Walter Bishop's huge cell, where he's artfully slumped symmetrically between two windows. "Hello," she says. He slowly turns around. This is the kind of mental hospital where they don't shave the patients, just so that they're easier to identify (Crazy Beard = Crazy Man). "I knew someone would come. Eventually," he croaks.

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By Daniel

It's over to the immaculate mess hall for a little conversation about dissolving skin. He nervously wiggles his fingers (signifying: batshit!) while he asks about the timeline. She tells him the incident on the plane was four days ago, and Agent Scott was injured the day. He says it's not good that you can see through his skin, which Olivia doesn't really require a gifted-but-insane chemist to tell her. She asks if it can be reversed. He doesn't answer. He's got bigger worries on his mind, specifically the dreadful butterscotch pudding they serve here on Mondays. "It's Thursday," says Olivia. He lights up, while Olivia looks less convinced that this conversation is going to help John at all. Then: "It can be reversed, what happened to your colleague," he says, adding that this had happened to some lab animals he'd worked with, but they were saved. She asks if he remembers what to do.

Again, he doesn't answer. He has a hard time speaking, and mutters something about the hospital's "choice of therapies." "Dr. Bishop," she prompts. And he looks at her clearly. "You came here with my son," he says. He knows that he's only allowed visits with immediate family, which must mean his son is with her. "Unless the order's been lifted, it's a simple if/then formula: if you are here, then so must he." Walter says he'd very much like to see him.

So a gloomy Olivia clomps down the hallway to Peter. "He asked for you," she says. "Thanks, sweetheart. I really appreciate that," he says. I gotta say, he's not really pulling off the "sweetheart." Olivia snaps that she didn't tell Walter that Peter was here. "And call me 'sweetheart' one more time. I really appreciate that." Peter stomps by her up the hallway and into the cafeteria, pausing briefly when he sees his father.

"Hello, Walter," he says. "I thought you'd be fatter," says his father. Hee. Peter's less amused. "You thought I'd be fatter. Excellent. First words. Perfect." Walter protests that Peter was "round" as a boy, and Peter's all, yeah, until the summer before high school, not that you'd REMEMBER, only by this point Walter is now grabbing at his son's eyes to check his pupils, and shouldn't there be a guard stepping in right about now? But Walter's satisfied his son's pupils are good, and then says he needs a first-hand look at Agent Scott, but he can't leave unless signed out by a legal guardian, which, once again, has to be a family member.

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By Daniel

Peter's all NO WAY, and Olivia threatens a mysterious phone call again, and goes so far as to pull her phone out of her pocket, and Peter acquiesces. "You wanted my father. Now you've got my father, which falls under the category of 'be careful what you wish for.' Sweetheart." He stomps off.

Peter signs out his dad, who's chopping away at his beard in the bathroom. Maybe you could shave after you save John's life? Eventually, Walter's ready, and he steps forward, looking apprehensive, ready to rejoin the outside world.

Road trip! Woo! Olivia plays fun games like Grill the Nutcase, asking Walter if anyone else ever had access to his work. "My assistant had bits and pieces. God, I suppose." Other than that, the only person who really knew what he was doing was William. "William who?" asks Olivia. "Bell. William Bell. We shared a lab," says the doctor offhandedly, throwing both Olivia and Peter for a loop. "You shared your lab with the founder of Massive Dynamic," says Peter, but Walter doesn't know what Massive Dynamic is. "Nothing, really, just a tiny little company," say Peter sarcastically, lamenting that one of the lab partners became one of the wealthiest men in the world, while the other becomes an "institutionalized psychopath," like try being MORE of a dick to your father, Peter, first of all, and second, NICE RESEARCH, OLIVIA. I can't imagine how you compiled all this info on Walter Bishop but somehow missed that he used to work with this universe's Bill Gates. I mean, really. Oh, and then Walter pisses his pants. "Just a squirt," he says defensively. And then they pass by a billboard for, of course, Massive Dynamic. "What do we do? What don't we do," reads the slogan, juxtaposing a kid playing with a toy airplane, with a jet. Oh. So it's one of those companies with cryptic ads that are all "At Massive Dynamic, we don't make the television. We make a special type of glue for the laser welders used to put the components in the television" or whatever, which always makes me yell, "JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO BUY" at the television.

Back at the hospital, Charlie's just dropped in to see what condition John's condition is in, and Olivia says he's worse. "CDC says the Hamburg flight was caused by a synthetic compound, which is like saying rain is caused by a wet compound." Charlie wants to know what's up with Bishop.

"Left to right?" says Olivia, whatever that means, adding, "Insane. And irritating. And also my only hope." Isn't that the tagline for every Pauly Shore movie?

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By Daniel

Olivia leans in and asks if Charlie can set up an interview with William Bell. "Massive Dynamic William Bell?" He's surprised to learn Bishop and Bell shared a lab, and I think by this point the family of the victims on flight 627 can give up any hope of this idiot crew finding out what happened.

Olivia takes the Bishops in to see the awesomely creepy translucent body of John. He looks like a He-Man villain action figure! Walter, however, is more transfixed by the bright fluorescent light, staring at it until Olivia snaps him out of it. Another agent, a woman named Farnsworth, gives Peter a look, like it's Peter's fault his dad is a moth.

Walter takes John's medical chart, and asks for a ginger ale, because he hasn't had one in a long time. Olivia sends Farnsworth out for some. Meanwhile, Walter picks up a scalpel. Peter freaks out and grabs his dad's hands. "Does this not concern you?" he asks Olivia. Olivia tells Peter to let him go, and Peter does, reluctantly, while his dad jerks away.

Walter carefully scrapes off some of John's jellied skin (ick) and puts it in a container, and says they need to get it to his lab. Olivia and Peter point out that his lab was shut down after Walter left it, which makes Walter freak out and knock some shit over as he storms out of the isolation unit. "We need to get him back immediately," Peter tells Olivia, who looks befuddled, in a surprise move.

So it's time for a visit to Broyles. Olivia asks him to arrange access to Walter's lab in the basement of Harvard's Kresge building. "I'm sorry, what?" says an incredulous Broyles. He's rather dumbfounded -- AS AM I -- that Harvard's merely been using the lab for storage since Walter was sent off to the mental hospital.

Now it's Broyles' turn to make it personal; while he'd like to believe Olivia's tenacity in this case is a result of a "remarkable and robust professionalism," he actually thinks it's because Scott was poking her. "Get the lab for Bishop," snaps Olivia, who turns on her heel and stomps out of the room. I think that's a big fat yes, Broyles.

So the crew flips on the lights in Walter's old lab, and it's this huge cavernous room that Harvard hasn't had any use for? I mean, it's not even being used for storage. There's just dust covers over all of Walter's old equipment. "So much happened here," sighs Walter. He turns back to the Fringe bunch: "And so much is about to."

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By Daniel

Coming back from commercial, we now get the completely-unnecessary-except-for-morons-I-suppose "HARVARD UNIVERSITY" giant floating letters. Olivia tells Walter she's ordered a "standard forensics work package" and asks if there's anything else he needs, and he rattles off a laundry list of sciencey stuff, leaving Farnsworth scrambling for a damn piece of paper. Among the items he needs: a cow, with specific breeding, weight and body fat. Olivia's all, whuh? Peter explains that, genetically speaking, cows and humans are separated by only a couple of strands of DNA. My own empirical evidence from a recent trip to the amusement park suggests he's being generous. Anyway, that makes cows an ethical test subject somehow. Perhaps "acceptable substitute for humans, scientifically speaking" maybe, but I know many people who would take issue with Peter's "ethical" comment. Olivia snidely asks him if he learned that at MIT, and Peter weirdly says, "No, from reading books. You should try it sometime." I'm not sure I get the Olivia-is-anti-book crack. Maybe it's a plain ol' "you're stupid" crack. Given how Olivia stares at him for half an hour before telling Farnsworth to get Walter a cow, maybe he's onto something. Walter gleefully says the only thing better than a cow is a person. Unless you need milk, in which case you need a cow, he adds. He does know that humans produce milk too, right? I mean, he's a scientist. He's crazy, not stupid.

Then we get the "scientist at work" montage, with Walter making notes and looking at slides, and then there's some farmer bringing in a cow and instead of, oh, I don't know, bringing it in the rear entrance or wherever it was that all this massive equipment in the lab came in to the building, he naturally leads it right down a crammed hallway full of students, like thanks for bringing your big dirty manure-dropping powerfully kicking bovine right down the hallway, Farmer Bob.

Olivia chews her fingernails and reads something (probably looking for a replacement QB for her fantasy football team after Brady went down). Peter brings her some coffee and asks her what else is in her super-secret file that she has on him, and she says she's not at liberty to say. He thinks he deserves a little more info after all he's done, and she finally admits that there is no file. He can't believe she was bluffing. "I'm really good at reading people; that's sort of what I do," he says. He laments that he could have stayed in Iraq. Olivia points out that a car bomb went off in Kirkuk this morning, so he probably owes her a thank-you. Peter laughs. "Yeah, well, I owe a lot." Olivia guesses the Mafia, and Peter admits he owes a lot of money to a guy named Big Eddie and the two of them have a heartwarming conversation about how Peter had a great system to beat the casino but the house cheated, and maybe the two of them could think about doing something useful instead of flirting with each other.

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By Daniel

Later, Walter tells Olivia about a synthetic contagion worked on by the Pentagon for use against the Vietcong, and he thinks John's been exposed to the raw materials and not the finished contagion, which means he could synthesize a counter-agent. The only problem is he needs a precise inventory of what was in the storage locker.

No good, says Olivia, because John was the only one who saw it all before the storage locker went up in flames. She wants to know how long John has left. At the current "rate of crystallization," twenty-four hours. Olivia looks downcast, clearly not familiar, via Jack Bauer, with just how much can be done in twenty-four hours. "I'm so sorry that I can't offer you a less dangerous solution," he says, confusing Olivia. "Whatever you think you said, you didn't say," says Peter. So Walter starts in with the "synaptic transfer stimulation" and "shared dream state" and says the human mind gives off a quantifiable electric field. He posited way back in '76 that it's possible to synchronize the fields of two different minds and share information across the unconscious state, like a string between two tin cans. Well, here's hoping it works better than that. "You know, the great thing about that is that it's completely insane," says Peter. Olivia asks Walter if he means she can talk to John in his coma, and he can tell her what the suspect looks like.

"It's not an exact science," admits Walter. "It's not even science," yells Peter, playing Statler and Waldorf all wrapped up in one. Or Tom Servo and Crow. Or just the viewer. Walter says he used this technique to extract information from a corpse once. "You can do that if they haven't been dead for longer than six hours," explains Walter. "Right, because after six hours, that's when they're really dead," says Peter.

Walter says Olivia can access John's memories this way. Of course, she'll need an electro-magnetic probe implanted in the base of her skull whilst floating naked in the tank. "And you'd be heavily drugged," he says. Well, there's gotta be a down side she can't see, right?

Walter rattles off the drug cocktail Olivia would need to take (which includes LSD, which they'll have to make), and a skeptical Peter tries to make Olivia see how ridiculous it all is, by warning her that his father will kill her. Olivia considers it. "John would do it for me," she finally says. I don't see what John also being an idiot has to do with anything. "Excellent. Let's make some LSD," says Walter.

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By Daniel

Presumably very soon, given the tight time frame, an ambulance carries John's crystallizing body (still with full head of hair, I note -- some guys have all the luck) through Boston traffic to the lab of Dr. Moreau. What, they didn't wheel the gurney right down the hallway? Farnsworth is shoveling salt into the water tank. "Salt'll make you float," she tells Olivia. So would water wings, and I think that'd be less labor-intensive. I have to say, Farnsworth seems to be handling all this with rather good humor.

Charlie shows up to say William Bell is out of the country for two weeks, and Massive Dynamic isn't really being co-operative, as per their letter from general counsel. "So, what, he doesn't want to talk?" says Olivia. "Or he's being the head of a $50 billion corporation," snaps Charlie. What is he, Massive Dynamic PR? Lenny Briscoe would have kicked the boardroom door down himself.

The bad news is a court order's going to take at least forty-eight hours. As Walter, in passing, tells Olivia she can strip down to her underwear, Olivia whines that they don't have that kind of time. Which is why she's getting naked so a crazy former chemist can drug her, probe her, and connect her telepathically with her comatose boyfriend. Duh, Charlie.

Charlie actually has no idea what's going on around him, but asks Olivia if she's cleared it all with Broyles. "Somewhat," lies Olivia. "'Somewhat' doesn't sound good," he says. Just then, the cow moos. "Is that a cow?" he says. Ace perceptive skills on this guy. "Yeah, that's Jean," says Olivia, urging Charlie to do whatever he can. Charlie assures her he will, and tells her to be careful. Olivia says she will, even though being careful would entail NOT DOING THIS AT ALL.

So Olivia loses the robe and gives Peter an eyeful of her black bra-and-panties ensemble, and they kind of stare at each other uncomfortably. As he helps his dad put the electrodes all over Olivia's body, he says he still thinks this is irresponsible. But he couldn't pass up the chance to get close to Olivia's alabaster skin, I suppose.

Walter implants Olivia, who winces, with the little probe thingy, and she just about collapses. "I hope your guy is worth it," whispers Peter. They open the tank doors, and Walter takes the drug syringe. "And this will rip open your consciousness," he says. You know, I'd be a little more reassured if he spoke more like a doctor and less like the guy selling the brown acid at Woodstock. He jabs her, and Olivia starts to go slightly limp. The Bishops help her into the tank, and she floats, all fetchingly backlit.

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By Daniel

"In case you don't come back," says Walter (Peter glaring at him), "I just wanted to say before we do this, how much I appreciate everything you've done." He babbles on about how much you lose in a place like the mental hospital, like being trusted. "Strange how important that is once it's gone." Peter looks slightly chastened. At least, I think he does. It's hard to tell because it's an upside-down Olivia point-of-view shot. They close the doors. I was half-expecting Olivia to say "in case I don't come back...?"

So. Dr. Jekyll and his son stand around looking at computers. Walter encourages Farnsworth to come closer to watch what's happening, asking her if she "works here." Farnsworth is all, duh, I'm Agent Dunham's assistant. "Who?" he says. Farnsworth points at Olivia. Oh, yes, of course. Real reassuring, doc. He introduces himself, or at least he would if he could remember his own name (Peter helps him out).

Then he natters on about brain rhythms, which are "more important than most people realize," he says, "regarding cerebral-regional interaction. Critical." He's got me there. I am constantly denigrating the necessity of brain rhythms when it comes to cerebral-regional interaction. John is similarly hooked up, of course, and Bishop says the signals (being measured on a lie-detector-looking thing) will synchronize. Peter: "(sarcastic comment)." The three of them watch a computer monitor for the electrical pulses on John and Olivia to sync up.

So we watch a time-elapse montage of computer screens printouts ... it's fantastic all this stuff works so well after years and years of neglect. Suddenly Olivia jerks, and pulses get skittish. "What was that?" says Peter. Olivia's mind is flashing images of her, in a grey dress, in some kind of stark non-world ringed with heaps of old cars. I think Fox might just be recycling a set from The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Floating Olivia softly says, "Hello..." while dream-world Olivia shouts it, and then says, "I think I'm here. I'm here." Peter stares at the monitor that shows John's and Olivia's electric fields starting to sync up, like that is PROOF or something.

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By Daniel

In the coma-world, someone dashes behind Olivia's back. She spins around. "John?" she calls. There is a kayak floating in the air. "That's my uncle's kayak," she says. There is a dollhouse. And a cemetery. And then someone walks behind Olivia. "John?" she says again. And there he is, standing before her, in a suit. The brainwaves are synchronized. To tell you the truth, I'm kind of disappointed he's not just a giant floating head. And despite the barren land all around them, they're standing on a checkerboard floor with the FBI seal right in the middle. "I was just thinking about you," he says. And they start making out, like even in COMA-WORLD when John has MUCH LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS TO LIVE, they can barely keep their clothes on. The kissing makes the needles on the electrograph skitter. "What was that?" asks Peter. "Nothing," says Walter, who totally knows what's happening.

Eventually, the two of them stop kissing. Olivia tells John that he was hurt, and he says he doesn't remember. "The storage units," she says. "I feel cold," he says. She tells him she needs him to remember so he can show her the guy's face. "Why?" he says. "So I can save you," she whispers, and I can barely hear them. I don't think you're bothering anyone in coma-world if you speak up a little bit.

We watch the suspect chase at the storage locker facility from John's point of view, only we can't see Buddy's face, and she tells him so. More flashback, including a nice head and shoulders shot of Buddy, interspersed with a skeleton, just as Peter and Walter open the tank doors and pull Olivia out, just as she's starting to freak out.

She wakes with a jolt, saying she was there, she saw John get hurt. Which was actually already true, so I'm not sure why Peter makes a face like, "I guess the old man was right on this one." Or why Walter smiles slightly.

"What do you mean, you saw him?" This is Charlie talking, as Olivia's back at the federal building working with some facial reconstruction software. She says she told him not to ask her that. It takes her all of about two seconds to build the face, and the very first hair type she plops on the cranium makes her go, "This is him!" And literally less than fifteen seconds later, one of the other agents brings over a photograph of Buddy. "This is him," says Olivia, only it's a picture of one of the passengers on the plane. So it couldn't have been him, says Charlie. And just a few seconds after that, we have the information that passenger Morgan Steig's emergency contact is Richard Steig. "Are you telling me he has a twin?" says Olivia. It's worth noting that Olivia seems far more incredulous at the possibility of this guy having a twin than she was at the possibility of this guy being on the plane and at the storage locker facility. But there's more: Richard Steig's last employer is Massive Dynamic.

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By Daniel

So it's over to the very modern décor, all minimalist and white, of Massive Dynamic. No luck getting in to see William Bell, but Olivia and Charlie can talk to Nina Sharp, the executive director, who preemptively warns that she only has a couple of minutes.

Olivia explains that Steig may have used research from her company to develop a self-eradicating airborne virus. They don't know why or for whom, but it appears Steig was willing to sacrifice his own brother, since the virus got on board via the insulin pen. "So do you want to talk to me?" asks Olivia. Nina stares at Olivia for a few moments before asking her assistant to gather everything they have on Richard Steig.

Danielle goes to do so, and Nina sits down at her desk, which is a glass table set into giant huge white cubes, the only furnishings in a room the size of a college gymnasium. Nina says she remembers Richard Steig, who was caught trying to leave the premises with classified material. He was fired and his name turned over to the justice department. She also threatens Olivia with legal action if she drags Massive Dynamic's name through the mud.

Olivia asks how long she's worked for Dr. Bell. "Sixteen years," says Nina, adding that Massive Dynamic saved her life, literally. She tells a story about formerly being a runner and then feeling tired, and was ordered by Bell to see a doctor. It turned out to be cancer, you see, and the scanner that found the cancer was made by Massive Dynamic, as were the laser tools and drugs used during her surgery, and her high-tech robot arm that she had attached after her arm was amputated was designed by Dr. Bell himself. Oh, I should have mentioned that as she was telling this story, Nina was peeling off the skin of her left arm the way you would a dishwashing glove. And now she looks like a cyborg, which are part human and part half-assedly animated robot arm.

Danielle returns with the Steig file. "Do you believe that Steig may be part of the pattern?" Nina asks Olivia, who has no idea what Nina means. "Oh, I'm sorry. I assumed you had clearance," says Nina. "I'm cleared to know whatever you are, Ms. Sharp," says Olivia, and Nina merely says, "Apparently not." Nina ought to be a little less cavalier about the security clearance that she's so proud of and not babble about this classified information to any old person, huh? Then she spouts off about science and technology advancing to the point where it's impossible to regulate them. "You should know what you're getting into, Agent Dunham," she says. "I would say this to my own daughter: be careful, and good luck." Whatever that's supposed to mean. I imagine I say "be careful" more to my own daughter than to any other person on earth.

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By Daniel

Back at Fringe HQ, nobody is working since Olivia's not around to make frowny faces at them, so they're eating Chinese food and watching Spongebob Squarepants. Walter loves it. Peter answers the phone with "Nuthouse," and it's Olivia telling him she needs him and his father when they go after Steig so Walter can question Steig and make a vaccine. Peter says they'll meet her outside, and manages not to call her sweetheart.

So Olivia sets up with the rest of the FBI assault team outside Steig's apartment, because you know how she loves her first-hand knowledge and everything. The team goes in. There's no one in the place, but there's a rug with a corner sticking up at an odd angle, so Olivia lifts it up and finds a trap-door underneath, and underneath that, a little laboratory with computers and caged animals. It looks exactly like the setup in the storage locker. Perhaps he just sometimes felt like driving for hours?

Meanwhile, in the car, Peter is looking over the FBI file on Steig -- nice of Olivia to just leave it lying around like that -- while Walter frets about his son showing signs of hypertension.

"When this is over, please don't send me back," says Walter. "This experience -- you woke me up; you can't just put me back to sleep." Peter says none of this was his idea. Walter says that whatever punishment Peter thinks he deserves, he swears he's already endured it. Peter doesn't respond. But it's a good thing he's out in the car, because even with all the dozens of agents in this assault team, nobody is stationed by the BACK DOOR, and here comes Steig out the door and down the alley. Peter starts yelling, and chases after him, across streets, dodging traffic, and down steps. Olivia follows. Steig runs into an apartment building, and through units, and then up onto the rooftop, and leaping over onto the fire escape -- it's all very Bourne Ultimatum. Olivia hurtles from the rooftop onto the fire escape, and then down onto a Dumpster. She's doing all right for someone who was recently drugged and given a skull implant and mind-melded with her comatose brother. Hey, where's Peter? Oh, there he is -- pulling the ol' "I'm behind you and then somehow I just appear in front of you" routine, knocking Steig down and then pounding the ever-lovin' shit out of him. Olivia finally shows up -- good thing, since the rest of the FBI is nowhere in sight -- and you think she's going to pull Peter off Steig before Peter beats him to death. Instead she just sticks a gun in Steig's face and snarls, "We've got some questions." Question one: which Steven Seagal scriptwriter is handling this dialogue?

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By Daniel

So now we're back at the federal building and apparently everyone is content to let Olivia handle this on her own, because the only ones watching (via closed-circuit television) her interrogate Steig are, naturally, Peter and Walter. Well, Peter's watching. Walter's more entranced by the 21st-century coffeemaker. If the two of them are there to pay attention to what Steig's saying, then maybe Walter should be, you know, paying attention.

Olivia tries to act tough with Steig, who wants immunity. She tells him to write down the contents of the storage locker, and then they can talk about it. "I have nothing to say," says Steig.

Peter, having seen which door Olivia came out of and after watching Steig stare cockily into the camera, decides to stroll into the room and do some interrogating of his own, and by this point I think the FBI needs to consider suing the show's producers and maybe even Fox for the portrayal of absolute ineptitude. Peter threatens to extract the contaminated fluids from John's body and then give them to Steig. And then he smacks Steig in the hand with his coffee cup and Olivia comes running in to pull Peter off Steig, but Peter still manages to smack Steig hard again.

Guess that did the trick, because the Fantastic Fringe Four (feat. Farnsworth) are back at Walter's lab, and he and his son bicker about how to deliver the antidote, and then decide on intravenous blood transfusion, which won't overwhelm his body.

Another sciencey montage. Beakers! Test tubes! Burners! Keep in mind that this has all happened within the past twenty-four hours.

Olivia takes a break in the upstairs hall from all the montaging going on and strolls right past Broyles, who asks how things are going. She says Walter says it'll take a while, but things are "auspicious." Then she notices Broyles staring at her. "You've done some serious work here," he says, rattling off the list of everything she's done, omitting only "stopping time so you can actually get everything done." "We're impressed," he says. "Who's we?" she asks.

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By Daniel

He merely says that what happened on the plane might be more than simple terrorism. "'Simple' terrorism?" she says. He reaches into his briefcase for a file, and tells her in the past nine months there have been three-dozen authenticated incidents like the Hamburg flight, including:

John Thompson, a kid who went missing ten years ago, just turned up halfway around the world. Hadn't aged a day. What's more, almost fifty other kids who went missing that same year have the exact same story.

Fishermen in Sri Lanka report a low-flying airplane emitting a high-pitched frequency that blows out all their windows. An hour later, in the same spot, a massive earthquake triggers a tidal wave that kills 83,000 people.

But wait, there's more! A woman wakes from a coma and starts rattling off numbers that turn out to be real-time co-ordinates of their aircraft carriers in the Pacific, information that's classified "above top secret." He asks her to come work for him, and she reacts to a job offer by angrily stomping outside.

Broyles chases after her, saying that they're calling this "the pattern," because it looks like someone is experimenting, only using the whole world as a lab. I'm unclear how the word "pattern" arose as a result of that, but I suppose Broyles couldn't say, "they're calling this 'the pattern' because J.J. Abrams thinks it sounds cool and he has no idea what to do with it yet but he makes us shitloads of money."

He steamrolls her protests and says she can have whoever and whatever she wants to get her job done, and starts talking about all the people around them going about their daily business and having no idea what's going on. Well, it's not for a lack of government agents discussing it openly in public, that's for sure. Olivia says she wants to go back to before. "Dunham. I don't think you can," he says. She walks away, Broyles glaring after her. Dammit, Lance Reddick needs this! Don't fuck this up for Lance Reddick!

Another science montage. I think I've got the division of labor figured out: Olivia takes care of looking forlorn, Peter has the crossing-arms-and-brooding under control, and Walter does all the actual work. On his bed, John's skin is already looking better. It's just kind of veiny now. Suddenly he inhales, and Walter calls for Olivia, who's elated he's awake. "I had a dream about you," he says. Olivia laughs and they make goo-goo eyes at each other for three hours or so.

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By Daniel

After a quick chat with the doctor in which we learn that John should be able to leave the hospital in about a week, Olivia goes to visit Steig, who asks her if he didn't tell her everything she wanted. "Don't worry, our immunity agreement holds," she says. "There's still a whole lot we have to talk about, like why you killed your own brother and who you're selling your work to." Steig says he's not selling it; he was threatened by someone in Olivia's office, and the proof is hidden to his apartment building under a barrel.

Olivia finds a plastic bag with a microcassette in it, and goes back to her car for the recorder she has in her glove box. She does the magical only-on-television two-second rewind to the exact point she needs, and presses play.

"Who is this?"

"We had an exchange agreement."

"There have been other bidders. Today, the airplane was a demonstration."

"You've drawn unwanted attention, something we can't afford to be connected with. [Pause.] I'll make this simple: you're not selling to anyone else. You do that, we will come after you. I will come after you."

Olivia looks distraught. She recognizes the voice, and it's not hard to figure it out, even with the poor sound quality of the tape.

"You're threatening me? After seeing what I'm willing to do to my own brother?"

"Well, let me assure you we'd be happy to treat you as family too." And we flash back to when Olivia heard that the first time: when John said it when he got out of his SUV at the airport. Olivia scrabbles for her keys and starts the car.

Back at the hospital, John struggles to sit up in his hospital bed, and yanks his IV line. And, after dressing in the change of clothes Olivia brought earlier, shows his FBI badge to the guard outside Steig's room and then smothers Steig, who had been sleeping, with a pillow.

In the car, Olivia tells Charlie she needs two agents posted outside John's room, and someone to check on Steig. "I'm on it," says Charlie, who doesn't even ask what's going on. But he finds Steig murdered and yells, "We need this place locked down!"

But it's too late to catch John, who's pulling out of the parking lot just as Olivia gets in her car and runs up to the hospital doors. She radios for assistance and heads back to her car and chases him. Time to get their swerve on! There is much brake-squealing and U-turning and fender-bending among the poor unsuspecting Bostonians. Olivia manages to pull alongside John, and then he tries to knock her off the road. He's not that into you, Olivia. Eventually, John's the one whose vehicle goes airborne, and when he crawls out of the wreckage, he's covered in blood and gasping for air. He's dying. Olivia cradles him, and he croaks out, "Ask yourself, why ... why Broyles sent you to ... storage facility ... why you..." Olivia half-crying, asks him who he's working for. He doesn't answer. He won't answer any more questions. He's dead. Uh, Olivia, you've got six hours to get Walter over here to ask John some questions, right?

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By Daniel

Well, six hours is about how long it seems her montage o' grief lasts, as she sits in the back of an ambulance and cries. Later, Charlie drives her somewhere, and says he's sorry. "The job isn't what it was ten years ago. We're supposed to protect a world where one breath of the wrong air can incinerate you from the inside out," he says. And what thanks do you get? Schlubs wearing T-shirts that say "Federal Breast Inspector." He wants to know how they're supposed to protect people when corporations have higher security clearances than they do, and when they're not fully briefed on half the things they're investigating. "You know, when, the truth ... the truth is ... we're obsolete." Not out there? Olivia finally speaks, after simply staring out the window. "Take me back to the lab," she says.

Walter and Peter are just on their way, and Olivia takes Peter aside to stammer out that she needs Walter, and therefore Peter has to be here too, and Walter isn't the monster Peter thinks he is, and blah blah blah. "I'm not going to use false threats anymore. The threats are real," she says.

Peter says that after she left, her dad was talking about some of the work he'd done with William Bell, and how what happened on the plane is only going to be the beginning. Which kinda makes him want to get the hell out of Boston. "Are we leaving?" calls over his father. He repeats it. Peter looks back at his father, then back at Olivia, and half-smiles. She smiles back.

Elsewhere, an attendant in white wheels a gurney down a corridor. He's stopped by someone who pulls the sheet back on the body. The corpse is John Scott. The woman is Nina Sharp, who asks the attendant how long he's been dead. "Five hours," says the guy. She waits a beat. "Question him," she says. The attendant puts his palm print on an ID screen that opens a door into some high tech lab, while the camera zooms in on a digital blue leaf, revolving on the screen. Somewhat surprisingly, it's not a pot leaf.

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