All language subtitles for Fringe.S02E05.720p.HDTV.x264-SiTV

Olivia Dunham.
Charlie Francis. FBI.

ANNOUNCER:
Previously on Fringe...

Unh!

BROYLES:
You had no choice.

Whatever that thing was,
it wasn't Charlie.

NINA: You've been through
quite an ordeal.

What's this?

Sam Weiss--the man who helped
put me back together.

You can take the shoes
off now, we're done.

- I just got here.
- Come back tomorrow.

By then, I'll have found you
the perfect bowling ball.

I was told that
you could fix me.

Take care, Agent Dunham.

[pop music playing faintly
on jukebox]

We're closed.

I think I owe you
a thank you.

I got my memories back
from the accident,

so...

I figured I wouldn't be
needing these.

Who died?

You and your partner,
Charlie,

were pretty close, huh?

Yeah.

I guess getting
your memory back

wasn't your only problem.

Oh, of course
I have problems, but...

The problems I have
I can handle.

Sure you can.

You know,
if you ask me,

what you need right now,
Agent Dunham,

is something to help you

with everything
you've been going through...

Something to help you...

make sense of it all.

Like bowling.

Well, what do you know?
She makes a joke.

No, I got
another project for you.

Uh, yes, like bowling.

You're gonna think
I'm full of it,

but here's
the thing, Olivia...

Whether you admit it
or not,

your life is something
of a nightmare.

I hope you don't have anything
against the color red.

[elevator bell dings]

[distant phones ringing]

Jeez, Greg. Carl's really
pissed off at you.

What, uh--
what'd you do, man?

- You better get in there.
- I'm going.

[distorted voices]

Finally.
We've been waiting.

Are you okay?

Whatever happened, make sure
we all go away.

You know how much
trouble you caused me.

I am going
to destroy you!

What the hell?

[grunting]

Greg, are you crazy?

[grunting]

"Dream Logic"

You can bring that
in here, please.

Hang on.

Walter,
what are you doing?

Making my bed.

I've got a fireplace
to keep me warm,

and if I get hungry
in the middle of the night,

the kitchen is only
13 steps away,

which is a prime number

and a sign
of good fortune.

You know that
you have a bedroom, right?

Upstairs.

Oh, I know
what you're thinking.

Don't worry, son.

I promise to wear
my shorts to bed

so that if you bring
any young ladies home,

there won't be
any embarrassing moments.

Knock, knock.

Agent Farnsworth.

Welcome to our new home.

Thank you.

Oh.
Oh, housewarming.

I love presents.

Hey.

- Oh.
- Walter, come on.

Italian ciabatta bread.

- Very impressive, Walter.
- Yes!

It's for good luck.

I brought something
for you too.

Oh, you shouldn't have.

Agent Dunham
sent this over.

A man kills his boss,
he doesn't remember,

and then he has this really
crazy thing with his eyes.

This says there's
video surveillance.

I saw it.

Whatever was happening
to that man,

it wasn't normal.

Do I eat it or keep it?

I suppose
whichever you'd like.

Pack a bag, Walter.

We're going to Seattle.

PETER:
Thank you.

There you go.

Do you have a card?

In case we need a ride
while we're in town.

Thank you.

MAN:
Thanks for coming out.

We brought Mr. Leader here
around 6:00 last night.

We haven't managed to get
anything out of him.

He hasn't been
cooperative?

He hasn't been
responsive.

We only just managed
to wake him up.

Wait.

He's been asleep
for 16 hours?

Like he
was drugged.

The doctors only managed to wake
him up a few minutes ago.

[ominous music]

Peter, I-I don't want
to go in there.

I'd rather
stay out here.

Sure.

OLIVIA: Can you tell us
what happened, Mr. Leader?

It doesn't make sense.

I remember driving
to work from lunch,

pulling into the garage,

and then I was on the floor
in Carl Langdon's office.

They were
holding me down.

And there's nothing else

that you remember
from yesterday?

Nothing unusual?

You're gonna think
I'm crazy.

Try me.

The office...

It was like the office

was infiltrated
by these creatures.

And Carl,
he was their leader.

He had horns...

like some demon.

I know.
It sounds nuts.

Almost like
I'm dreaming,

or like it was...

[breathing heavily]

Mr. Leader?

- Mr. Leader?
- Walter!

What is it?

WOMAN: Greg!

MAN: You can't go
in the room, Mrs. Leader.

What's happening to him?

- Greg!
- Mrs. Leader. Please!

Oh, my God!
Oh, my God!

No, Greg!

No! No!

WALTER: That's odd.

Warm.

He should be cooler
by now.

The oven--

Peter, I think we forgot
to turn it off at home.

Walter, we've never
even turned it on.

You sure?

Walter, we never
turned the oven on.

We did not leave
the front door unlocked,

and the toaster is not
gonna burn the house down.

What's going on
with you, Walter?

You've been acting weird
ever since we got here.

Apologies, we're still waiting
on the tox screen.

But the blood CBC
is, uh--

Severe thyroxine deficit,

curiously high levels
of adrenal hormones.

How did you know that?

Shock-induced
achromotrichia,

hyperkeratotic
skin lesions,

and clear signs
of dehydration.

It seems that this man
died of--

Of acute exhaustion.

That doesn't make
any sense.

- Human beings can't die of--
- Not that we're aware of, no.

It has been documented
in rats.

I need this body
taken back to my lab.

Your lab?

- In Boston, Massachusetts.
- Walter, whatever you need,

I'm sure
they have it here.

Would you excuse me,
Doctor?

Peter,
I-I need to go home.

I don't like it here.

- Walter.
- This city has a smell.

- Walter.
- It's wet!

It reminds me
of St. Claire's,

the mental institution
where I lived.

Peter,
I want to go home.

You stay.
Help Agent Dunham, but--

Okay.

We'll find someone
to take you home.

Thank you.

Seems pretty harmless.

Looks can be deceiving.

Buddy, I've been with
the bureau for three years.

Flying your father home
shouldn't be a problem.

Right.

You'll want to keep
his Sudoku pad handy.

There's also a copy

of Max Planck's book on entropy
in his backpack.

That should keep him busy
for a couple hours.

And whatever you do, under
no circumstances let him drink.

Bit of a tippler, huh?

No, at any given time,
there's a good chance

there's about a half dozen
psychotropic drugs

in his system, so drinking--
It's not a good idea.

Thank you, Doctor.

You know, I really
appreciate your cooperation.

Yeah, no problem.

Do you have
a business card?

So that I-I can send you
a copy of the results.

Uh, of course.

Thank you.

[Walter groaning]

No!

You can't put the body
in feet first.

Lunatics.
Out, out.

You think he'll be
all right?

Walter,
or Agent Cashner?

MRS LEADER: Greg used to call me
every day after lunch.

When he didn't call,
I knew something was wrong.

But there'd...

There'd been no change
in his behavior recently?

He was a little more tired
than usual,

but he'd been
working a lot.

But no illnesses?

No hallucinations?

No, not at all.

I can't believe
he's gone.

Mrs. Leader...

Did your husband
have any sleep issues?

These books--
Guide to Sleep Disorders,

Understanding Sleep...

He used to sleepwalk.

Sometimes he'd wake up
in the kitchen

having cooked a whole meal.

Was he ever violent?

No, never.

And he was cured.

He had seen
a few specialists.

He hadn't had an episode
in six months.

Uh, we'll need the names
of those doctors.

And did he by any chance
keep a sleep journal?

Yeah.
Would you like to see it?

Yes. Please.

WALTER:
Just in time, dear.

Help me with this
infernal body bag.

This is
Agent Cashner.

Walter,
it's almost midnight.

Yes, I'll hold.

The ride back
was invigorating.

The turbulence over Ohio

was like being in the belly
of a seizing whale.

I screamed
like a little girl.

I'm sure
that went over well

with the rest
of the passengers.

No, it's Bishop.

B-I-S-H-O-P.

Yes, we got the body.

What's that about?

They detained our bags.

Raw milk?

No, I'm pretty sure

Dr. Bishop wouldn't have packed
a bottle of raw--

[moos]

Milk.

Yes, I understand
it's against the law.

I'm a federal agent.

That's odd--
nine stitches...

Surgical.

There's no reason
for an incision there.

Astricks,

my small bone saw,
please.

Astrid.

Yes?

Dr. Bishop,
I-I'm sorry,

but, uh, those bags
won't be available to us

until morning.

That's okay.

In fact, you can assist us
in removing his scalp.

Once you get used to the smell,
it's really quite something.

Come on.

- Hey.
- Hey.

I didn't wake you,
did I?

What?

Cute.

Except in my case,
I actually graduated.

I'm guessing,
uh, you bought yours

to impress the girls.

Yeah, more or less.

So what you got?

Greg Leader's sleep journal.

His wife was right.

For the last couple months,
he's been averaging

between eight and ten hours
of sleep every night.

Then how can he die
of exhaustion?

It gets weirder.

He was also using it
as a dream diary.

Guess what his
nightmares were about.

Demons?

Yeah.
At least once a week.

Then a couple months ago,
all of a sudden, they stop.

So do you think this is some kind
of extreme sleepwalking?

No, sleepwalkers
don't generally get violent.

And unlike Greg Leader,

they don't remember
their experiences.

Where'd you learn that?
M.I.T.?

As a kid, I used to get
these terrible nightmares,

almost every night.

So I know a thing or two
about dreaming.

I'm sorry.
That must have been awful.

Actually, it was one
of the rare occasions

in my childhood
that Walter was helpful.

He taught me
to condition myself.

Every night
before I went to sleep,

I had to say
a mantra in my head.

"Please don't dream tonight.
Please don't dream tonight.

Please don't dream tonight."

Did that work?

Well, you can't stop yourself
from dreaming,

but it did make it
so that I didn't remember.

From the age
of 8 to almost 19,

don't remember
a single dream.

No more nightmares.

[cell phone rings]

There's been
another incident.

MAN: Guy on the bike
was dead on impact.

Must have been driving
40 miles per hour

- which killed him.
- Crash-killed her, too?

She's dead
but it wasn't the crash.

MAN: Ellen was calling
to let me know

she was heading home
from the office.

We were on the phone
when she...

She said
she saw a monster.

Did--did you see
her white hair?

What happened to her?

Hold it steady,
Agent Casper.

It's Cashner.

Do this kind
of thing often?

Brains? No.

Although Walter
gets particularly excited

whenever we do.

Hmm.

Look at that.

Would you call Peter?

Ugh. I'm out.

Hey, I've got Walter
for you.

PETER: A filament?
What kind of filament?

Hold on a second, fellas.
Mind if I take a look at her?

Some kind
of little computer chip

imbedded in his midbrain.

The thalamus?

Yes, that would make sense.
Well done, son.

Hold up, Walter.
Agent Dunham!

Excuse me.

What does that do--
the thalamus?

Why is it relevant?

It's the part of the brain
that regulates sleep.

What are you looking for?

That.

BROYLES: Both the victims
had been surgically implanted.

It's a bio-chip.

Technically a brain-computer
interface, or BCI.

This particular chip

has a transmitter,
which makes it wireless.

So it can commit the brain
to a remote computer?

That's right.

From what
we can ascertain,

we think it works
a lot like a pacemaker.

It monitors sleep cycles

and, when necessary,
stimulates the thalamus,

which induces
a deeper sleep state.

There is a researcher
in Seattle

who has worked on
several prototypes like it.

The man's a genius.

We've been tracking him
for years.

Thank you.

I'll let the team know.

Dr. Laxmeesh Nayak?

I'm Olivia Dunham.
I'm with the FBI.

We were wondering if you
were familiar with Greg Leader

and Ellen Rosiello.

Yes, they're patients.

What's this about?

Both of them recently
committed homicidal attacks

and then died,

as a result of what appears
to be extreme exhaustion.

Oh, God.

Dr. Nayak,
we found a bio-chip

imbedded
in Mr. Leader's brain.

- Do you know--
- Yes. Yes, of course.

They both had them.
They were part of a study.

So you've implanted those chips
into other people?

It's a large-scale,
clinical trial.

There are 60
in the control group

and 82
with the bio-chips.

We're gonna need
their names,

all of them.

I've been working
on this chip for years.

I've tested it extensively.

PETER:
And there's no malfunction

that could have caused
the kind of reaction we saw?

What if
the chip shorted out?

Even if it had, the chip
should have remained benign.

Why is this...?

[ominous music]

Wait here.

The main computer server.

It contained all my research--
the patients' files.

It's all gone.

The patients' files

are backed up
on a remote server.

I'll give you
the password.

Dr. Nayak.

My research assistant.

Zach, call the nurses.

We need the names
of all the patients.

Everyone
they can remember.

Sure.
Uh, I-I'll get right on it.

The password.

Thank you.

Dr. Nayak,
can you think of anyone

who would want to steal
your data

or might
want to sabotage you?

I-I don't know.

I-I suppose there are
any number of companies.

The chip was valuable?

Oh, the initial testing
has been remarkable.

It's cured sleepwalking,
night terrors...

All major non-REM
sleep disorders.

These people
just wanted some rest,

and my chip
was helping them.

It wouldn't make them
hurt anyone,

and it certainly
wouldn't kill them.

It just doesn't make
any sense.

Dr. Nayak, do you have
a business card?

Just for our records.

I'll get you one.

Well, the doctor
is beside himself.

And aside from the obvious,
which is money,

he can't think
of any reason

why someone would want
to steal his research.

I can.

The bio-chip plugs directly
into the thalamus,

which not only
regulates sleep,

it also works
as a relay tower

to the cerebral cortex,

which also controls
motor function.

WALTER:
Mind control, Peter.

Wouldn't be the first time
someone's attempted it.

I told you
about my work

with the MK-ultra project.

Of course, at that time,
we supposed we could do it

with LSD
and hypnotic suggestion.

So it is possible?

Theoretically, yes.

If I faxed you a schematic

of the device's
internal architecture,

could you test
the chip you have?

Yes, but I'd need to replicate
the chip's function

in a neutral environment.

Of course, I-if I had
a live subject...

Walter, no.

No student volunteers.

Good news:
The bags are back.

Walter. Walter.

Walter, say it--
"No students."

All right,
no students.

[phone beeps]

OLIVIA: Okay, well, get back
to me as soon as you can.

Hey.

Hey.

So, uh,
did you reach Walter?

Yeah.

He thinks it could be
mind control,

but modifying the bio-chips

would take a lot
of trial and error.

So he thinks
that someone's

trying to perfect
mind control

one patient at a time?

Well, that would explain
why the events

are seemingly
without motive.

Yeah.

How's the patient
roundup going?

Nayak could only list
26 patients.

So the local P.D. are taking
them into his clinic

and removing their chips,

so to speak.

That still leaves, what?

50-odd patients.

Listen...

Olivia,
I think I understand

what it is
that you're going through, but...

that thing
that you killed...

That wasn't Charlie.

I know.

It's just, I--

You know,
my first week on the job,

I was on
a sting operation.

These Irish thugs

were smuggling guns
and--and cocaine.

And I had been
a military prosecutor,

so I hadn't handled
a gun

since basic training.

And suddenly,

I'm underground
in this garage,

wearing
a bulletproof vest

and--and wondering
how the hell I got there.

So I did what
any rookie would do,

and I started looking
for an exit.

And then Charlie
walks over.

This man
that I didn't know--

This gruff guy.

And...

He said...

"You're gonna be fine."

And, um,
I have to face it...

That he...

He's gone...

And that
he's not coming back.

So I'm just gonna go

to Nayak's clinic

and--and see if
I can help the nurse

identify
some other patients.

[door opens]

- Okay.
- [door closes]

[computer whirring]

That was a double order
on table nine, pop.

So what'd your friends
think of my moussaka?

Like they'd died
and gone to Heaven.

Damn right.

Do you really want
to increase the dose?

[ominous music]

[whistling]

[door opens and closes]

Dr. Bishop, I'm heading
to the airport,

back to Seattle.

Would you say good-bye

to Agent Farnsworth
for me?

Certainly.

Oh, before you go,
could you do me a favor

and smell this?

It seems my olfactory sense
is a bit muddled.

Must be the French roast coffee
I had for breakfast.

[sniffs]

Raspberry?

Keep Miss Barage sedated
for another ten minutes.

Then bring in
my next patient.

MAN:
What's going on here?

MAN: I understand
you're all upset.

We should contact
the local pharmacies too.

They should be able
to identify

- who's filled a prescription
- [cell phone rings]

within the last six months
from Dr. Nayak.

Excuse me.
Hello?

What's shakin', Bacon?

Oh, the usual--I'm just
painting my toenails

and planning on taking
a trip up the coast.

You get
the business cards?

Uh, yeah.

I got, uh--
I got eight of them.

Eight? You asked everyone
you saw wearing red?

Yeah.

So what do I do now?

Lay them out in front of you
like you're playing Go Fish.

Now take a pen, circle one letter
in every name,

both first and last.

When you're finished,

take all the letters
you've circled

and write them down
on a piece of paper.

Got it?

Okay.

Now what?

Now jumble.

Jumble?

Jumble, anagram,
word puzzle.

Find the phrase.

What phrase?

What--what am I
looking for?

Whatever it is
you need to hear.

You'll figure it out.
Got to go.

[cell phone rings]

You know, I really don't have
any time for this.

BROYLES: Dunham.

Agent Broyles?

Nayak's patient files
are gone.

The server
at the data-storage facility

was wiped some time
within the last 24 hours.

Can we trace
the hacker's I.P. address?

We don't think
there was one.

There's no sign
of a D.D.O.S. attack,

and given the level of online
security in the facility,

we think whoever
wiped the files

must have
had a password.

So it was someone
in the clinic?

It would seem that way.

It's not possible.

My employees
are good people.

They've all
worked here for years.

We're a family.

But they all
had the password?

There was no reason
for them not to.

I'm telling you...

none of them
would have done this.

PETER:
Agent Dunham.

Another one.

MAN: Her eyes
were going crazy.

Her hair turned white,
then she collapsed.

I don't understand.

She screamed
we were cannibals

and then attacked
with a knife.

I had to wrestle it
away from her.

She--she was so happy.

[crying]
This doesn't make sense.

[crying]

NAYAK: Leanne suffered
from night terrors.

She was just
in my office last week.

We're gonna have to make
a public announcement.

I'm gonna get
our media liaison

to put an announcement
on the local news.

Zach Miller,
my lab assistant...

skipped work today.

He hasn't been answering
his phone.

Zach Miller?
FBI.

Olivia.

I guess that's why he wasn't
answering the phone.

Walter, what's wrong
with Agent Cashner?

I drugged him.

You drugged him?

Walter...

Don't tell me you put
that chip in his head.

No, but I wanted to.

Then I realized
that I could attach the chip

to an E.E.G. net,

and the signal
would reach his brain.

And how are you going
to send him commands?

I have wired
the neurostimulator

to the same frequency.

If Peter's theory
is correct

and this is
mind control,

then the chip should receive
commands from here,

through the neurostimulator.
It's then translated

into impulses
that Agent Cashner's brain

can understand.

I need help
putting this on.

Walter, I do not think
this is a very good idea.

Don't be such a grinch.

I've told you,
science should be fun.

Come on.

WALTER:
Look at his feet.

ASTRID:
Feet. Got it.

Anything?

Nope.

[sighs,
breathes heavy]

Walter, what is it?

[groans]

Either a green unicorn
just raced across the lab,

or I accidentally
took some LSD.

Oh, it must be mescaline.

It's peaking
too quickly.

Oh. Oh, God.

That's not mescaline.

It's something else
entirely.

I think it's not
the drugs at all.

I think I have an idea
what it is.

And you've never gotten
anything like this before?

No, of course not.

Okay, I'm gonna send
a copy of this

to our
question documents unit.

They'll analyze
the handwriting,

the paper, and the ink.

But in the meantime,
the police have offered to put

a protective detail
outside your clinic,

and Detective Green
will watch your house.

Now, if you'll excuse us,

we're gonna try and track down
the rest of your patients.

Don't worry, Dr. Nayak.

We're gonna catch
this guy.

Then you can
get back to your work.

We'll call you as soon
as we know something.

[static]

AUTOMATED VOICE:
Please leave a message

after the tone.

I told them.

I showed them
your damn note.

So you might
as well stop.

PETER:
So it's not mind control?

WALTER: No, Peter,
your theory is wrong.

Dr. Nayak's chips
aren't receiving commands.

They're transmitting
massive amounts of data.

Walter, the bio-chips
are supposed to transmit data.

That's their function,
to monitor sleep cycles.

The chips aren't simply
monitoring sleep.

They're accessing
all the sensory information

that--that passes
through the thalamus--

Every color, sound,

and picture
while we sleep.

Walter, are you saying
that Dr. Nayak's bio-chips

are stealing dreams?

That's right, dear.

Leader's sleep journal.

He slept for hours,
but he never had any dreams.

Before they reached
his consciousness,

they were
all siphoned off,

which means no dreams.

The brain can never recharge,
and that...

Would lead
to death by exhaustion.

Exactly.

What's more,

I believe the chips
have the ability

to turn on a dreaming state
while the patient is awake,

which would lead
to paranoia, hallucinations,

and a complete inability

to differentiate
between reality and dreams--

The very behavior
we've been witnessing.

Walter, why would anybody

want to access
another person's dreams?

The rush, Peter.

Think of your
most pleasant dream,

multiply that feeling
tenfold,

all mainlining
through your cortex

in a few seconds.

It's really quite something.

Walter, are you saying that
we're dealing with an addict?

Not just an addict,
dear.

A man who came in contact
with this drug--

In my estimation,

that man would become
its slave.

We got to go back
to the hotel.

What are you thinking?

Walter thinks we're looking
for an addict, right?

Well, my stepfather
was an addict.

He was a drunk.

And it was like he had
two different personalities--

One when he was sober
and one when he was smashed.

The deeper the addiction,
the more extreme the rift,

like, uh,
Jekyll and Hyde.

So this is the patient list
that Dr. Nayak wrote out,

and here is the death threat
he received.

The handwriting's sloped.

Look at the "G"s
and the "F"s.

These are written
by the same person.

Thank you,
Detective Green.

[machine beeps]

You have one message.

NAYAK:
I told them.

I showed them
your damn note.

So you might as well stop.

Please.

[computers hum to life]

[computers whirring]

Water rudder set.

Thanks, hon.

[computers beeping]

[plane engines whirring]

[air traffic controller chattering]

Jack,
what are you doing?

Jack.

Jack.

Jack, what are you doing?

Jack, we have got to get

this bird in the air.

Jack! November 822,
pilot in distress!

Jack!

OLIVIA:
Peter, he's plugged in.

PETER: Let me try
to shut down the program.

November 822 to ATC,

I've got a problem!

PETER:
I'm gonna have to try

to disable the server.

Can you shut it down?

I think it's locked.

Jack!

November 822,
squawking 7700!

Okay, stand back.

Whoa.

[gunshots]

Jack! Jack!

Jack.

He's dead.

Hey.

Got a call from, uh,
radio control at Lake Union--

Incident with a seaplane pilot,
one of Nayak's patients.

They're all safe.

Good work.

I checked out
Nayak's control panel.

All the dials were cranked up
into the red.

You think
he decided to go down

in one final blaze
of glory?

Actually, I think it was a lot
more complicated than that.

You remember
how horrified Nayak was

when we told him
his patients were dying?

I don't think
that he was fully aware

of what his darker side
was up to...

Until tonight.

So this was his way of trying
to put a stop to things.

I guess
that's the irony.

His addiction to dreams
became his nightmare,

one that he couldn't
wake up from.

Maybe that was his only way
of ending the nightmare.

[door opens, creaking]

Dad, what's wrong?

[gasps, screams]

What is it?

Nothing.

You were talking
in your sleep.

Yeah, I think I was having
a bad dream.

[chuckles]

I was a kid,

in my room.

You were there.

And the rest?

You don't remember it?

Mm-mm.

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