All language subtitles for Fringe S04E21 - Brave New World Part 1

There is an alternate universe...

...and in it, another version of us.

We know who our enemy is now.

His name is David Robert Jones.
He's a scientist.

Jones is responsible for dosing
Agent Dunham with Cortexiphan.

- For what purpose?
- He was trying to activate some ability.

- What are you doing, Olivia?
- I'm turning on the lights.

I have discovered
David Robert Jones' true intentions.

Jones is trying
to collapse both universes.

Mutual destruction.

To create a world designed
and controlled by him.

- Any way to stop Jones?
- I'm afraid we have to close the bridge.

I think I shall miss them.

Hi, Neal.

- Cafe mocha, 1 percent, no whip?
- That's it.

Jill, can you get that started?
That'll be $4.80.

Enjoy.

Are you okay?

You okay?

What's happening to them?

Don't move.

I think when they move...

...they die.

Nobody move.

Medford?

No.

Holliston?

Uh, only if I am being punished.

Wayburn.

Only if I'm dead.

All right. How about Lexington?

Three beds. Central heat and air.
Dog run.

Did you know that I had a lab
when I growing up?

I thought you were allergic.

I was,
but Walter made him non-allergenic.

It's got a working fireplace
in the bedroom.

Nursery?

Nursery?

Nursery.

What's he doing?

No!

Over by the second woman.

The one that's still smoking.

- No, you ninny. The next one over.
- Walter.

You are going to freeze. God.

Why must you always mother-hen me?

I'm quite capable of looking after myself.

I know, but just humor me.

Maybe I like doing it.

We're good. No airborne toxins.

- Thank you.
- Walter.

- Don't forget your... Yeah.
- I'll need my kit.

Please, do something.

Help us.

Maybe the deaths are associated
with this mobile transaction.

No, Walter, this is just
how people pay for things now.

Hmm?

He probably just bought that coffee.

Huh. What will they think of next?

All we know so far, at 3:23 p.m.,
more than two dozen people...

...experienced some kind
of spontaneous human combustion.

You know that's a myth, right?

There are survivors.

Remaining still seems to have halted
the ignition process for now.

Do we have any idea what's caused this?

I'm hoping Dr. Bishop
can help shed some light on that.

Okay, my friend.

Let's see what secrets you hold.

I had a watch similar to this once.

My uncle gave it to me. Uncle Heinrich.

He loved rhubarb. Ha, ha.

- He was always...
- Am I gonna die?

I can't answer that. Not yet.

What are you?

I'm human. What are you?

Is this some sort of alien invasion?

- Are you part of a strike...?
- No, I mean, what are you doing here?

Are you a doctor?

Oh, no. I'm a scientist.

Oh.

May I take a blood sample?

The discomfort will only be momentary.

That's what all you men say.

You're very brave.

Go on, then.

I'm sorry.

Um, where did you get this smudging
on your fingertips?

I don't know.

The escalator maybe.

Her blood definitely shows signs of
a foreign incursion at the cellular level.

Viral?

We're gonna have to get it back
to the lab to be sure.

What sort of virus are you?

If you were aerolized you would have
infected everyone...

...not just those on the escalator.

If you were harbored on a water tap
or a doorknob...

...the first few contacts
would have wiped you clean.

What would have kept you fresh
and so infectious, my lethal friend?

Agent, I think we found something.

Oh, dear.

This is not a virus at all.

Well, then what is it?

- The escalator is infested with nanites.
- Nanites?

Microscopic self-replicating robotics.
There's a machine generating them.

Despite their size, each is capable of
storing tremendous amounts of energy.

It would seem they could be overloaded
by the bio-kinetic energy...

...stored in the cells of anyone infected.

These people's movement
is what's activating the nanites?

That's what I just said.

The longer they're in the bloodstream,
the more sensitive they become...

...so that the slightest exertion
can trigger the overload.

Causing them to spontaneously combust.

Like a soda-pop bottle after shaken.

Okay, so who would do this
and how do we stop it?

- I don't know. I need my lab.
- Well, we can't move them, Walter.

- How are we gonna get one of these...?
- Very carefully.

Walter, we can't risk it.

I don't know how long they have left.

Even without moving them,
I can't be certain.

Do you have any kind of insurance?

I mean, if I volunteer
for your experiment...

...and something goes wrong,
what happens?

- You know, to my next of kin.
- The Bureau takes care of you.

Everybody that we work on
is fully covered. It's in the regs.

Okay.

You can use me.

Whatever you need.

I'm sorry, what's your name?

Jessica Holt.

Do you know what you're saying,
Jessica?

Yeah, I do.

I need a solid board stretcher.

And some ice packs and a blanket.

Must seem a little bizarre, huh?

Well, I'm an ER nurse.

Night shifts on Fridays,
that's bizarre. Heh.

If there's anything that I can do to make
it a little more pleasant, let me know.

Actually, there is. Um...

Could you get my phone for me, please?
It's in my handbag.

Of course.

Thank you.

Mike, it's me.

No, I know. Um...

Yeah. Listen, I need you to pick up Sarah
after school for me, please.

No, I know it's not your day. Um...

But, you know... Please, Mike.

Um, I'll explain it to you later, okay?

Okay, bye.

- Thanks.
- Of course.

Olivia.

How long until this antidote is ready?

I'll just check with Walter.

- How close are we?
- We're starting to see first results now.

- But how long is it gonna take?
- At this rate, a couple more minutes.

Hey, Walter,
her temperature's rising rapidly.

How rapidly?

Two degrees in the past 23 seconds.

- What about an ice bath?
- That won't help.

Just try to keep her calm.

Jessica. Jessica.

- I just want you to focus on me, okay?
- Okay.

- Grab the ammonium nitrate.
- Speed up the condensation?

- Unless you have a better idea.
- She's 104 degrees.

- We need 60 seconds more.
- We don't have 60 seconds.

Oh, my God, get away from me.

Jessica, just focus on your breathing.

- Walter.
- Forty seconds more.

It's okay.

How are you doing that?

Her temperature's dropping.

She's okay.

How did you do that?

I have no idea.

This should permanently remove and
neutralize the nanites in your system.

Thank you.

I can breathe now.

You and a lot of other people.

Walter, do you have any idea
what just happened to me?

I can make an educated guess.

Cortexiphan has given you
certain kinetic powers.

Moving molecules so quickly...

...that you can create
spontaneous combustion, yes.

Or perhaps in this case,
you slowed the molecules down...

...causing her to cool down.

But how did I do it?

I'm afraid I have no idea.

I should get her home.

Let me know what happens
with the others.

I will. But now that the antidote's
been synthesized, they'll all be fine.

Thanks to you.

Thank you.

I don't know how you did it, but you did.

You know, not everybody would
volunteer to be Walter's guinea pig.

Ha, ha. It wasn't really for me.

I've got a 4-foot-tall redhead at home...

...who's constantly in dire need of
mac and cheese and help with her math.

- And her father's an idiot.
- Ha, ha.

Well, if you ever need help getting
to the head of the line in an ER...

And listen, if you find that you have
any more symptoms, give me a call.

I will.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Bye.

Dunham.

We know who's responsible.

This was taken 10 minutes
before the first victim was reported.

Another camera picked him up leaving
the scene. We lost him after that.

Well, at least we know Jones
is in our universe.

What does infecting people
with nanites...

...have to do with ending the world?

Everything Jones has done
has been in service...

...of collapsing our two universes
to create a third.

But destroying the bridge
ruined that plan.

As far as we know.

Think he found another way to create
his own universe in place of ours?

I don't know.

But we do know Jones.
We know he's not gonna just give up.

It can't be.

A chimeric structure in nanites?
I don't believe it.

That was Olivia.

David Robert Jones
is definitely behind this.

Walter, what is it?

A hundred different ways
to design a nanite and he chose this?

It's inconceivable.

Not by chance.
Jones isn't smart enough.

Not by himself.

Wait, what are you saying?

Jones didn't create these nanites.
They're not his design.

There's only one person...

...who would construct
this particular pattern.

Who?

I have bad news, sir.

Agent Dunham has stopped us again.

Don't be so sure.

Olivia beat us today.

Clearly you don't seem concerned.

Don't confuse a winning move
with a winning game.

This board never changes.

How long do you take between moves?

Since the last move...

...about 40 years.

In this game, the skill one must have
above all else is patience.

The board changes...

...but very slowly.

The art of chess...

...the art, is knowing when a piece
is most valuable...

...and then in that very moment,
being willing to sacrifice it.

For in the vacuum created by the loss
of what is most precious...

...opportunity abounds...

...influence is maximized...

...and desire becomes destiny.

For example...

...on this board...

...the most valuable piece...

...is the bishop.

Therefore, for the game to be won...

The bishop must be sacrificed.

I'll attend to it.

Promptly.

He's alive. I'm telling you, he's alive.

I know that Jones' plan
was too ingenious, too remarkable...

...that it had to have come from Belly.
He's alive, Nina.

The nanotech that Jones used
on the escalator, I've examined them.

They were built by Belly.
I'd recognize his work anywhere.

- His methodology was all over it.
- Jones had access to many projects.

He could simply have copied
William's research...

Nina! It was the work of a master,
not an imposter.

I know the difference.

Walter said Bell died in a car accident
on New Year's Day seven years ago?

Yes. I went to the hospital.

I saw his body.

But it wasn't New Year's.
It was Christmas.

I always thought
that he died on New Year...

...because he came to visit me
the night before to say goodbye.

Walter, what are you talking about?

When I was in St. Claire's,
Belly came to visit me.

It was New Year's Eve, 2005.

They gave me additional shocks that day,
so I can't remember what he said.

- Nina, I know you loved him...
- Oh, Walter, just stop it!

The car crash wasn't an accident.

William had lymphoma.
He'd been trying to fight it, but...

I think he didn't want me to see him that
way. He didn't want to be vulnerable.

He wanted to go out on his own terms,
and he did.

- It's still possible.
- Walter, anything is possible.

But the man I knew wouldn't
try to destroy a universe.

That doesn't sound like William.

Fine.

I'll prove it to you.

If my son is not too busy monitoring
my cure, I'd like him to meet us.

Where?

Well, well.

Wally Bishop.

Hey, doc, you just visiting or are you
coming back to stay for a while?

Good news.

The administrator can see us now.

Everything okay?

Fine.

I'm sorry, we're still transitioning to
a more up-to-date, record-keeping system.

Federal funding isn't all it used to be.

In fairness, I'm told it never was good.

So technically,
it never was what it used to be.

I guess now it's just worse.

But I'm confident
these are all the visitor logs...

...during the period of Dr. Bishop's...
- Incarceration.

I was going to say treatment.

It has a nicer sound and I'd like to think
is more reflective of what we do here.

Would you, now?

What about your surveillance archives?
Security cameras?

I'm afraid our current mainframe
storage capacity is limited.

The institution doesn't keep anything
older than two years.

- How convenient.
- Walter.

Dr. Benlo has been cooperating fully.

Do you see anything in those that
suggests the logs have been doctored?

No.

Matter of fact, they're perfect.
Very thorough.

Every single individual logged in and out.

And no William Bell.

Walter...

...you said that you had been
having a lot of shock therapy.

Think perhaps it could have been
a hallucination?

No.

No, no.

My hallucinations
were rarely biped and never men.

- Dr. Bishop, are you...?
- Crazy?

No.

May I borrow this?

Um... Well, those records
have already been digitized...

Thank you. Let's go.

Thank you.

I must say, you're much prettier
than your predecessor.

You've been talking for hours

I don't know why
Walter needed that log book.

And he's not telling me.

And he won't back off
that Bell thing either.

Oh, man. It's okay. I got it.

- God.
- Oh, that's gotta smart. Heh.

That's what happens
when you drink and mince.

Heh. Thank you.

It's only natural

What's the matter?

Are you worried about Walter?
You shouldn't be.

No, I'm not thinking about Walter.

The things they taught you

They're lining up to haunt you

I was thinking about that girl, Jessica.

One encounter with us and her child
almost becomes an orphan.

We deal with this every day.

Won't you pick up the receiver?

We're playing the odds, Peter.

I mean, what do you really think
our chances are of having a normal life?

It doesn't have to be so dark

Olivia, I know you're scared
about what happened in the lab.

I don't know what's happening to me.

What I'm becoming.
I've got this power inside me.

And it terrifies me because I don't
understand it and I want it out.

Okay.

So we'll figure it out.

Together.

Is that a personal guarantee?

After all we've been through...

...I will not lose you again, Olivia.

- I'm starving.
- Ha, ha.

What's a guy gotta do to get
a good home-cooked meal around here?

Where are you now?

Just passing Kenmore Square.
What do you mean, it's the sun?

Even though we can't see it,
it's in the sky.

Jones must be reflecting the light off
something, like one of those disco balls...

...and then focusing it like we do
with a magnifying glass.

- How is he doing that?
- Not sure yet. But I have my suspicions.

Yeah, Farnsworth. Agent ID JH112402.

Why is he doing it? Seems like he's trying
to burn a hole to China.

It's a myth. Technically
it would be India. But I doubt it.

What does this have to do with nanites?

And how do we even know it's Jones?

Heh. So you are prepared to concede
this may well be the work of William Bell?

- Not my point.
- Okay, thanks.

- Satellite imagery?
- I just got access to the system.

Radio waves?

Coming online right now.

I need geological data on Beacon Hill.

- Which one do you want me to do first?
- All of them.

You said that Agent Broyles was on-site.
Is he evacuating the area?

- Yes, one square mile from the beam.
- Okay, Walter, the geological is printing.

- Oh, no.
- Oh, no, what?

I knew I'd read something about this.
Three months ago...

...a subterranean oil reservoir
was discovered below Beacon Hill.

- What does that mean?
- Imagine putting a match...

...to a can of lighter fluid.
Unless we stop this soon...

...that sunbeam will essentially
set Boston on fire from below.

Peter, you should alert Agent Broyles.

Tell him he needs to evacuate an area
with a radius much wider than one mile.

- How much?
- All of it.

- All of what?
- Boston.

We'll call you back.

You're right. There is a radio frequency...

...that's not owned by the government
transmitting in the S-band.

- What's the frequency?
- Two-two-zero-two-point-five-one-eight.

Actually, there's two frequencies.

- What?
- Also 0.520.

Of course.

You brilliant bastard, Belly.

Quick, get me something to write on.

- Dunham.
- Turn around. Head south.

Towards Beach Street
on the edge of Chinatown.

- Why? What's there?
- I believe that's where Jones...

...is commanding the satellites from.

What satellites, Walter?

Jones has commandeered
two private satellites...

...or maybe he launched them.

They're the disco balls
that are bouncing the sunlight around.

I triangulated the signals.
And they appear to be coming...

...from the 1600 block off Beach Street.

Interrupt the signals
and you shut off the sun.

- Well, you know what I mean.
- Okay, we're on our way.

Ah. Get a knife. My lemon cake's ready.

Walter, if you were hungry,
I could have gotten you something.

This is not about food, Athos,
this is about Bell.

Where's the knife?

Please? Quickly?

All right, this is the 1600 block.

- You see anything?
- Peter, look.

That antenna. Do you think
that's what's controlling the satellites?

It could be. There's the other one.

Okay, I'll take this one,
you take the other.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

We got to turn them off.
Just figure it out when we get up there.

Oh, my God, that smells terrible.
What is it?

Lemon cake.

Laced with pig brain.

- What?
- Hmm?

Lemon cake is the perfect incubator.

I thought it was easier to get
pig brain on short notice...

...than a human specimen.

Is that from the log book at St. Claire's?

Just the relevant page.

I first tried scraping it, hoping Belly
had left some DNA behind...

...but he was too clever.

Or maybe he was never there
in the first place.

I know none of you believe me, which is
why I've conducted this little experiment.

The pig brain is activating
a little-known side effect of Cortexiphan...

...which is
temporary tissue regeneration.

Heated between 90 and 100 degrees...

...the Cortexiphan I've added
to the pig brain...

...should cause at least
partial regeneration...

...of all biological matter
on the sheet of paper.

And voila, fingerprints.

Although identifying Belly's prints...

...from these smudges
may prove impossible after all.

What is that brown mark?

Don't know.

Walter.

Huh. As I said,
the Cortexiphan is regenerative.

You shouldn't eat it, though.

Almond oil.

I knew it. Chilean almonds.

Almonds?

Belly was obsessed with them.
Even had an agreement with the importers.

They sold them to him wholesale.

He must have had
that oil on his fingertips.

Walter, what are you doing?

I'm going to find Belly.

A1 Imports. Down by the seaport.

Walter, would you stop? This is nuts.

I'm not crazy.

At least I'll be able to confirm that
he's still alive. Would you excuse me?

What about Olivia and Peter?

Doing everything they can.
Nothing we can do to help them.

What do you think
you're gonna find there?

Walter.

Walter.

I know this is a wild-goose chase.

A fool's errand. And I am a fool.

But no one is asking you
to join me, Alex.

It's my hunch, and I am quite capable
of pursuing it on my own.

So peace out.

- I don't...
- Drive.

Alex?

I was on a roll.

Got it.

- You found the control panel?
- Yeah.

Now find the dial marked
"transmission amplitude."

That's the one that needs to be
tuned all the way down.

- Okay, got it.
- But not yet. Not yet.

Sorry. We have to do it together.

If we don't, the beam could go
off-kilter, cut a swath across Boston.

Be sort of like don't cross the streams,
just, you know, in reverse.

You know I have no idea
what you're talking about.

Yes, I know.

Okay. Tell me when.

Okay. In three...

...two, one, go.

You did it. Good job.

Jones!

Hey! Security!

- I'm FBI. I can show you my badge.
- Drop your weapon.

I said drop it. Now!

How did you...?

I got it wrong.

I was the sacrifice.

I was the bishop.

- Tailfins?
- Yes.

Tailfins. Whitewall tires.

Two-tone paint jobs.

Sure, by today's standards,
terrible for the environment...

...but there's something
to be said for style.

A1 Imports. Come on, dear.

Walter, they're probably not even...

Ye of little faith.

It's just as I remember it.

I used to accompany Belly here
on his visits.

Not a smell you forget.

- Smells like sweat.
- Exactly.

Hello.

Hello, sir. My name is Walter Bishop.

I'm sorry to trouble you so late.
I was hoping to speak with Ms. Weisberg.

- I'm sorry. Who?
- Lynn Weisberg.

Uh, lovely woman. Yay high.

- Nice laugh.
- Walter, I don't think he knows her.

She's the owner.

Or she was. I was hoping to ask her
about a particular customer.

I think I get it. You're talking about
that import/export company.

Well, they went out of business
three years ago.

- I see.
- Tom. Do you copy?

Yes, I'm here. Coming right now.

Look, I have to go.

Um, thanks for your help.
Sorry to have bothered you.

No bother.

Maybe we should ask around.
Maybe someone else...

- Walter, he had a gun.
- What?

A dangerous neighborhood.

Whatever the reason,
there are no almonds here.

Did you hear that?

Yes.

- Walter.
- Come on. Come on.

Walter.

What are those?

One of them sounds almost like a rhino...

...but more nasal.

I'm sorry, we were leaving
and then we heard a noise...

- Tell him we have visitors.
- Sir, I'm with the FBI.

- Uh-uh.
- You're making a...

Stop!

Hands where I can see them.

Look, this is all just a misunderstanding.

Walter, come on.

Oh, oh, oh.

No.

No.

I'm not sure I ever thought
I would see you again.

Hello, old friend.