Over Here
With a sigh Olivia Dunham started descending the steps to the Fringe Division's Harvard Lab. She did not look forward to her meeting with Dr. Bishop. She never did. To be honest, she almost preferred interacting with Secretary Bishop, his double from Over There. True, he was cruel and haughty, but at least she was able to have a rational discourse with him. With this Walter, more often than not she came away from their interactions angry and frustrated from his rants and ramblings.
When she opened the door to the lab and saw the agent on duty Olivia did a double take. It was rare for Agent Farnsworth to pull lab duty, she was too valuable an asset in the field. And after just having spent time with her double from the other side it took Olivia a moment to adapt to this so fundamentally different personality.
"Hello, Agent Farnsworth," she said to the petite woman who was tapping away at a computer terminal.
"Good morning, Agent Dunham," Astrid replied with a warm smile that Olivia couldn't help returning.
"How is Dr. Bishop today?" she asked.
Astrid pulled a face. "If you need anything from him, you could have picked a better time. Something has aggravated his agoraphobia, and he's been in the broom closet since breakfast, reciting the periodic table."
Olivia's heart sank. Great. She had hoped to find him somewhat lucid. With a shrug she said, "I'll have to take my chances. This can't wait."
With a knowing look Astrid indicated a closed door set in the wall next to a recess that was rumored to have housed a cow at some point. Just another tale that ranked around the eccentricities of Dr. Walter Bishop and his crazy exploits.
When she reached the door, Olivia raised her fist to knock but then decided against it. She didn't want to give the old scientist the chance to lock himself in. Instead, she opened the door, trying to fix a cheerful expression on her face.
The figure of an old man with curly grey hair squinted up at her from where he was crouched in a corner of the cupboard. His incessant mutterings came to an abrupt halt when he recognized her.
"Agent Dunham?" he said fearfully. Olivia bit her tongue. In spite of all of her efforts to reassure the scientist, to Walter Bishop she was first and foremost the person who had the power to send him back to St. Claire's - a prospect he feared above anything else. Which was what caused to him to shrink further back into his corner, as if trying to get away from the fatal blow he was expecting from her at any given moment.
Pasting a smile on her face to help allay his fears, Olivia said, "Hello, Walter. Can I talk to you for a moment? I have important information, and I need your help."
The fact that his help was still required perked him up visibly, and Walter scrambled to his feet. "Of course, of course," he said, looking at her expectantly.
"Uh… could we maybe not discuss this here?" The fumes from the cleaning agents in the cupboard were giving Olivia a headache, and she wondered how the old man had been able to stand them for several hours. When she saw the concerned look Walter gave the expanse of the lab, she suggested, "Maybe in the office?"
To her relief, Walter nodded and shuffled after her to the cluttered room with its bookcases and scientific bric-a-brac. After Olivia closed the door and lowered the blinds to hide the view of the lab Walter visibly relaxed. She motioned him to sit in a chair while she perched on the edge of a book stand.
"Yesterday I had a meeting with the Secretary," she began. "Their Agent Farnsworth has run a diagnostic on the Machine's programming. And she found something."
Pulling a piece of paper from the inside pocket of her coat, Olivia handed it over. Walter unfolded it and peered at the rows of letters. Then he looked up.
"This is genetic code."
Olivia nodded. "It was scattered throughout the data, but the other Agent Farnsworth has a unique gift for finding patterns, so she was able to put it together. She was unable to figure out its purpose, though. We were hoping you might have an idea."
The old man was running a trembling finger down the columns of code, too lost in thought to reply.
"Walter?" Olivia prompted after a while, a slight edge in her voice.
Walter was startled from his perusal of the DNA. "I… I don't know. I'm not a computer programmer."
"A computer program is nothing but a kind of formula. What does that bring to mind?"
"DNA code hidden in a formula?" Walter shook his head. "Who ever heard of such a thing? Although…"
"Yes?"
"I'm trying to remember… It was something about a seahorse. Incidentally, that was my father's nickname. He was an excellent swimmer, you know, so…"
"Walter, can we please concentrate on the formula?" Olivia cut in.
"The formula, yes… Why did it make me think of a seahorse?" The piece of paper Olivia had given him fluttered to the floor as Walter's hands started waving about, as if they were trying to pick the elusive thought from thin air. "I can see it in front of me - the curled-up tail, the long snout… It's sticking out from something, something big…" Walter closed his eyes in an attempt to visualize the picture.
Olivia waited, hoping this once his train of thought would not be derailed. And her patience was rewarded. Suddenly Walter's eyes snapped open. "The seahorse - it was part of a chemical formula for a toxin. Inserted as a sort of signature, a seal of ownership. Maybe the creator of this machine did the same thing, incorporating his DNA in…"
"That was the first thought the Other Side came up with as well." Olivia shook her head. "It's not a feasible option. The DNA analysis showed that whoever this person was, he suffered from a genetic disorder that would surely have killed him before the age of ten." She paused. "Any other ideas?"
To her infinite relief, Olivia saw Walter taking the bait. She had learned over time how to get the old scientist actively engaged. Give him one breadcrumb at a time and string him along. Her method was working again. Walter's brow knotted in concentration, his thought processes kicking into gear.
"Well, if it wasn't the creator himself, maybe it was some relative of his. This person may be somebody who was dear to him, but lost early in life, so this is a sort of token to his memory. The death of a child is always traumatic. Elizabeth lost a nephew at an early age, and every time she mentioned it, even years later, she…"
Before Walter's mind could drift off on a tangent, Olivia spoke up again.
"Good thinking. And this is where it gets interesting." She paused, waiting for Walter to meet her gaze expectantly. "I had Massive Dynamic run a comparison. It showed that this person shares 50% of his genetic makeup with - you."
Walter stared at her in disbelief. "Me?"
Olivia nodded.
"But… but that's impossible. This machine was built millions of years ago - how would they have my genetic code?"
"That's just it, Walter. We don't know. Just like we don't know where the second half of the DNA comes from."
Walter was staring into space, shaking his head. Afraid to lose momentum, Olivia prodded him again. "Walter, is there any chance that you had something to do with this machine before? Maybe you and William Bell worked on it together? And the other half of the DNA is his?"
But Walter was too far gone to hear her. He kept muttering to herself. "So tragic. Elizabeth was heartbroken. She loved that little boy like a son. Which is only natural, since we were never fortunate enough to have children of our own…"
"Walter - please, I need you to focus." Olivia tried again, crouching in front of the old scientist to get his attention. "You and William Bell - did you discover the machine years ago? Worked on it? Try to remember."
"I remember. They tried everything, but there was just no cure. No cure. He was only seven. Seven years old. Not even ten. They said it was genetic, an irregularity on the x-chromosome. Recessive in girls, but lethal in boys."
With a sigh, Olivia stood. She felt a headache coming on, and started massaging her temples to help stave it off. She could still hear Walter's rambling.
"Who knows, Elizabeth may have been a carrier as well, just like her sister. If we'd had a son, he might have died as well. If he inherited the flawed x-chromosome from his mother. He'd only have one. And 50% of her DNA. 50%… AGENT DUNHAM!"
Startled at his outburst, Olivia dropped her hands. 'What is it?"
"I have a theory. It's farfetched, but it makes sense. It's as if this machine somehow contains a child my wife and I never had. There is a genetic disorder that runs in Elizabeth's family and affects mostly boys, killing them at an early age. It can't be a coincidence."
Olivia's mind was racing, trying to analyze the consequences of this revelation. "But Walter, that would make it even more probable that you were somehow involved with this machine before. Who else would have access to your two sets of DNA? Think, Walter, try to remember. Did you program this thing?"
"I… I don't think so." Agitated, Walter rose from his seat and began pacing the room. "Computer programming was in its infancy when I was working with Belly. And this machine is an incredible piece of technology. It would have been a major breakthrough to even understand it. I couldn't forget something as important as this. I would have to remember it." He stopped, throwing Olivia a pitiful look. "Wouldn't I?"
Over There
"Congratulations, Doctor," Secretary of Defense Bishop said as he stepped away from studying the contents of the petri dish through a microscope. "This looks very promising."
"Thank you, Sir," Brandon replied smugly.
"How will you deal with the genetic disorder?"
"We anticipate that the accelerated aging process will bring this person to adulthood before the effects on tissue and organs will become noticeable. That will give us enough time to test and study him extensively before he succumbs to the disease."
The Secretary nodded. "I am particularly eager to see in what way he will interact with the machine."
Somewhere
Two Observers were standing in a stark white room. It was empty, apart from a large white capsule. Through a glass panel you could see that it contained a man of about thirty years of age with curly brown hair. He appeared to be sleeping, his bare chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths.
"It seems you overlooked something when you erased Peter from the timeline," December remarked in his customary flat, emotionless voice.
September cocked his head. "I tried, but it proved impossible to extract his DNA from the machine's programming without rendering the device inoperable." He looked at the older Observer. "I had hoped they would not discover it."
"This species is inquisitive. They found it. And now one side is building a new Peter."
"That is unfortunate." September looked at the sleeping man. "It will upset the balance we had hoped to restore."
"It was a feasible plan. But obviously removing Peter from the equation is not the solution to our problem." December turned to go. "Restore the original timeline. We will have to find another way."