"Fringe, FF Season Six1: 'Resolution Deferred'…"
Summary: The latest reset of the timeline has left a serious paradox centering in one already rather put-upon person…
2015, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts…
"Hi ho, hi ho…Tis off to work we go…" merry chant…
"Grandpa…" Child's voice, giggling…
"Etta…" the tall, grey-haired man in lab coat bearing the small girl upon his back halted to set her down… "Are you not anxious to see my bioluminescent jello lights?"
"They are something…" the slender curly-haired woman in lab coat writing on a clipboard, beamed at the two…
"They're the best…" gleeful tone, slap of hands to sides… "An ecofriendly night light you can eat…In six delicious flavors, no less. And with the luminescent bacteria to provide a source of nutrients including protein…You could live on them." the grey-haired man happily proclaimed as he led the eager little girl to a refrigerator on the side of the lab.
"Walter, just make sure those are the edible ones…" the woman eyed him sternly. "You nearly ate the incubation ones last week…Even with my warning sign and the radiation sticker."
"Oh, we're not going to eat them anyway, just look at them, Astrogirl…" he opened the refrigerator, proudly displaying the brightly glowing jello cups.
"Walter." She frowned as Etta giggled again. "I know you know my name."
"Astrid Bishop-Farnsworth…" Etta proclaimed.
"I prefer…Nana…" Walter smiled slyly at Astrid…
"I think 'Mommie' is more like it in your case, Walter." Wry grin.
"Yes…" he mock-sighed to Etta who grinned. "That is true, Etta…Our Astrogirl is both 'nana' and 'mommie' to us. As well as my partner in science…And in life…" he beamed at Astrid who smiled wryly back.
"Too many jobs for her, don't you think?" he noted to Etta who pondered as Astrid grinned.
"No. Nan Astrid can do it." Etta proclaimed.
"I sometimes doubt that very much…" Astrid sighed. "Ok, Grandpa…We have to go over this requisitions list. The Fringe office turned down nearly half the items you said were vital."
"Not including my licorice?" Walter looked at her, concerned.
"I bought the licorice…" Astrid noted. "Out of our household budget, I told you. Don't worry on the licorice front."
"Yea!" Etta cheered, Walter joining in… "Licorice…!"
"The good kind, not the ones I don't like…?" Walter, anxiously.
"The good kind…And some black, too…"
"I don't like black…Too sour…It's like eating Moxie." he shook head.
"But I do…" Astrid noted, raising eyebrows.
"Oh…" he eyed her, then glanced to Etta with a "What should I say?" expression…
"I like black, too, sometimes…" Etta nodded sagely. Careful look to Walter…
"Well, then… Good…I suppose…" Walter nodded, sly wink to Etta…
"But your dilithium laser was turned down…" Astrid noted.
"Oh…No…" he sighed. "But, but…I needed that…"
"To what? I still don't know why you requested that?"
"Why, to cut out Etta's drawings on to a plastic surface, then make our fairy tale theater…" he insisted, Etta nodding firmly…
"And perhaps for some analysis of that bit of Belly's hand we took out of the amber…" he hissed in her ear, keeping out of earshot of Etta.
"Well, the FBI didn't accept either explanation as sufficient…" she noted, suddenly groaning…
"Astrid?!" Walter, alarmed, as she doubled over…
"Nan?" Etta, anxiously…
"Ohhh…" Astrid groaned, looking at them… "Walter?" she reached out for his hand, he grabbing hers…
"Astrid…My dear…My dear…" he squeezed her hand, leading her quickly to a chair. "We have to have a doctor look at you, this is the third attack you've had." He gently lifted her head, peering into her eyes.
"I'll be fine in a moment…" she waved a hand.
"No, we have to go to the hos…Doctor, Astrid." He corrected at her hard glare and glance at the frightened Etta. "Your mother is the same way…" he sighed to Etta. "She never takes proper care of herself…Peter is always telling me how hard it is to get her to go to a doctor, even for the FBI physical."
"Mom doesn't like doctors…" Etta nodded.
"Not hard to imagine why…" Astrid noted, sitting up a bit in her chair. "I'm ok now…It's all right, sweetie…" she smiled at Walter's anxious face.
"It's not all right…" he frowned. "Astrid…Something is wrong…And it's just like Fate, that cruel b…Witch…" he corrected at her grim look and glance to the worried Etta, now holding her other hand.
"…to do you harm…I insist we go to the doctor or I examine you here. In fact, both…"
She pulled at his hand…While smiling at Etta. "Honey, I'm feeling better but could you get me some water?"
"Sure thing, Nan…" Etta hurried off to the sink…
"Not the lab sink…" Walter called. "Sweetheart, get it from the food fridge, all right?"
"Right, Grandpa…" call back…
"Astrid…?" he eyed her.
"Not in front of Etta…" Astrid hissed… "But, yes… I had another vision…" He gently touched her cheek with his hand, a caressing stroke, she smiling in response, pressing cheek to the hand's touch.
"We must find out what all this is about…" he insisted, quietly but firmly. "I will not allow anything to bring harm to you."
"Walter…" gentle tone.
"I know. I know. Love means inevitable loss…I am ready to face that, Astrid." He nodded. "I've been there and I can…I can accept it. But not without a fight, the biggest fight I can make."
"Well, good…But I meant to say…After all we've been through…I'm not letting anything take me away from you." Grin.
Matched…
…
FBI HQ, Boston…FringeDivision…
"So…" the tall, bald man in suit with fiercely piercing eyes at the head of the large table stared at the various agents in the conference room, finally focusing on two…One, female…Olivia Bishop…And one, male…Peter Bishop…
"…this…" he indicated the projected map on the large screen behind him… "Is our latest data on the remaining soft spots in our universe…" A series of a few red dots expanding slightly in pink at various areas, nearly all around the New York/New England area… "And the same, for the parallel universe…From their Fringe Division…" he clicked on his desk's laptop to project a more numerous series of red dots, the largest matching to the few on the original display.
"Mostly it's good news. Despite the shutdown of the stable dimensional gateway, the parallel universe continues to heal and our efforts, coordinated with them, are undoubtedly helping that along. Their Secretary of Defense and their President both wanted me to convey their thanks for all your work to further that. So, thank you, ladies and gentlemen, from the people of two universes…" nod.
"However…" he gave a hard glance at the various faces. "Incidents continue. Attempts to acquire dangerous technologies, including those of the parallel universe, continue. And we have reason to believe that despite the removal of William Bell and his deputy David Robert Jones as their leaders, ZFT fanatics continue their efforts to reopen the breeches and unite the two universes in a catastrophe that could destroy both. In addition, the parallel universe's Secretary of Defense confirms our evidence of serious temporal anomalies having occurred, the causes and reasons for which we cannot yet be sure."
"Therefore…I can categorically state…" he paused… "That a need remains for this division and that funding for it will continue. We're fortunate to have been reasonably successful so far in containing some of the threats, presumably all of the worst, and we now have good and trusted allies in the other universe but this is not the time to get cocky or comfortable… So, in short, the best news? Your jobs are secure." Faint but real smile. "Though, in some ways, I rather wish I could say otherwise…"
"The pattern of ZFT actions has become quite sporadic since their loss of a safe haven at Massive Dynamic under William Bell's protection…" he continued. "But we can confirm at least two incidents here over the past year and the other Fringe Division dealt with one in theirs, which is especially troubling as it means that either ZFT agents from here have been operating in the parallel universe or a mirror branch of ZFT, with possible ties to our own, exists there. In either case, to have ZFT groups potentially operating in both universes is a serious threat, even if both groups have been badly weakened. And the cost to individuals is still unacceptably high…As with our most recent incidents…" he eyed the screen on which two boxes could be seen… "First, Angela Alice Mackey…" he clicked on a box showing a young woman in her late twenties, in dark suit, brunette hair tightly bunned. "Ms. Mackey, a data analyst in the Department of Defense was found to have been stealing classified files on top secret technologies and sending them to individuals with connections to a known ZFT cell whom we managed to turn…However when confronted with the evidence against her, it was found that Ms. Mackey had been subjected to some sort of mental conditioning. ZFT had turned her into a sleeper agent, apparently without her knowledge or voluntary consent. She in fact had so lost control over herself that she murdered beloved family members in order to maintain her cover. We still don't know how this was done but we must presume it could be done to anyone. Agent Forbers, yes?" he eyed the brunette-haired fortyish woman in dark blue suit, white blouse buttoned with an antique brooch clap at neck, raising a hand.
Peter in rather dressy style for him, at least as to dress shirt, though no suit, and jeans, glancing sidelong at Olivia…
See, the proper agent buttons right to the top, his grin saying…Following a long-running tease of his…She giving a quick frown as Agent Forbers responded to Broyles…
"Agent Broyles, sir? Do we have any way to screen for this? Can we find out if people are conditioned this way?" the agent asked, a bit anxiously.
"We do, to some extent…And to answer the essential question, yes we have been screening. All of you here as a matter of fact were screened and cleared and no further sleepers have been found. But the details must, of course, remain secret."
"As to the second incident we know of…" Broyles clicked on the second box. "This seems a bit more traditional, for those of you who have been with us for a while." He clicked the screen to show a headless…Or rather mostly headless, with bits of spine and remains of a part of skull…corpse in a chair at a rather grubby-looking desk overloaded with electronic equipment. "Philip Anderson, would be inventor and ham radio enthusiast…Killed while using what seems to have been an experimental shortwave radio, bearing, so far as we've been able to determine, no unusual capabilities outside a somewhat improved ability to lock quickly onto a shortwave transmission."
"Now that's classic Fringe…" Peter whispered to Olivia, who gave him a "Peter…" frown…
"Mr. Bishop." Broyles had caught the exchange. "Any thoughts?"
"Uh…Well, I was just saying to Agent Bishop that this seems more like our standard Fringe event." Peter noted.
"And yet you and your father could find nothing as yet to suggest any unusual activity or occurrence…In the words of your own report 'the guy's head just seems to have exploded". Am I quoting correctly, Mr. Bishop?"
"Yes…Uh, yes sir." Peter, hastily.
"Good. I'm glad I've been paying attention."
"Sir…" Olivia cut in, as anxious to keep Peter out of trouble as to obtain an answer… "What about the incident over there, in the parallel universe? Do we know anything more?"
"Since our communication with the other side is limited to your father-in-law's gateway window and your own abilities, Agent Dunham, I'd say you know as much as any of us." Broyles eyed her, with stern …I know what you're up to, Dunham…Look.
Geesh…Couldn't you give us a little slack here, boss? She thought.
I know Peter goes too far with his kidding around at times but we did save the world, even a lot more than Buffy Summers or various other fictional superguys and gals.
"However, to summarize…" Broyles finally relented, continuing…Clicking up a new box which he opened, showing what appeared to be a waterfront area…"The incident in the alternate universe took place on June 5…At 3:00pm on their North American East Coast, near their newly reopened city of Boston. As you know, most of the city there was quarantined for years and only recently have sections been deambered to allow human rehabitation…There are still numerous soft spots in the area which are monitored carefully by their Fringe division."
He clicked again, showing a group wearing "Fringe Divisions" jackets, apparently studying a rather empty dock area intently, with what was clearly advanced equipment…
"At 3:00pm their time, two men in a rowboat just off the coast were conducting a quick net survey to see if local area sealife had continued its return to normal levels since the reopening…Perfectly routine. What happened then was not routine." Broyles noted.
"Their local sensors picked up a fluctuation in the area, which was noted by the AU Fringe Division…What's more, they witnessed this…" he clicked and the agents looked to see a bright apparition in the cloudy sky…Like a burst of golden and electric blue light tearing the clouds apart for a region covering about one fifth of the sky.
"That was what they saw as did a few thousand people on the coast…It was not lightening and it was more than some sort of unusual weather event. It registered as a fringe event, somewhat like the opening of portals between the universes, but this portal appears to have had a temporal component, according to their DoD's analysis."
"Time event…?" An agent, male spoke up, eyeing Broyles. "Meaning time travel? Time slip?" the agent glanced over at Peter.
Yeah, when you got no idea, turn to AUboy, Peter smiled at the agent,shrugging…Sorry…Not a clue…
"They don't know…" Broyles, calmly. "And given their technology and their Secretary of Defense…If they don't know, we're not likely to be able to answer it, at least not without more data."
"And they suspect their branch of ZFT was involved?" Olivia asked.
"Again, impossible to say as yet. But this event shows indications of having been caused in ways similar to the breeches we're more familiar with…And those were manmade."
"Walter did agree with Walternate…I mean the Secretary of Defense…" Peter noted. "That it was temporal in nature. And it would make sense in a kind of weird way for ZFT to want to try time events…Correct past mistakes and failures, so to speak. They may be hoping to reset time once more…Only their way, this time."
"Do we know now what classified files were taken from the DoD here? I mean what were they regarding, sir?" Olivia asked.
"From what we know so far, they focused primarily on some aspects of our Fringe investigations that have been classified. But not directly associated, so far as we can tell to temporal events or time travel. I can't say more here, Agent." Broyles noted. "But, as you know, your father-in-law is continuing his investigation in concert with Secretary Bishop and we'll see he gets everything as soon as we do."
"People…" Broyles addressed the group. "We've weathered some terrible and tragic events, and we will find answers here as we did previously. But lets not forget that just because the number of events has fallen off, that the threat isn't as real as ever…"
…
"How's it feel…Knowing your somewhat insane father-in-law has a higher security clearance than you do?" Peter teased as he and Olivia walked out. She mock-glaring as he turned to pull out his buzzing phone… "Hey, Walter…" he addressed the phone.
"Not nearly so disturbing as calling him my…" she began but stopped as he tensed…
"Ok, Walter…But she is all right? I agree 100%, call an ambulance, get her over to Mass General or the nearest place...Tell her how much fun you'll get out of the ride, that'll get her." He affected a light tone…
"Astrid?" Olivia, nervously…
Repressing the natural…God, please not Etta…
"Another attack, yeah…" he nodded briefly, returning to the phone… "Ok, if she won't go by ambulance, we'll take her to the doctors. We'll be there in just a bit. And, Walter…You can do a little exam but don't start anything invasive in front of Etta without us there, ok? We're coming right now." He closed the phone, eyeing Olivia.
"Well?"
"Another attack, rather severe Walter says…And a vision again, though she didn't want to frighten Etta by going into it with her around. She's resting and recording an account in the other room while Walter keeps Etta busy."
Nod… "Ok, then…Lets go. Before Walter starts giving your stepmom electric shocks and hallucinogens or tries to cure her with brain surgery." Grin at his disconcerted look as they hurried down the steps…
"God…Now that is the weirdest thing I have ever heard…My…Stepmom, Astrid." Peter sighed.
"Hey, being married to me is tons weirder…" Olivia grinned.
…
Broyles' office…
"Hello, Nina." He eyes his laptop. "I just finished the briefing…Anything new?"
"Philip…Nice to hear from you, too." Wan smile on screen. "No, nothing to suggest there are any problems with the screening procedure…" she paused. "Are you in doubt about it?"
"Lets say, given ZFT, I prefer to be sure there are no holes to let the moles in." he eyed her, then smiled. "And how are you?"
"I'm good, thanks. How are our kids? I include Walter in that, you know…" grin.
"Surprisingly well and apparently very happy, thank God." Broyles smiled. "And God knows they deserve it."
"Well, with Papa Philip watching over them…" Nina beamed. "Did Walter and Astrid have a nice trip?"
"I believe they did…I'd have to say that's about as good a match, unbelievable as it might have once sounded as could ever be made."
"She's quite a girl…" Nina, gentle smile. "So, now that even Walter Bishop has found romance, whenever are you going to take a girl out, Agent Broyles?"
"If she'll come, tonight." Return smile.
"That could be arranged…Let me tell a few self-important people to go to Hell." Grin.
"For me? Wow." Broyles, mock-startle.
"I didn't want to see them right away anyway. Always better to keep them waiting..." puckish look. "Would 8pm work for you? My place?"
"Sounds good." Nod. Pause…
"If you're still concerned, we can repeat the full screening on everyone…I can send over my personnel to assist." she eyed him.
"No. That would only alert ZFT that we're concerned. It might be more useful to let anyone they're using keep operating without fear of detection. We might find something we can trace back. They're covering their tracks very carefully these days."
"That's a bit hubristic…" she looked at him. "I don't mean to say I don't have confidence in our ability to detect the manipulations but what if someone should have escaped d etection?"
"Fanatics tend to make slip ups. And under their manipulation, if Ms. Mackey is any indication, they become fanatics. Have you learned any more in regards to how they do it?"
"We agree with Walter that some form of direct mental control is involved, but how the mind can be so fully reconditioned, our people haven't a clue as yet…The drugs found in her system don't add up to anything more than mild analgesics and mood enhancers which could play a role but have never been enough in previous military-funded testing. And no hardware seems to be involved, at least that we were able to find."
"I see…Sounds about what our best people came up with…Though it seems the military was quite interested in the subject."
"I don't mean to sound like I condone the testing that was done, Philip. We never should have let ourselves move down that path, but during the Cold War…"
"I understand. Right now I just want to find out who did this and what they wanted that information for…It seems a rather high price to pay in terms of lives for so little." He sighed. "Three children, a husband, mother, father, all dead, and the lady herself, in her condition…Were they showing off to proclaim ZFT is still here or was it that important to them to get those files?" he eyed her.
"I wish I knew, Philip…" she sighed.
"Sorry…I'm not being very pleasant company. I'll try to get into a bit more light mood for dinner, I promise." He gave wan smile. "See you soon."
"I'll take you as you are, Agent Broyles. See you at eight."
….
Department of Defense Detention Facility…Maryland…
Solitary containment cell 58…
A grim-looking woman, brunette in her twenties, the same Ms. Mackey seen in Agent Broyles' presentation, now in hospital gown, writing at a bench…Under observation from various cameras…
In a security room, a nurse and an agent in suit watching…
"She just keeps at it, since we allowed her writing materials…" the nurse noted. "The same thing, hundreds of pages, then she repeats it. She knows it by heart, every line. So, there's no doubt?"
"It's definitely the ZFT manifesto…The one William Bell wrote." The agent nodded. "But how she could have a thing like that memorized so perfectly…"
"There, she's finished the latest copy…" the nurse noted as the woman closed the notebook she'd been writing in.
"You can hold me here…" Ms. Mackey looked at the nearest camera… "But we will change the world…The future…No sacrifice is too great for our goal." Grim tone. "Nothing…Matters but the goal…"
She looked at the notebook…
"She'll start again in a moment…" the nurse frowned. "But if you came to the room, she'd be perfectly natural…Friendly…A bit concerned about what's going to happen to her, why we're holding her. And deny she knows anything about ZFT. Or that she wrote those copies of their manuscript…"
"But she knows she killed her family…?" the agent eyed the nurse.
"She says she doesn't remember that or why she would…But she doesn't seem shocked or surprised by hearing about it. The doctor's latest report is in her chart. She thinks she's fully aware of all she's done and doesn't care, that her behavior with us is the act and this is her true nature now. It might be that way permanently."
"Sounds like she's a convert…A traitor, not a victim…" he shrugged. "Can we be sure she was brainwashed or whatever?"
"They say so…" the nurse eyed the woman on screen. "But listening to her, she sure seems like the real…That's odd…" she looked at the agent. "She always starts up right away again, writing, unless someone comes to see her."
"Oh…My God…" the woman shrieked, rising from her chair, terrified look… "My God…What have I done?!...No! No!...NO!" scream…
"Security detail!" the nurse buzzed an intercom… "Room 58! Stat!" She hurried out of the observation room. Sounds of running feet, carts being raced down the hallway.
The agent watching…As Ms. Mackey continued screaming, incoherently now…Reddening…Holding her head with her hands…She suddenly looked up at the camera, writhing in agony.
"God forgive me!" a last coherent cry.
Her head, to the agent's sudden horror, suddenly exploding, blood and gore striking the camera…
….