Variations of Their Being
Fandom: Fringe/Orphan Black crossover
Characters: Alternate Olivia Dunham, Cosima Niehaus, Alternate Walter Bishop, Rachel Duncan, Alternate Astrid Farnsworth, Tony Sawicki, Alternate Lincoln Lee, Alison Hendrix, Alternate Charlie Francis, Beth Childs, Sarah Manning
Rating: T
Summary: Meanwhile, in another universe.
or, Five moments in the lives of the clones of Fringe Division.
In 1984, several special children were born to host mothers. All* were placed with adoptive parents specially chosen to raise them in accordance with specific parameters.
* Unknown to everyone, all but two.
In 1985, the structure of the universe broke. The experiment's curators, keenly sensitive to political and environmental realities, decided to change the goals of the trial. The world no longer had time for mere observation.
The infants were left in the care of their adoptive parents, but the guiding powers made frequent suggestions about the direction the children's lives should take. At a young age the girls were told the truth of their origins and introduced to their sisters. They grew up knowing each other, with many choosing—with the subtle urging of their guardians—to become agents of Fringe Division in one capacity or another.
These are (some of) their stories.
2003
Olivia Dunham was missing her own college graduation ceremony. She didn't care. Her sister was dying and Liv would try anything, give anything to save her. Her Olympic medal, her aspirations for Fringe Division—
But viral propagated eclampsia was too new for anyone to have developed a cure. Pregnant women and their babies were dying and no one could tell Liv why. Rachel refused to terminate the pregnancy after she was diagnosed, certain the doctors were exaggerating about the danger.
She was ready to deliver any moment, her blood pressure out of control and nearly blind from continual migraines. Olivia had been calling anyone who might be able to offer help, no matter how experimental or dangerous. At this point, Rachel literally had nothing left to lose.
Liv was down to junior researchers and lab assistants, having irritated or alienated every medical professional who'd dealt with VPE. She was finally directed to a young, supposedly brilliant student at the Institute for Special Studies—a discreet name for the university established to study Fringe phenomena, sponsored by Secretary Bishop himself. From what Liv had been able to dig up, Cosima Niehaus was attending the school on a full scholarship.
Now, Liv examined the 19-year-old prodigy dubiously over the video connection. She'd explained the situation for the umpteenth time, Cosima nodding attentively and eyes serious behind her glasses.
"No, I'm so sorry, we've just started studying the virus structure, we're years away from understanding how it works, much less developing a vaccine." Cosima's hands flailed her distress. "I wish I could give you better news."
At least she hadn't equivocated, like the doctors who'd dispensed platitudes and false hope. But hearing it put so plainly felt like there really was nothing left to try. "I...understand."
The girl paused. "There's something else."
Liv was too weary for guessing games. "Yeah?"
"This disease, we don't understand how it works, but it seems to pass through families." Cosima bit her lip but continued. In retrospect, Liv appreciated her courage. "If your sister has it, chances are—"
"I do too," Olivia finished dully. "More great news."
Cosima looked suitably abashed. "Yeah. Sorry. I...listen, this is really intense, talking to you. I'm usually just looking at slides and—anyway, what I want to say is that I'll keep working on it. I promise."
Too late for my sister, Olivia managed not to say.
(Over a decade later, Cosima insisted on personally administering the treatment that allowed Liv to carry Trevor to term.)
2005
As the Special Assistant to the Secretary of Defense, Rachel Duncan enjoyed extraordinary access to the Secretary's office and attention. Sometimes, Walter Bishop thought, far too much.
She was invaluable to his office, her instincts impeccable when Walter dealt with his counterparts around the globe. Rachel spoke seven languages, her body language and mannerisms perfectly on point when dealing with nervous foreign powers. Secretary Bishop appreciated having a translator he could trust with the most delicate matters, especially when it came to discussing the state of global Fringe events.
Rachel even knew the truth behind the lie that was Z.F.T., having uncovered most of that on her own. Walter had never understood the expression too smart for her own good; as far as he was concerned, too smart was barely smart enough. But her focused intelligence set her apart, as well as a demeanor that Walter thought of as "professional" and most of her colleagues deemed "icy." Or even inhuman.
Walter had dealt with the inhuman. Rachel might be cold, but she simply kept her emotions to herself. Except when it came to her sisters—siblings, he should say—she could become completely unhinged. Any significant deviation threw Rachel completely off-balance.
Like today.
Rachel had stormed into his office, bypassing both secretary and door guard. A prerogative she'd earned, even if she did tend to abuse the privilege. One glance at her face and Walter knew something momentous had occurred, surpassing Cosima Niehaus's minor ocular degeneration and Tony Sawicki's decision to change his birth sex. Whatever this was—
Rachel slammed her datapad onto his desk. "Dr. Bishop, it's— it's the other one."
Walter raised an eyebrow and waited. Rachel stood there practically vibrating, although whether with rage or excitement, he couldn't tell. For her they were often the same. "Something's happened to Ms. Manning?"
They'd learned about the lost clone nearly two years ago, when Sarah Manning was arrested for a petty juvenile crime and her scans went into the database. Her biological signature raised a special alert, sent directly to the Secretary's office. Through channels, he'd made sure she wasn't incarcerated. Sarah had gone on her merry way, completely unaware of her unique heritage.
Rachel had what Walter classified as a near-psychotic episode when she learned about Sarah. It hadn't been difficult to convince Rachel to keep Sarah's existence from her siblings; despite Rachel's obsessive need for conformity, she also relished her privileged position and knowledge. But the mere fact of Sarah's existence, a clone who'd grown up without the supervision or guidance of Fringe Division...that proof sent Rachel into an irrational spiral of paranoia and rage.
Walter hadn't yet dared to tell her his suspicion that Sarah wasn't the only one, based on information he'd finally managed to acquire about Sarah's runaway birth mother.
Rachel took a deep, gulping breath, accompanied by an accusatory, resentful look. "She. You know she fell off the radar for a few months." Walter had refused Rachel's insistent suggestion that Sarah be directly monitored. Observation, he knew intimately, changed the observed. And the experiment deserved to play out in the wild, as it were. Rachel felt differently. "But she went to an ER in Toronto last night, and— look!"
Walter finally glanced down at the datapad to see that Rachel had pulled up a hospital report. Sarah Manning, age 21, emergency birth delivery—
He felt a shiver run down his spine, the old feeling of scientific discovery lighting his nerves. Walter snatched up the pad, greedily absorbing the details. Live birth, no complications, father unknown. Baby Kira Manning, healthy and whole.
Rachel's agitation was entirely deserved. "You've confirmed?"
She nodded jerkily, blond hair in disarray. "I spoke to the admitting nurse and the delivering physician. It's her." Rachel's face crumpled, although again, Walter couldn't determine if her contorted expression was meant to hold back fury or tears. "How is that possible? None of us can..."
Tears, Walter decided, as she trailed off. Rachel took the fact of the clones' infertility as hard as Alison and Beth. Cosima hadn't seemed to care and sterility was no longer relevant to Tony. Walter had no idea how the other clones across the country or in Europe reacted to the news. "Fascinating. Clearly, Ms. Manning has unanticipated gifts." He looked down at the pad again, weighing the options, giving Rachel the chance to collect herself. "Have blood and whatever other samples exist collected from the hospital. Otherwise, we continue as before."
Rachel stared at him in horror. "But—"
"Sarah and her daughter are to be left alone. Is that clear?" Walter resisted the urge to offer comfort; if Rachel sensed weakness, she'd use any means to subvert his authority. "We will not interfere in their lives for any reason."
Rachel's mouth tightened, and then she bolted out of the office as abruptly as she'd arrived. Walter regretted her pain, but he refused to relent. Sarah was an anomaly, worth being left to flourish or fail on her own.
And as a more practical matter, any attempt to place a watch on her would certainly fail, at least as long as Sarah was in Toronto with her foster mother. The file on Siobhan Sadler strongly implied that she'd burn the city to the ground at the slightest hint of danger to those under her care. Walter had no doubt her reactions would be even more extreme now that there was an infant involved.
All things considered, he couldn't wish Sarah and her child a better guardian. Even against her own kin, if necessary.
2006
"C'monnnn, Astrid."
"I'm working. You should be working too, Agent Sawicki." Astrid Farnsworth spared him a sideways glance, careful not to catch his eyes.
Tony caught the motion anyway and grinned. He had, Astrid noted idly, the same prominent incisors as the rest of his clone siblings. "Nothin' for me to move today and you know it, little miss master-of-all-you-survey."
She did know it. Tony was Fringe Division's transport expert, ferrying delicate equipment and personnel to and from hazardous zones. He wasn't currently on call for an event, but that didn't explain why he was at her station. Or why he kept returning despite her repeated refusals to go along with his schemes.
Sometimes Astrid wondered if he was drawn to her because they were both genetically atypical: he born with the wrong physical sex, she with a debilitating mental syndrome that would have made it impossible for her to function efficiently. Intensive gene therapy and surgical treatment had corrected both biological errors, giving Astrid the opportunity to be an asset and Tony the body he was meant to have. But Astrid was still set apart by her capabilities, and she understood that outside the walls of Fringe Division, Tony might not be entirely accepted either.
And...perhaps these interruptions were his attempts to befriend her? Astrid knew she often missed common social cues. She wasn't working on an essential task at the moment; she could spare at least part of her attention. "All right. Explain precisely what you want me to do."
Tony's grin widened. "Sweet. Okay, this should be simple—simple for you, anyway. There's a shipment coming in—"
Astrid held up her hand in what she'd learned was an acceptable signal for interruption. "Is what you are about to propose in any way illegal or unethical?"
Tony looked hurt. "I wouldn't do that to you. Uh, again."
Which didn't rule out his potential private involvement in extralegal activities, but that wasn't Astrid's concern. His last proposal entailed a shipment of cigarettes which, while not technically illegal, upset her on a fundamental level. The world's air quality was poor enough (and Astrid had access to the most current data, she knew) without adding to it. She'd refused outright and declined to speak with Tony except on division business for months.
"This one's totally on the up-and-up," he said quickly. "And I'd be happy to share part of the take. You'll like this one, I promise."
"That remains to be determined," Astrid said coolly, watching her board for alerts.
Tony shifted to remain in her line of sight. "There's a truck I want you to find. My pal Sammy just needs the chance to make a counter-offer on the merchandise. It's carrying a shipment of..." he paused dramatically. "Coffee. The real stuff!"
Astrid frowned. "I've never had coffee. How do you know I'll like it?"
"Everyone likes it. Or so I hear." Tony leaned in closer. "I found a backer, he made it clear that price is no object. He just doesn't have the right connections. That's where I come in."
"Using your access to these databases to find rare commodities? I...don't know," Astrid started, and then her board lit up. Immediately all her attention focused on the streaming data and it wasn't until much later that she realized Tony had vanished.
He did come back after the crisis had passed, but he didn't raise the matter again or ask her for any other favor, then or in their future interactions. Astrid wondered, sometimes, if she'd missed her one opportunity to taste the rare beverage. But dwelling on a single personal possibility was inefficient when she bore so much responsibility for tracking the probabilities of their world.
2008
"Captain Lee!"
Lincoln stopped at the sound of the voice, wincing. Charlie smirked. "This is all on you, buddy."
Charlie beat a hasty retreat as Lincoln turned to meet his fate. Alison Hendrix stood there, hands on hips, glowering with all her 5-foot-4 outrage. "You didn't sign the requisition for your last call. I have discrepancies on entries for several sensor devices and guns."
Lincoln flashed his winningest smile. "I was in a hurry."
Alison sniffed, unimpressed. "No excuse. I can't be expected to maintain a tidy equipment locker when no one else follows protocol."
That was an exaggeration at best; the division quartermaster didn't allow as much as a speck of dust to sully her pristine domain.
Lincoln liked Alison. He liked all of the clones, although in Rachel's case, it was only as much as she let herself be liked. All of them were fearsomely efficient in their respective specialties, and it was amazing to watch them work. None could be mistaken for each other, no matter how identical their genetics. Lincoln tried hard not to study them like the amazing experiment they quintessentially were...and he was especially sure not to mention his scientific interest in their biology. Except to Cosima, who was a gigantic geek and always happy to talk about her latest research, from her virology studies to the examination of her own genetic structure. Lincoln secretly (or not so secretly, considering) loved her best.
But Rachel ensured that they had the most current data on Fringe phenomena around the globe, even from countries that officially denied any instability. Beth smoothed over Fringe Division's relationship with local authorities, saving essential minutes at anomaly scenes. Tony got them there safely and Alison made sure the Fringe team never lacked the equipment they needed.
So it was in definitely his best interest to keep on Alison's good side. Lincoln put on his most sincere contrite face. "Sorry, Ali. Can't promise not to do it again"—that would also be a lie and they both knew it—"but I'll make it up to you. I know a guy who knows a guy."
Alison looked around furtively, her expression balanced between outrage and greed. "I shouldn't even be listening to you. Especially since I know 'your guy' is my brother. But...I might forgive you for two skeins."
Lincoln winced. The price was high, but it was worth it to keep on Alison's good side. And what was he saving his money for, anyway? "Deal."
He just had to hope the underground wool dealer had enough material on hand.
2010
As far as Charlie Francis was concerned, Detective Childs was the only one of the "sisters" with her head on straight. That was probably directly related to the fact that she worked straight-up homicide, passing cases on to Fringe Division as soon as she caught a whiff of anything off-kilter. She served as the NYPD's liaison to the division and her track record for spotting Fringe events before they fully manifested was unmatched. Charlie thought she would have made a damn fine Fibbie, back in the day. Before the FBI got integrated into Fringe Division and local cops had to take up the slack.
Charlie had elected himself as Beth's opposite number, the first point of contact whenever she got a vibe. Liv liked to tease that he had a crush, but Charlie still spoke cop language and didn't alienate them by spouting off about holes in the fabric of what-the-hell-ever. Besides, Beth deserved better than to be subjected to Lincoln's half-assed flirting.
All right, maybe a little bit of a crush. But she was too young for him and the clone thing still made him uneasy. Beth herself didn't, but considering the OCD quartermaster and the flaky science hippie and the T-boy (Charlie would never use the slur out loud, but his thoughts were still his own) and the ice bitch, the odds were good Beth had some freaky bent she hadn't displayed yet.
They were finishing a debrief on a small vortex event, the kind of thing they had down to a form by now. Fill in the appropriate date, time, location, and casualties, and the report would be virtually identical to those of previous events. At least they'd gotten better at reducing the fatality count, thanks to early warning and evacuation protocols.
"So Charlie," Beth started in her concerned way, "how're your passengers?"
She was the only one who didn't call them worms. "Dormant," Charlie said shortly, because concerned or not, he didn't want to discuss the arachnids with a pretty girl. "How's that partner of yours?"
Beth rolled her eyes. "Art's a butthead. But he's a good cop," she added. "Keeps me from going off the rails, you know?"
Charlie snorted a laugh. "You be good to him. It's can't be easy, playing the straight man to your reckless ways."
"You'd know, running after Olivia. We should all get together sometime." Beth sighed, looking at the report, her mood changing in an instant. "Just as soon as the world stops falling apart."
He hated to see her down. But he knew what always made her smile. "I saw you were signed up for the NYC Marathon. Gonna make a good showing for us?" Technically Beth wasn't Fringe, but she was still part of the team.
Beth grinned wolfishly at him. "You're damn right."
(+1: a life-changing day for a lost clone)
July 2012
They caught up with Sarah in Cleveland.
Way out of New York division's jurisdiction, but after the events earlier in the year, the Bridge closing and...everything else...the Secretary was more involved with Fringe Division than ever. And this, he'd said, was a very special case.
Secretary Bishop didn't mince words when he called Liv and Charlie to his office. His ever-attentive watchdog Rachel, Liv noticed, was nowhere in sight. "Agent Francis and Agent Dunham. I have an unusual task for you."
He turned his computer monitor to show them a police report. One of the mug shots was of a woman who—
Liv glanced at the Secretary and he nodded. "You've both worked with several of the genetic identicals for years. Most of them don't know that they have yet another sister."
Charlie and Liv exchanged puzzled looks. "How?"
"Irrelevant, Agent Francis. Suffice to say, Sarah Manning has been a...free agent...all her life. I'm afraid that must now change. Events in Europe alerted us to an imminent threat." The Secretary looked grim. "Two women have been killed, both identicals. Danielle Fournier and Katja Obinger are now in the protective custody of the Europa Akademia." He hesitated minutely, then went on. "Sarah Manning has been on her own long enough. We'd like you to bring her in, for her own protection."
"You want us to tell her she's a clone?" Charlie said.
Thank God for Charlie's bluntness. Liv bit down on a grin. The Secretary winced but didn't bother to correct him. "I doubt she'd agree to accompany you for any less fantastic reason."
Liv leaned in to examine the police report, dated several years ago. "Says here she was arrested for petty theft and vagrancy, but she wasn't charged." She straightened up, catching Bishop's eye. "Why are we involved? Aside from the obvious."
Bishop didn't back down from her stare. "Aryanna Giordano and Janika Zingler were killed in a unique manner. We suspect that an apocalyptic cult is using targeted Fringe events as weapons of assassination. That possibility demands our involvement."
Liv saw Charlie swallow visibly. She was trying not to throw up herself. "Yes, sir."
"Bring her home, Agents."
For a petty grifter with what Liv and Charlie both agreed was terrible taste in men, Sarah Manning proved remarkably adept at staying under the radar. They only caught up with her when she and her...associate...were arrested after a public disturbance. A very loud, very heated argument-slash-fight, complete with punches thrown on both sides. The Cleveland police were holding the two perpetrators for the night and intended to let them go in the morning. Sarah had apparently laughed the domestic abuse counselor out of her cell when asked if she wanted to press charges.
The cops were all too eager to step out of the way when Liv and Charlie flashed their badges. Charlie glanced through the dossier, summarizing like he would for any other perp. "Sarah Manning, age 28. Juvie record full of minor misdemeanors. Looks like she's managed to avoid serious trouble as an adult, though her name appears in relation to a number of investigations. Same kind of stuff, petty theft and con games, nothing provable."
The woman in the interrogation room glared defiantly out the one-way glass at the onlookers she assumed were there. Like her unsuspected siblings, she looked younger than her given age. She also looked ready to bolt the moment she had an opening.
They stepped a few paces to look into the next room. Charlie swiped at his pad with a finger and continued. "Victor 'Vic' Schmidt. Oh, this one's even better: multiple arrests for minor drug trafficking, assault, theft. I know this guy."
Liv glanced at him, startled. Charlie grinned, nodding with his chin toward the sullen and scared man in the interrogation room. He was sporting a huge bruise across his face. "I know his type. Small time weasel, not smart enough to get away with the crap he pulls but lucky enough to avoid charges. 'Not my fault, your honor, I'm a victim of circumstances.'" He said that last in an exaggerated Jersey accent, the voice of every thug on tv cop shows.
Liv bit back her smirk in an attempt to look professional for the monitors. "You work on him, then. But don't tell him anything."
Charlie didn't bother to throw her a disgusted look as he opened the door. Liv took a breath and opened the other one.
Sarah Manning greeted her with a sneer. She knew she wasn't being charged, so she had no reason to play innocent.
Just as well. Liv wasn't in the mood for games. "Sarah, my name's Olivia Dunham. I'm with Fringe Division. We've been looking for you."
Startled, the young woman hunched up like a feral cat. "Why's Fringe interested in me? I'm a nobody."
In response, Liv opened her pad to the encrypted video images they'd prepared. "You're more than you know. Sarah Manning...meet your siblings."
"I haven't got—" Sarah started, but stopped as the video started to play. Her eyes widened as Cosima came into focus, smiling widely and waving; then Rachel and Alison and Tony and Beth, all varying degrees of pleased to greet their lost sister.
She sprang backward, the chair clattering as it fell over. "The hell?!"
Liv could've placed sure odds on her reaction. But there really wasn't any softer way to break the news. "These are your genetic identicals, Sarah," Liv said quietly. "You all share the same DNA."
Sarah was shaking her head. "It's a trick. I'm just me!"
Yeah, Liv thought, that's exactly what I thought when I saw the other Olivia for the first time. Before she'd learned the world—the universe—was so much bigger than she'd ever dreamed. "It's not a trick. Your birth mother was part of an experiment—but I don't have all the details," she said quickly, as Sarah rounded on her. "Secretary Bishop can explain."
"The...Secretary of Defense? Look, can you just tell me what the hell this is?" Sarah's street-cat defenses had dropped away, leaving an altogether-too-vulnerable and clearly frightened young woman. But her wits were still sharp. "You said 'genetic identical.'"
Well, she'd tried to be gentle. "Your siblings collectively decided that was better than 'clone.'"
Sarah groped for the chair. "Bloody hell. How many are there?"
Liv tilted her head, assessing. It was her job to bring Sarah in, willing or otherwise. If she could reel Sarah in with the truth, all the better. "I know five personally. Several more by association. Most of them work with Fringe Division or in related agencies around the world."
Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Fringe Division did this?"
And this, Liv thought, is where things get tricky. "Fringe wasn't established until 1989, so no."
"But there was some relationship, yeah?" Sarah said, and dammit, the girl was quick. "Some uppity scientists decided to play God, and now you want me to join up to—what? Get poked and prodded with the rest? I'm not buying."
I'm not asking, Liv didn't say. Just. "Okay, take a breath. I know this is a lot to take in—"
"Screw that. You arrestin' me? 'Cause if not, I'm outta here." Sarah stood as if she was ready to go through Liv to the door.
Olivia held her ground. "What about your friend?"
Sarah sneered. "Screw him too."
"Yeah, he seems like kind of a loser," Liv agreed, pleased when Sarah didn't leap to Vic's defense. At least they could leave him behind without that additional complication. "But there's a reason we're making contact now. It's classified—"
"Sure," Sarah said, openly jeering now. "Don't have to tell the lowlife runaway anything, yeah? And if you have all of them—" she pointed to the pad, still showing images of the identicals on a loop, "—what do you need me for?"
Liv took a long, slow breath. "Your siblings would like very much to meet you. But we don't need you, Sarah. You might need us."
Sarah went very still. "Why?"
Olivia sighed. "I'm sorry this introduction isn't under better circumstances. Two of your sisters (Sarah frowned, but didn't interrupt) in Europe have been killed. We're afraid someone's hunting you. Is that reason enough?"
Sarah had gone very pale. "Phone call," she gasped. "I get one, right?"
Liv rolled her eyes. "You're not under arrest. You can call whoever you want. Wait a sec." She opened the door and stuck her head out. Charlie was in the corridor, waiting. "Hey, Charlie, how'd it go with Vic?"
"He's clueless," Charlie drawled. "How about her?"
"Skittish. Can you grab her ear cuff and other stuff from the cops?"
"Sure." He went off down the corridor. Liv held up a finger to Sarah and stepped out herself, going only as far as the drinks machine. She inserted her Show Me and pushed the button for two Slushos, then returned to the room and tossed one to Sarah. "Figured you could use something cold about now."
They drank in silence until Charlie knocked and Liv stuck her hand out for Sarah's possessions. There wasn't much: the cuff and Show Me, a long switchblade, a much-battered backpack. Olivia handed all of it over, including the knife. Trust had to start somewhere.
Sarah picked up the cuff, then paused. "I'm calling my brother."
It took Liv a moment to recall Sarah's information. "Felix...Dawkins, in Toronto."
"Yeah. And my, uh, foster mum." Sarah gave her a narrow, searching look that Olivia couldn't begin to interpret.
"Sure, fine. I'd suggest you don't tell them—"
Sarah snorted. "Like I'd deliver that news over the line." Her fingers touched the set buttons and she waited impatiently for the connection. "Fee— Yeah, it's me, but— Listen, you silly tit! Tell Siobhan to run, you got me? All of you!" She disconnected, smiling in bitter triumph. "There. Try and find her now."
Liv stared at her, trying to put the pieces together from what she knew and failing utterly. "What the hell was that about? Find who?"
Sarah's eyes widened. "You don't— oh, perfect."
Damn the Secretary and his secrets. Enough of this. "Sarah Manning, I'm formally asking you to accompany me to New York for your own protection."
Sarah waved in surrender. "Sure. I'll go meet your little clone club. No reason not to, now. Hey, was one of them a guy?" She picked up the pad, seeming interested for the first time. "They're practically a football team, yeah? They need me for a goalie?"
Her tone was light, but Liv could see her hands shaking. "If there's something wrong...I can help."
"You've got me, isn't that enough?" The tone was choked and bitter, and Sarah had turned away nearly enough to keep Liv from seeing the tears in her eyes.
The Secretary had told them to bring Sarah home. But he'd clearly left out some critical piece of information, and Fringe Division wasn't Sarah's home.
Olivia was past blindly following orders. Charlie would argue, but he'd back her play. "Sarah," Liv said, keeping her tone neutral, "you can go."
Sarah whipped around, her expression furious and disbelieving. "You'd let me walk out of here?"
"Like I said, you're not under arrest. You're a free citizen, regardless of your genetic heritage. And we're offering protection, not forcing it on you." Liv gave her a hard stare. "The threat is real. You'd be safer with us. But if you're determined to chance it alone, I'm not gonna stop you."
Sarah grabbed up her meager belongings without a second's pause. Olivia opened the door and stepped out of the way, shaking her head at Charlie in forewarning. She dug into her pocket and held out a thin plastic sheet. "This is my private number. Call me if you change your mind or need anything at all."
Sarah hesitated and then snatched the flexi-card, crumpling it in her hand. "I won't," she said, but she didn't drop it either. Liv watched her hightail it down the corridor and out of the station, then turned back to face Charlie.
"Bishop's gonna have our hides," he noted casually, but he didn't seem inclined to chase after Sarah or second-guess Liv's call.
"What's he gonna do? Fire us?" Liv said, and wasn't really sure if she cared.
Epilogue: October 2012
"Olivia Dunham?"
The caller's number registered as unknown, but the voice coming through on Liv's cuff was unmistakable. Or rather, it could have been a small number of people, but not with that desperate tone. "Yeah. Sarah?"
"Yeah." Liv heard quick breaths, the sound of someone catching her wind after exertion. After a moment, Sarah Manning said, "Someone's after me."
"Give me your location. I can send a team—"
"No," Sarah said, "but you said, call if I need anything. This woman's been following me. I broke into her car and got her name. Maggie Chen, in Toronto. Find out who she is, yeah? I'll call again."
The connection went dead. Olivia nearly tapped the callback button, then stopped. Sarah would have already deleted the burner number. Set myself up for that, she thought.
But she'd made a promise. Name searches were easy, using the tricks Astrid had shown her. Sorting the results would've been more difficult without the looker's help, but the red flags on one file provided an obvious suspect: Maggie Chen, 44, associated with a radical religious doomsday cult. The Proletheans had never been formally charged as terrorists, but they'd been suspects in a number of atypical Fringe events. Including the ones that killed the identicals in Europe.
Liv wasn't about to wait for them to try for another murder. She pulled every string she knew to put the Canadian Science Directorate on high alert, trusting that Secretary Bishop would clear her protocol violations in retrospect. And then she went charging across the border, dragging Charlie in tow.
She'd commandeered a transport 'copter and had it on standby by the time Sarah called back. "What'cha got?"
"Terrorist," Liv said, cutting to the chase. "If her group is after you, they're a threat to the whole city. You can't hide from a Fringe event, Sarah."
There was a short silence. "I'm not alone."
"Fine. Where are you?"
She heard Sarah conferring with someone else, and then a set of coordinates. "Swear we can leave freely, or we'll be gone when you get here."
"I promise," Olivia said, and nodded to Charlie.
"Heard and logged," Charlie said into her ear. "Let's get a move on."
It was a quick trip by 'copter to a cabin not far outside the city. The pilot found a cleared landing spot—obviously not the first time it'd been used for that purpose—and Liv and Charlie and an observing Directorate agent named Deangelis made their way to the cabin.
A small group of people was waiting: Sarah positioned out in front, looking wary. Behind her stood a young man with pouty lips and an older woman holding a shotgun and looking far too eager to use it. And a fair-haired child of about seven, hiding shyly behind them all.
"This is my family," Sarah said as they came closer, the emphasis clear. "You'll protect them."
"Far as I can," Olivia said, and Sarah nodded.
"What next?"
Liv almost envied her, poised on the edge of a new life. "That's up to you, Sarah."
Stealth Epilogue 2
"There's another one."
They'd transferred to a blimp for the trip back to New York. More room for the civilians, and quieter. And Liv thought Mrs. Sadler might be less inclined to use the shotgun she refused to let go of, in consideration of the thin walls.
Sarah had been subdued on the way, approaching Olivia only after they crossed the border. She said the three words quietly, but her intensity caught all Liv's attention. "Another what?"
"Another clone." Sarah grimaced on the word. "Even after you showed me the pictures, I didn't want to believe you. But Siobhan said she knew my, uh, birth mother had been part of an experiment, that's why we left England. Why she was so..." Sarah glanced back toward the hold, then shook her head. "Anyway. When I was following Maggie, I saw someone else with her who looked like me. Ratty blond hair, ate like an animal."
"That's...disturbing." Olivia was thinking fast. Another lost identical, allied with the Proletheans. Did the Secretary know about her too? "I'll look into it."
"Yeah. Uh, thanks," Sarah said, all awkwardness. "Kira's my daughter, she's why I was so..."
"I got that," Liv said, as gently as she could. "The others will be thrilled to meet you both."
Sarah bit at her lip. "Tell me about them?"
"They're all very different," Liv started, and then laughed a little under her breath. "But you'll see soon enough."
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