01x09 - Momento Mori

[bunniefuu]

Previously on Minority Report...

Remember me? My name is Wally.

I'm here to help.

Blomfeld thinks we never should have ended Precrime.

My agency had plans for them.

This is what I've been seeing in my vision!

A milk bath more advanced than the one that held us during Precrime.

Memento Mori, he was planning a t*rror1st att*ck on the district.

Coded message cards delivered to scientists,

each one stamped with the anamorphic image of a human skull.

You've helped Detective Vega.

From now on, you should be coming to me.

I'll be in touch.

Blake!

(g*nshots)

You're one of them.

He knows. I think he knows who you are, too.

(groans)

This changes everything.

(whirring and clanking)

♪ ♪

Mr. Chairman.

Quite the security setup, Director Blomfeld.

No cavity search?

I hope what I have for you is worth the inconvenience.

Me, too.

For months now, I've been warning the committee about the growing thr*at posed by Memento Mori.

Ah, yes, the Loch Ness monster no one's ever seen or heard except in whispers.

And we've given you carte blanche to pursue them with every tool available.

So, what did you find?

Nothing.

Well, it's not a surprise. They distrust technology.

They don't leave any online footprint.

That makes them invisible to conventional methods.

So, you've been at this almost a year, you know they're planning something big, but have nothing to help stop it.

What's the good news?

Well, Mr. Chairman, the good news is that we have a tool that we haven't used yet.

A way to hunt this group without a byte of data.

Of course, we're missing three very important things.

♪ ♪

(whirring)

(indistinct chatter)

(electronic trilling)

One guess what's in that building.

We need to get busy.

Dash: There are three of us: Agatha, Arthur and me, Dash.

We were called the Precognitives.

We can see murders before they happen.

For six years, we were held against our will and used to save lives.

But after the government's Precrime program was shut down, we were finally released.

We kept ourselves safe and hidden from the world, until now.

♪ Baby ♪
♪ I'm hot just like an oven ♪
♪ I need some lovin' ♪

(crowd cheering)

♪ And when I get that feeling ♪
♪ I want sexual healing ♪

Male voice: Note missed.

♪ Sexual... ♪ What?!

Note missed.

What are you talking about?!

What do you mean, "note missed"?

Song failed.

Oh...

Dash!

Wow! That was amazing.

I mean, oh, my God!

That was so good!

That's crazy.

Akeela: Dash, that was...

Where did you learn to sing?

Oh, come on, come on.

Let's not get crazy here.

All right, you took that very serious.

Let's cue up "Big Pimpin'."

I'm gonna show you people how this is done.

No, no.

Vega, buy you a beer?

From my own fridge? Ooh, baller!

(laughing)

Blake: Yeah, come on. It's free.

Akeela, start it again. I want to sing it again.

Okay.

I'm glad you stopped by.

You know, you lied to me.

You're still not off the hook.

("Sexual Healing" begins)

I don't want off the hook.

I want you on the team.

Right.

So...

Dash: ♪ Baby... ♪

This is a team now?

You know, you haven't thought this through.

You're worried about your career.

I get it.

But this is a good thing that we're doing.

That's not what I mean.

Should a power like this be in the hands of a couple of cops?

Listen, I have thought this through.

This is not like Precrime... we're not arresting people for something they haven't done.

No, you're just seeing the future and keeping it a secret.

Who else would you trust?

Dash: ♪ Oh, baby ♪

I don't know.

♪ Makes me feel so fine ♪

I don't know.

(sighs)

♪ Helps to relieve my mind... ♪

But sooner or later, somebody's gonna find out.

Male voice: Note missed.

Akeela: Uh, guys?

Guys!

Note missed.

Wait, what's going on?

Vega: Okay, give him some room.

(Dash gasping)

♪ ♪

(panting)

Let's get to work.

Vega: Okay.

People in suits, a crowd...

Blake: "Tav 8"?

What is that supposed to mean?

Dash: I'm not sure.

It was white letters against a blue background.

Maybe a uniform?

Net searches for "Tav 8" bring up results about an antique m*llitary aircraft.

It's been retired for decades.

Blake: Great.

So we're looking for a time-traveling fighter pilot, sweet.

Dash's visions aren't a police report.

They're impressions.

Not every detail is a smoking g*n.

Tell me about this one.

Dash: This guy was twisting his wedding ring.

I saw him moving through a crowd.

It looked like he was trying to get away.

The m*rder*r?

Maybe.

This man dove to protect the victim.

Hmm. Black suit.

Did you see the k*ller's face?

Not his, but I did see the victim's.

Akeela: Steven's Law. The Senate bill?

That's Ellen Meizhou-Shi.

She's a senator from right here in the district.

I voted for her.

We need to have a word with her.

No, let's drop by Wally's first.

Blake: If this is a thr*at on a U.S. senator,

"Wally" better be the FBI.

Vega: Blake.

Let us do our thing.

We'll go to the Feds the second we know more.

Besides, so far, we're having a better year than they are.

(crowd shouting, clamoring)

Because our children's future means too much to roll the dice.

Pass Steven's Law.

Woman and children: Life finds a way.

Man: Excuse me.

You must be Detective Vega.

That's him.

And that makes you Agent Shale, Homeland Security.

Please, call me Aman.

What can I do for you?

Our Hawk-Eye systems identified an orange-level thr*at pattern based on a confluence of factors...

We believe that the senator is in danger.

That.

Any specific thr*at?

Well, we haven't worked out all the details yet.

Well, unfortunately you don't need predictive policing to know that the senator has enemies.

I mean, she's leading the fight to legalize germline gene therapy in humans.

So many threats against her life, DHS assigned an agent to her.

That's why I'm here.

Germline.

Yeah, the senator could probably explain it better, but it has something to do with tinkering with a baby's DNA in utero, thus stopping disease before it happens.

Kind of like pre-health.

But why would anyone have a problem with that?

I ask myself that every day, Detective...?

Lara Vega.

My analyst Dash Parker.

These technologies can prevent everything from MS to Parkinson's.

But they also give people the power to tweak things for more superficial reasons.

Perfect skin, eye color, the endurance of an Olympic marathoner.

Some people think it's playing God.

That's where most of our threats come from.

Extremist groups.

We've taken precautions.

I wish she would take more.

There are crowds and protestors everywhere we go.

But the senator won't even consider cutting back our public schedule.

Because my public didn't send me here to back down from a fight.

They sent me here to wage one.

Steven's Law.

Your son. He was six.

He d*ed from a genetic disorder we could've prevented in the womb had this science been legal.

I'm sorry.

The gene that k*lled him came from me.

I have to live with that.

But I swore to make sure no other parent would ever have to.

Vega: So, this bill, uh, the vote's coming up soon?

Thursday... which makes the next two days critical.

Couple of points of public opinion could make all the difference, so if you'll forgive me, I have to get back to work.

Nice to meet you.

Where's her next public event?

Ventner Labs.

Press conference here at the facility.

So, if she won't cancel that, at least let us tag along.

Maybe something from our system can help us spot the thr*at.

Sure, the more eyes, the better.

Just please remember that Metro PD is here to support.

This is our show.

No problem.

And you're welcome.

(chuckling)

(crowd shouting, clamoring)

Man: Senator's out front.

Make a lane.

Man: Folks, I need you to step back.

They weren't kidding about the enemies!

(woman shouting indistinctly)

Thanks.

Woman: You're a m*rder*r!

Man: This way, Senator.

Vega!

Vega: Halt! Metro PD!

Man: Senator, this way!

Man 2: Get the senator!

(grunting and groaning)

(grunting)

(grunts)

Detective, watch out!

(train whirring)

You knew that guy?

Who was he?

Arthur: Thank you for coming to me.

I appreciate you calling.

When we last spoke, you asked me to contact you first instead of Vega with any... interesting information.

Well, I thought you were her CI.

The confidential part was accurate.

But no, I'm not part of the team.

I don't approve of what they do.

Well, that makes two of us.

But I do look after them.

Do you know these men?

Henry Blomfeld, D.I.A.

The other man is...?

Tyler Reynolds.

Chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence.

No wonder they gave you the big desk.

Where did you get this?

Let's just say my sister and I have been keeping tabs.

Because your buddy Mr. Blomfeld just asked permission to go hunting for three batteries to power a new Precog milk bath.

Well, if you think that I told him who you were...

You wouldn't be here if you did.

So why am I here?

To stop them.

You're in this with us, whether you like it or not.

Take that to Senator Reynolds' office.

Give it to one of his staffers.

He won't keep you waiting long.

What is it?

Never mind that.

The only thing the senator will ask is: "How do you make it go away?"

That's when you tell him one of your Cis knows what Blomfeld asked the committee.

If their hunt for the Precogs ends here, what's on this disk will never see the light of day.

You want to blackmail a senator?

No.

I want you to.

Don't worry.

It's more common than you think.

I'm a cop.

Again, not breaking new ground.

Have you stopped to think... why?

Why is Blomfeld looking for you?

You mean looking to enslave us.

If Blomfeld needs your help, maybe, just maybe, there's a reason.

Let's pretend you didn't say that.

No, let's pretend I never came here.

For your brother's sake.

And don't contact me again.

Ever.

(door opens)

My least favorite type of cop.

Get me Deputy Chief Palmer on the phone.

He owes me.

Don't worry about Lieutenant Blake.

We'll take care of that later.

Deputy Director Blomfeld.

Welcome to Thurn-Tippett.

I imagine you're gonna need a drink after the day you've had.

Of course, the upside is, here in civilian life, we can afford a better grade of whiskey.

Thank you, General.

Eh, old job.

Call me Bridge.

I heard that the intelligence committee stopped the check on your, um, fishing expedition.

Their words, not mine.

Something like that.

Hmm, I take it you're not looking to transition to the private sector.

No, actually, I-I don't think of the private sector when I think of Thurn-Tippett.

You're more like the fourth branch of government.

Except you're effective.

You don't have to kiss the ring, Henry.

We know why you're here.

Even though Senator Reynolds got cold feet, you still want to find them.

The greatest antiterror tool in history, sunk by public outrage over a procedural snafu.

I mean, they never should have been entrusted to local law enforcement.

Next time, we keep the civilians out.

I'm listening.

The question is what to do with the Precogs when I find them.

Without the committee, there's no government support for long-term containment.

A true waste.

My thoughts exactly.

Of course, Thurn-Tippett is only a contractor, so we couldn't possibly intervene in a government operation.

However, if certain m*llitary... shall we say surplus?... became available, that would undoubtedly be an asset we'd like to own.

Undoubtedly.

Akeela: This was all that I could pull from the surveillance feeds.

Look like your runner?

Vega: That's him.

Who is he?

Uh, space alien?

Akeela: There's no match to any record in the system.

That sounds familiar.

Akeela, what if you only searched faces with no recognition results?

Say, the last seven days, across all cameras in the district.

Smart, V.

Let's see.

Huh, this guy might not have any record in the system, but he is out there.

Looks like his movement pattern shows four to five solid clusters, places he shows up frequently.

A hospital, a high school and restaurants.

What do all these places have in common?

As far as I can tell, just our guy.

So who is he?

(cell phone beeps)

It's Arthur.

He's finally getting back to you.

Does he have a name?

No, he wants to talk.

Arthur: I know why you wanted to reach me, but the last thing I'm going to do is help you save a U.S. senator, so let's just get that out of the way now.

Why?

This is the Senate Committee on Intelligence, touring the contents of a secret D.I.A. facility.

We've been watching this location since I got the blueprints for the milk bath.

Agatha.

Vega: It's good to see you.

Wish I could say the same.

Look familiar?

They're coming for us.

Dash: It's Blomfeld.

He came by the precinct, vetting Hawk-Eye.

He's looking for us?

Requesting approval.

Luckily, I managed to shut it down.

For now.

But you met the man... does he seem like a quitter?

So what do you want me to do?

Stop.

This case.

And the next one.

Retire.

I walked into an ambush.

An intervention... you need to quit before you k*ll us all.

I'm not gonna do that.

The senator, the work she's doing, the law she's fighting for... it could be responsible for saving millions.

I need to help.

No.

They're right.

What?

It's too risky.

For all of you.

Yeah... but without my visions...

I'm still a cop, aren't I?

Before we met, I thought having a Precog was the greatest tool a cop could ever have.

I used you.

You are so much more than that.

You didn't use me.

I volunteered, and we saved lives.

Yes, we did, and when it was on the line, you saved mine.

Both of you.

You've done enough for five lifetimes.

What are you saying?

I'm saying maybe I need to get used to working alone again.

And maybe you should start thinking about a different line of work.

I have to go.

She's right, Dash.

You've done enough.

I don't know about that.

But definitely more than you two.

Where's Vega?

Uh...

She doesn't know that I'm here.

She didn't think it would be safe.

Safe?

Some D.I.A. agent is looking for us.

Arthur wanted me to lay low.

(scoffs) Maybe you should.

Dash...

They're my visions.

And it's my risk.

And I'm willing to take it.

Are you gonna help or not?

Wally: See anything new?

Dash: The senator and Shale we know.

And that's the guy from yesterday.

The man in blue.

T-A-V-8.

Some kind of acronym?

It's a m*llitary aircraft, but look at the letters.

Why are they blurry?

We are looking at a homemade brain scan of a future vision.

Beggars can't be choosers.

No, it's not just a blur.

It's... it's a double image.

It's a reflection.

It's not Tav 8, it's 8 Vat.

8 Vat Industries.

It's the name of a commercial vat-grown meat distributor right here in D.C.

I need to show this to Vega.

Wally (sighs): She's gonna be pissed.

Well, she can do that all she wants after we stop a m*rder.

(beeping)

(knocking on door)

(whispering): Were you expecting someone?

Friends of yours?

(knocking on door)

Not exactly.

Mr. Wallace?

Norbert Wallace?

Yeah.

Henry Blomfeld, D.I.A.

May I come in?

Well, that depends.

What's your trumped up pretext for being here?

That's confidential.

Wally: What is this? Where's your warrant?

Blomfeld: Would you be surprised to know that your name came up in connection with a terror treat?

Wally: Terror? I'm a game designer.

Oh, then you won't mind us having a gander at your system here.

Actually, I value privacy.

(Blomfeld chuckles)

Is this an alphanumeric password? No biometrics?

Biometrics have a nasty habit of encouraging bad guys to cut off the relevant body part.

Well, there's also ways to find out passwords.

Or you can make it easy.

Try "I hate cops."

But with a four for the "A" and a one for the "I."

I'm not on any terror list.

That's not why you're here.

And, by the way, you should know you're messing with the wrong guy.

(audio fading): Unlike most people you harass, I can still afford to hire a team of lawyers.

I know my rights.

(sighs) All right, Mr. Wallace.

I'll level with you... the terror thr*at that I mentioned happens to be very real, but, no, your name did not come up as a suspect... I think you can help.

Help you?

All of us.

I have access to the Precrime records. I know you worked there for the full duration of the program.

You knew the Precogs.

Sure.

Like you can know a pet.

I took care of them as bodies.

I-I cut their hair and I brushed their teeth.

Blomfeld: You haven't seen them since?

I was their jailer.

You think they'd come to me?

The answer is no.

But I'd be the last person you'd tell, if they had.

You're a technical genius, aren't you, Mr. Wallace?

Wally: Well, I can shut down a local ASIC node without consulting the manual, if that's what you mean.

Have you heard of the group Memento Mori?

Wally: Sounds like a name I would remember.

What would you say if I told you that we're facing a t*rror1st group who somehow made themselves invisible, despite the best efforts of government intelligence?

Government intelligence... that's an oxymoron.

Invisible?

Not an e-mail.

Not an IP packet.

Not a single face rec ping.

That all-seeing electronic surveillance state that you're so afraid of... they move right through it as if it wasn't even there.

Now, they are planning something big, Mr. Wallace, and the Precogs could be our only hope to see it before it hits us.

The last time men in suits wanted help from the Precogs, they were 14.

They told them they'd be volunteering to save lives and that they'd only spend a couple weeks in the milk bath.

Eight years later, they let them go.

And if some had their way, they never would have freed them.

I happen to be one of those people.

I'm sorry.

Wish I could help.

Hmm. Have it your way.

Search the place, top to bottom.

Pack up all of his gear.

You can't do that.

This is a matter of national security, Mr. Wallace.

There's really very little that I can't do.

(electrical whirring and crackling)

(crackling and buzzing)

Induction coils in the door frames.

In case thieves steal my equipment.

Guess I forgot to mention that.

But, uh, good luck with your investigation.

Let's go.

What are you doing here?

Coming out of retirement.

With the life expectancy at 104.5 years, my money's gonna run out by the time I turn 36.

Dash...

Henry Blomfeld was at Wally's.

What?

He is definitely looking for the Precogs, Vega.

He thinks that we might be the only way to stop some terror group, Memento...

Mori. Memento Mori.

You've heard of them?

Blomfeld mentioned some chatter.

He said that they were planning an att*ck.

What if it's true?

What if he's right? What if we could help?

By coming forward.

It's a dangerous world, Dash.

That doesn't make every thr*at out there your responsibility.

I stop one more.

No.

I stop one more, and then I'm done.

I'm out.

For good.

Let me worry about Blomfeld.

I got a call from your other special friend.

Arthur?

Yeah.

Charming guy. He thinks Blomfeld's looking for them.

He's right.

Well, you won't believe what he asked me to do about it.

This is their lives, Will.

Mine, too.

And I won't throw that away.

You think this is just a job to me?

A fancy office?

Blomfeld showed up at Wally's.

Dash was there.

How?

How did he find him?

He didn't.

But the real problem is...

Wait, that wasn't the real problem?

The real problem is we don't know how close he is.

How much he knows.

Is he just fishing through old files, or does he really have a lead?

You have to ask him.

Me?

You, too, now?

You have a relationship...

No. No, Vega, I'm not here to protect...

I'm not here to protect Precogs.

That's your job.

We're in this together.

No.

I'm caught up in all this because of you.

My job is to uphold the law, not to break it.

Well, I thought our job was to save lives.

All by ourselves?

If Blomfeld is looking for the Precogs, he must think they can help.

And if you're suggesting that we turn Dash in...

No. No, I get it. He's your friend. You sing karaoke.

But what if protecting him means other people die?

Could you really live with that?

Could he?

That isn't gonna happen.

Right.

Because you say so.

If you really want to protect Dash, tell him to stay the hell away from you.

How'd it go with Blake?

Better than expected.

Akeela, what've we got?

8 Vat Industries, a sustainable purveyor of vat-grown meat.

And this is a map of their distribution network.

Dash: And look whose recent movement pattern it matches perfectly.

Maybe our guy runs the truck.

If so, he's scheduled to make a catering delivery tomorrow night, to Ventner Labs.

Just before the senator visits for a photo op.

That must be how he gets close to her.

No. That's how we're gonna catch him.

Bust in?

Well, we can't just break in unless we see someone in distress.

Looks like someone in distress to me.

(device buzzing)

(metallic ringing)

(hinges creaking)

♪ ♪

So this is where meat comes from?

Vega: Yeah, it's hard to believe this stuff used to come from living cows, right?

Look at this gear.

DNA sequencer.

Synthesizer.

We just missed him.

This book...

What? What is it?

It was in the package that came through the Sprawl last week.

I thought we examined it.

"A. T. C. G."

That's DNA.

He must be using this equipment to synthesize something.

Memento Mori.

This is bigger than just the senator.

Dash: Stop! Stop!

Get back!

(whirring, expl*sive whoosh)

(grunting, panting)

♪ ♪

Blake...

Remember how I told you, if I found out info about the senator's assassin, that you could tell the Feds?

Blake: Memento Mori. That's the symbol you showed us at the briefing, isn't it?

You think this is linked to a thr*at against Senator Meizhou-Shi?

Well, Detective Vega found this in the possession of our suspect.

Goes by the alias Doug Hartsock, according to his employer.

He got away?

Yes.

But we found a part of a DNA sequence.

How did Detective Vega know about the suspect?

Confidential informant.

Well, you did the right thing coming to me.

I'm gonna need a copy of this.

Uh, sir?

May I ask you a question?

If Memento Mori stays off the Net, how do we plan to track them?

You remember Precrime, Lieutenant?

Of course.

It was mishandled.

That won't happen the next time.

The next time?

Do you mean you are looking for the Precogs?

It means I'm keeping all my options open.

Because I don't want the first thing we learn about a Memento Mori att*ck to be the body count.

You really think it was safe to bring Blomfeld here?

Well, if he knew Dash's face, he would've come for him already.

Dash: At least this way Blake can warn us if he gets close.

Assuming we can trust Blake. Like it or not, we already are.

What have you got?

Results from the crime scene sweep at the meat facility.

One DNA match unaccounted for.

Our suspect, Mr. Hartsock?

Might be an alias.

This guy's a doctor... Lionel Gray.

That's not him.

Weird, right?

The picture's a few years old, but the DNA match is perfect.

He changed his face.

Could be.

Plastic surgery. Extensive.

And excellent.

Okay, so who is he?

Or... was he?

Graduated summa cum laude from Harvey Mudd at 19, and then a biochem PhD from Harvard at 23.

It says his wife Marie d*ed before he finished his doctorate.

And then he left the country.

Took an assistant professorship at Seoul National University, where he pioneered new methods for genome editing with engineered nucleases.

Okay, explain that to me like I didn't go to MIT.

The same science the senator supports... he practically invented it.

And then in 2051, at the ripe age of 36, he resigned from the university and dropped completely off the radar.

To follow his dream of delivering fake meat?

Or to have access to their toys in order to synthesize whatever that DNA code was for.

My money's on a cute little puppy.

Or a biological w*apon.

Or that.

But unfortunately, most of the pages were ashes, so we don't get the whole sequence.

Maybe we stopped him before he finished making it.

No.

You're still seeing the m*rder.

Not as clearly.

We intervened.

That makes it harder to see how it happens, but I still see her die.

What about Gray, the blue uniform?

Are you still seeing him?

Not anymore.

He must get to her another way.

Maybe we can get back to Wally's and scrub my brain again?

No, it's not an option.

Not with Blomfeld sniffing around.

We just found a way to make this even tougher.

Blomfeld: Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.

I've come to learn that people don't like to deliver bad news in person.

I hope this isn't an exception to the rule.

You're right.

I have another lead.

Charles Peele.

He used to work for you.

Before he embezzled over a million dollars and disappeared.

You caught him?

Several weeks ago, he infiltrated a high-security D.I.A. facility.

He accessed the blueprints for our photonic containment system.

The milk bath.

Mm-hmm.

You think he's a Precog?

Or working for one.

He was gunned down by U.S. marshals before we could interrogate him.

Pity.

Hmm, maybe not.

His last known location was an island off the Carolina coast... Fiddler's Neck.

Neighbors saw him talking to a woman the day he disappeared. Blonde.

Keeps to herself.

They say her name is Agatha.

Find her.

(clamoring)

(applause)

All right, people, here we go.

Not seeing Gray.

(cheering)

Thank you.

Thank you all for coming.

As many of you know, I am a religious person.

And my church's position has always been that life is sacred.

For hundreds of years, from Galileo to Ventner, this meant opposing science.

But I'm proud to say that in recent years, the church has come to see just how much science can do to safeguard life and eliminate suffering for the weakest among us.

And now I'd like for you to meet my heroes.

Each of them is suffering from a genetic illness that this bill would eliminate.

Now, it's too late for many of them, but these brave souls have dedicated their last months to ensuring others won't suffer as they have.

Vega: Lenses, show thermal.

Agent Shale, do we have anyone stationed in the mezzanine level?

Should be empty. That area's been secured.

Vega, what is it?

(Meizhou-Shi continues indistinctly in distance)

(grunting)

Shale, he's in.

He's in.

What are you talking about?

There's a man here, unconscious. Looks like one of the patients.

He must be in the building.

I don't see him.

All points, we're on high alert.

The suspect may be in the building.

Meizhou-Shi: And I believe you will, too.

Far left, wheelchair.

Meizhou-Shi: God bless you, and God bless these American heroes.

It's him.

Get down, get down!

Grab him!

Whoa, no, no, no!

Grab him!

Dash: No! I'm with the police.

Move, move! Move!

Forgive me, Senator.

(grunts)

Get down!

(people shrieking)

(grunting)

Move, move!

Senator, are you okay... are you hit?

I'm-I'm fine. I... I think I'm fine.

No.

You're not.

What, what? What is he talking about?

Your eyes.

Get her to a hospital now.

Get me a secure exit. Go! Go!

(door opens)

The doctors are still trying to sequence the contaminant.

Whatever it is, they're saying somehow it modified her DNA in real time.

Permission to interrogate the suspect, Lieutenant.

Not my call.

Until my boss gets here.

After you.

How's the senator?

You know exactly how she is.

What did you do to her?

Nothing... she wouldn't have done to millions of others.

Others?

She just wants to cure disease.

We've all been there, Detective.

A loved one gets sick, like the senator's son, every cell in our body wants to help them.

So you tried to save your wife, you failed, and now you're mad at the world?

If that makes it easier for you to understand.

No. Your wife d*ed years before you resigned tenure and disappeared.

You wanted to keep others from suffering the same pain.

Same as the senator.

Oh, I don't blame her, Detective.

She's just weak. We all are.

Wanting to interfere with the inevitable.

With death.

Memento Mori.

Latin. It means...

Remember you will die.

The early Christians used the symbol of the skull as a reminder that all things in this world are fleeting.

That the things we build...

That the things we build can easily destroy us.

We won't be needing you any longer.

Thanks, but I'll stay.

At Harvard, our lab worked with Drosophila melanogaster, the common fruit fly.

We were working on genetic change.

Could have led to a vaccine for cancer.

Just... ended it.

Once and for all.

What happened?

Didn't work.

It would have, but...

I mis-entered the sequence.

A single C instead of a G.

I was tired.

You must understand what it is to live your job night and day.

I do.

Instead of immunity to cancer, the flies passed it on to their children.

Their life cycle is 14 hours.

Each female lays 500 eggs.

In three days, every fly on campus was dead.

So you're doing this because you got sloppy in the lab and k*lled a bunch of fruit flies?

Lab?

No, this science happens at room temperature with six of the most common elements on Earth.

This could have happened anywhere.

So you're thinking is, if Steven's Law passes, a motivated high school student will be able to wipe out an entire species?

No.

Humanity.

Those are the stakes, Detective.

And you're thinking that by murdering a U.S. senator you can get your point out.

I hope so.

For all of our sakes.

Well, you can see where the label "twisted" will precede "genius" in your obituary.

Um, if you're recommending a publicist, I'm all ears.

What's gonna happen to her?

The viral vector that landed on her skin will change her pigment first.

Carcinoma. Then deeper tissues.

Her immune system will do the rest.

Biology is so deliciously messy.

How do we stop it?

You don't.

You can't.

But if Congress moves forward with this bill after seeing what this technology can do, the senator's just going to be the beginning.

Who else are you working with?

Others with a conscience. Scientists.

Men and women who truly understand what this kind of tampering with life can do.

I'm not a monster, Detective.

And believe it or not, I'm the one who'll save us from ourselves.

(door opens)

Blake: Vega.

You need to see this.

Akeela: It's the senator.

Her face.

The viral vector changed the pigment.

It was hard-coded to her DNA.

She fell into a coma 20 minutes ago.

Just the first, Detectives.

I hope not the first of many.

Andromeda, who is it?

Agatha?

They came to the island...

Blomfeld and his men.

They found you?

I just barely got away.

It's happening.

We need to be ready.

I saw it again.

♪ ♪

Put them in.