At Harvard, Lincoln -- who could change into a porcupine-bat himself if he doesn't get help -- is nevertheless balking at the wheatgrass, penicillin and laxative blend that Walter's brewing up. Walter hands him a beaker full of the stuff, telling him that he added mint to kill the aftertaste. Lincoln takes a healthy swig and then chokingly reports that the mint maneuver didn't work.
Then Walter checks in with Peter, telling him he's figured out what the injections are for: to safely manage the transformation. "They're on a schedule to ensure that the mutation doesn't occur too quickly." That's why Bowman died, Peter figures; he was in the cabin, and the drugs were stuck down in his checked luggage. Yeah, thanks a lot, Osama bin Laden!
Anyway, you're never going to believe this, but Walter's got a computer model that is able to use Lincoln's infected blood to replicate the mutation sequence, which sounds utterly preposterous to me. Nevertheless, we're watching a rendering of the Porcupine Man spinning around on screen, and it doesn't have bat wings, because, according to Walter, it just needs to recreate the last few injections.
Then Olivia and Astrid check in with good news (well, at least for the purposes of their investigation): a surgical center just outside of Allston was robbed ten days ago, and a half-dozen bags of surgically removed fat were stolen. The bad news is that two of guards were killed during the robbery and the place has been under lockdown ever since, meaning that if they need more fat, they're gonna have to get it from someplace else. The problem is that there are over forty-five potential clinics in a ten-mile radius. Yeah, and besides, they're in Boston, so if they get really desperate for human fat, they're gonna have options.
Fortunately, this ridiculous computer program has managed to sketch in the wings, so Peter asks how many of the clinics were in high-rises. Well, surely LOTS of those forty-five clinics would be in -- oh, just one? Really? OK, well, that sure is lucky!
So the agents are off to LDP Institute, which is in Beacon Hill on the 12th floor. But this time, Lincoln stops them and tells Peter that he's got no choice: "I need to call for reinforcements. I have to inform Broyles."
Peter's all, if you call Broyles, he's gonna know that Olivia was working on the case, like HELLO, PETER, YOU ARE GOING AFTER A MURDEROUS PORCUPINE BAT, but fortunately Olivia's there to remind them that they are not in charge of her li'l ol' feminine self and announces that she just called Broyles, who will have backup meet them at the facility. "He said he'd deal with me later."