It's a mouse trap, Sal, Johnny scribbled to his wife in their notebook. She was sleeping with the baby, and he needed this transaction of information to be nonverbal. Putting his pen to paper, he continued, They's got tons of US, on file. Hundreds per citizen. It's a game to them. They replicate US, and run US through these mazes, generationally. The same family, same genes, different careers, different bunkers. They're neural mapping US, Sally. Not even sure what generation of US we are, you and me. I think we're still close to the first ones, the originals, but God knows how long this has been going on for. I didn't tell Jimmy or the guys back on base yet. He looked at his wife, sleeping soundly next to the baby. Can you imagine, doing this before? What if we already had him before, too? What if we're living with or talking to our own descendants from these other generations? He put the pen down and rubbed his face with his hands, more exhausted than he'd been in long time.