Clones. Alcide hasn't heard that one yet. Is he a clone? Is everyone a clone? Fuck that theory. He feels like himself. He has all his memories, all his emotions, all his thoughts and affiliations. He's exactly as he remembers himself to be, except he's here with a bunch of strangers being held by a supposedly psycho computer.

"Has anyone thought that maybe this is a Wizard of Oz sort of deal? With the man behind the curtain, runnin' everything?" He asks, certain that someone somewhere has to have considered that. Otherwise, why can't a bunch of people with brains and thumbs stop a computer?

He listens to her explanation of what she does. How did she get a job like that? Can she say whatever she wants? It seems like Gracie is in a position of power, can reach a lot of people at once, whether she realizes that or not. And maybe it's best for her not to realize it if she has no idea what good she can do with that power if she wanted to. "So you're like the weather report. Just statin' statistical facts."