That was the kind of casual summing up that takes more processing power to parse than what Harry has access to, honestly. He's struck dumb for a moment, stuck listening to what seems to amount to a kind of impenetrable, frustrated litany. ENCYCLOPEDIA — MINDSEYE? Oh, of course! The winged MINDSEYE scientists! Those guys!.
"You saw all of that?" He's looking back at the screen - at the shifting image creeping back, now the interference seems to have faded again. It's still a confusing mush of lines and shapes to him. His mouth sets into a grim little line.
Either Calculus is right, and this is yet another window into his own inadequacies as a cop, or... INLAND EMPIRE — Or?
"Sorry, uh..." He sniffs and looks up at Hank again. "Just catching up. You think the bodies are keeping this place rooted?" It's not a sentence that feels right, coming out of his mouth. He tries again: "Like, what, a mass-burial anchor?"
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ENCYCLOPEDIA — MINDSEYE? Oh, of course! The winged MINDSEYE scientists! Those guys!.
"You saw all of that?" He's looking back at the screen - at the shifting image creeping back, now the interference seems to have faded again. It's still a confusing mush of lines and shapes to him. His mouth sets into a grim little line.
Either Calculus is right, and this is yet another window into his own inadequacies as a cop, or...
INLAND EMPIRE — Or?
"Sorry, uh..." He sniffs and looks up at Hank again. "Just catching up. You think the bodies are keeping this place rooted?" It's not a sentence that feels right, coming out of his mouth. He tries again: "Like, what, a mass-burial anchor?"