"Hello, doll. This is Grandmama Giftschlange. Where are you and Celinda? Dinner's ready. Come home soon. Bye, sweetcakes."
She sighs and hangs up. "Where are they? I've sent quite a few messages telling them to report back to base."
Her assistant positions herself in front of the phone. "Let's just hope they've found something interesting."
She smiles, her eyes downcast. "Yes. I do too."
She gets up and walks over to the intercom. Pulling out the mic, her message is as follows: "Trail mix, with Cashews -photograph it."
The static fills the room for a second, then a scratchy reply. "Got that. Going to the supermarket."