Thanks for the review, Leona, it's been fun creating that partnership between Jim and Mira; she's got a lot more to her than just 'the baddie', and it's nice to bring it out. Even if I am making it up - Lord alone knows what would've happened had there been a second season; but as there wasn't, I get to make the decision!

Yes, it's time to head out to the Badlands, with a Commander who's talking to a dead person - the first hints of a reason for it shall shortly be made clear as we wend our way to the close of part one...

Chapter Nine

Evidence

Taylor looks up from his plex: he is not alone, "I should remind you to knock before you come in." He says, with a mildly skewed smile, "Anything to report?"

Washington shakes her head, "Nothing, Commander; whatever it is that Jim Shannon's worried about, it's not what he seems to think it is. I'm more worried about Mira - why have we got a Sixer doing security?"

Taylor sighs: it's hardly a question that he hasn't been asking himself over the last year, "Shannon's watching her. If she tries anything, he can stop her."

"Are you sure about that, Sir?" She asks, "They seem pretty close to me."

And again - she's articulating the thoughts he's been having since Mira returned to the Colony. It was always a calculated risk, re-admitting the men and women who betrayed their fellow pilgrims and took to the Canopy, but what choice did he have but to do it?

"She's done it once, Sir," Washington says, leaning forward, her knuckles on his desk, "If this is a play to take over, then why would anyone else be doing it but her?"

"Are you reading my mind?"

"If you're thinking what I'm thinking; then yes, Sir."

He chuckles, "Get out there and keep looking, Wash. If Mira's up to something, we stop it quick, and we stop it hard. No second chances."

"Yes Sir." She stands back again, nods, and turns to depart. Distracted by an incoming message on his plex, Taylor doesn't notice that the door remains untouched, or that there are no retreating footsteps down the stairs.

The message is intriguing - though he is surprised that Malcolm is suggesting a mission out into the Badlands after what happened to him the last time he was out there. That said, the discovery that there might well be another portal from the Cretaceous to the Holocene is one that they can't afford to miss - after all, what might it bring through?

His upper lip draws into a snarl as he thinks of Weaver and his cohorts; the last thing they need is another portal to bring greed-driven men through it and snatch away all that he's built here. If there's a portal out there, then the sooner he finds it, and blows it to smithereens, the better.

Now that he knows the identities of the apparent conspirators, Jim is in something of a quandary. While it would seem eminently sensible to make contact with the seven men who seem to be intent on holding surreptitious meetings that are anything but, he has no idea how to do it without driving them all underground. Given that they're so keen to meet when they think that there's no law enforcement around - such as it is - they must be doing something contrary to the safe and orderly operation of the colony. After all, if it's innocuous, why go to such lengths to hide it. Come to that, why do it so badly? Hell - maybe they do want to get caught.

He might joke about being a bit slow on the uptake, but Jim is hardly unintelligent - and he knows it, too; the only difficulty he's having is that his mind doesn't work in the same way as the men who gather when he's not around. He's a lawman, not a politician - and he's never used a sentence with the word 'bourgeois' in it in his life. In fact, other than it being a favoured criticism in communist circles, he's never really bothered to work out what it even means. Political power struggles are just not his thing.

Mira sits down opposite, her expression rather odd.

"What's up?"

"Malcolm's put my name on a staff manifest to go out into the Badlands." She says.

"To look for what I think he wants to look for?"

Mira nods.

"And you're surprised he wants you to go along?"

"I guess I'm not used to being in demand," She admits, "It feels strange to be required to do something as a member of staff. Malcolm wants me along more because I know how to survive out there - rather than because of what I know about you know what."

"How's Taylor taking it?" Jim asks, grinning now. The thought of Taylor leading an expedition with Mira in the party is rather amusing.

"No idea - but I can't see him liking it all that much." Mira sighs, "I think he deals with me being here because I helped him to get Malcolm back here alive - but he's still working on the 'trust' part of it."

"How long does he think you'll be away?"

"I don't think he's got that far yet - he's still trying to balance the number of people he can take with the amount of supplies he's going to need to get us out there and back again. It's a lot of ground to cover - we had to go a hell of a lot further out than where the encampment was just to find that figurehead; and it was nowhere near any likely trigger point for a portal if Malcolm's right about how they form."

Jim shrugs, "C'mon, let's get out on patrol. Josh'll let me know if your Popular Liberation Front guys turn up. Three clicks on his comm unit."

"Which he can do from his pocket." Mira approves, "You'll make a spy of him yet."

Busy with cooking their dinner, Yseult looks up now and again to see that Malcolm is very pensive, though he is doing his best to hide it. As Erin's clearly a little fractious, it's likely that he's not even fooling her.

It's obvious why; she knew it the moment his frightened voice awoke her in the night to comfort him, sweat-soaked and trembling, as he fought his way out of that horrible nightmare of swarms of scorpions. It's been nearly eight months since the last time she had to do that - and that, more than anything else, tells her how much he fears what lies ahead; discovery of a lifetime or no.

He's going to present his final expedition plan tomorrow for Taylor's approval - which he's likely to get, as everyone's keen to know what they're dealing with out in the Badlands. It's his intention that he will manage the scientific work, while Mira guides them and keeps them from killing themselves in the brutal environment. The recently promoted Lieutenant Dunham will lead a security contingent, with Reynolds as his second-in-command. Between them, that should keep them all alive, and hopefully they'll learn more about this wormhole, and where the figurehead came from.

Yseult is roused from her musings by the smell of burning, and she looks down to find that the vegetables in the stir fry are rather more caramelised around the edges than she intended. Damn - hopefully Malcolm won't notice that she's dreading this as much as he is.

They haven't been apart from one another since his return from his second journey to the encampment where he came so close to dying, and the thought of his being away from her, and from their daughter, is almost more than she wants to contemplate. Yes - they need to get answers about that figurehead, and the only way to do it is to go and find out where it was deposited - but not being able to go with him is tearing at her rather more than she expected. There's no place for her in the party; not when she has to run her own department, and someone's got to stay with Erin…God, is Maddy feeling like this? Mark's going, too…

Hell - now the stir fry's pretty much carbon, and even Malcolm can't miss the acrid smell of the burnt vegetables.

Rather than comment, he simply removes the pan from the hob, turns it off, and enfolds her in his spare arm. Small though she is, Erin can't miss the sense of worry in her parents, but being close to them both seems to be a comfort, as she quiets her grizzling and snuggles into her mother's shoulder.

"It'll be alright." He says, after a while, "I'm surrounded by people who know what they're doing, and who're committed to getting us out there and back again. It's not going to be like last time - and I'm not saying that to make myself believe it."

"Promise?" she asks, looking up into his eyes.

"Promise." He answers, claiming her lips for a kiss.

"Honestly, Commander," Elisabeth says, briskly, "I'm doing this for everyone - I can't see why you're making such a fuss about it."

"Come on, Doc," Taylor protests, "I've only just had a medical."

"And you're now going out to find something that resides in the middle of a source of radiation that could have God-knows-what effect on your physiology. I'm getting a whole battery of tests done for everyone who's going, so that I can monitor the effects once you all get back."

Elisabeth's expression is absolutely reasonable - but firm. Even if it weren't the prime opportunity to get that second medical she's been attempting to fit in, she'd be doing this anyway. So far everyone on the manifest has submitted to the same degree of scrutiny - but again it's Commander Taylor that's pulling up at that particular fence. As he always does it, his behaviour is hardly out of character, and in some ways she's hoping that it's a good sign.

"What exactly are you going to subject me to?" Taylor asks, his expression sceptical.

"The usual - but I'm also doing some deeper soft-tissue scans - liver, kidneys, brain. We don't know much about theta radiation in terms of how poisonous it is. No radiation is safe - but some types are more dangerous than others, and I want a reference point before you go. You'll be getting the entire set again when you get back so I can check if anyone's been affected by it while they're out there."

"Malcolm's taking the full hazmat suits - and whatever doohickeys he uses these days to pick up radiation…" he's still trying, as he always does - but she knows his acquiescence is coming; as that always does, too.

Finally, he perches on the bio-bed, "Fair enough, Doc." He sighs, "Do your worst."

"It won't hurt a bit." She smiles, "To use a well-worn cliché."

Knowing the Commander as she does, she's told him exactly what she's going to do - even if not the entire reason why. Medicals aren't usually performed prior to an OTG mission, but when has there been an OTG mission like this before? Even now, she is shocked that Weaver sent that retrieval team out into the Badlands to retrieve something that might be contaminated - and said nothing to them of the risks. But then, if that figurehead was indeed nowhere near any likely points that might collect radiation, maybe it wouldn't have occurred to him to do so.

At length, the test run is complete, and the results are downloading to the main infirmary record system, where she can peruse them later at her leisure, "There. Done."

"Is it me, or did that take longer than usual?" Taylor asks, suspiciously.

"It isn't you, Commander, because it did." She agrees as he gets up, "The standard medical doesn't include the degree of scanning I've undertaken for the expedition team. Like I said, given that it's the soft tissues that are often the most damaged by radiation, if I know what condition they're in before you go, I'll be able to detect any differences - and counter them - once you get back."

His expression is still a little odd as he nods - as though he doesn't quite believe her; but he says nothing more about it, "Anything else to be done health-wise?"

"No, Commander - everyone's been checked, so if you're ready to go, then there's nothing to stop you." Actually, there's plenty to stop him - but she hasn't got the evidence she needs yet - not until she's checked the results. I hope it's nothing…

Taylor nods, and departs. Returning to her desk, Elisabeth waits for a good ten minutes before risking his returning while she's examining his records, looking instead over those of the security team. His increasingly suspicious nature has not gone unnoticed, and she has no intention of adding fuel to that particular fire.

It's as she's about to open up the file that the door bursts open, "Doctor Shannon - sorry, we've got an emergency coming in, one of the tree-surgeons slipped from a branch while his chainsaw was still going." Nurse Ogawa's expression is worried, which suggests at best a severed artery, at worst a full amputation. Without hesitation, she shuts down her files and leaves the office. Taylor's medical records will have to wait.

"He's been very thorough. There's no denying it." Taylor muses as he goes over the staff manifest yet again, "Not that I want Mira anywhere near this."

Washington looks over his shoulder at the list on his plex, "At least if she's there, you can keep an eye on her. If she's not in the colony, she can't cause any trouble."

He growls slightly, "I wish I could leave her here - but you're right, Wash. I don't want to make her Jim Shannon's problem. If she's starting something, then she can't do it from the Badlands. Besides, if she gets troublesome, she can stay out there."

"Isn't that a bit much, Sir?" she asks, placatingly, "Mira's trouble - I get it, you get it - but she's survived out there, and what's to say she won't make it back? If she does, then you've got twice the problem - because she's back in the colony, and she's pissed at you."

And again, it's like she's reading his mind. Just like she always has.

"Where would I be without you, huh?" he grins at her, a little lopsidedly, "Sometimes I wonder who runs this Colony - me or you."

"I'd go for both of us, Sir." She smiles, resting an arm on his shoulder. Resuming his perusal of his plex, it never occurs to him that he can't feel the pressure of it there.

"God, it's getting toxic in this place." He sighs, "I can't wait to get out of here for a while. I'm putting you in charge of security, by the way. Dunham's not got your experience."

"Yes, Commander." She agrees, "He's good, and he's got what it takes to step into Guzman's shoes when he retires - but he's never been in charge out there. I won't let you down."

"You never have." He agrees, "I'll see you out there tomorrow morning. 08:00 sharp."

"Yes Sir."

The atmosphere at the breakfast table is rather sombre, as Maddy gives Elisabeth Rose her breakfast - being weaned now, it's a mixture of mashed fruit and soya yoghurt that is very popular with the diner, though less so for Maddy given the amount of staining it always seems to transfer to her daughter's bibs.

She doesn't protest at her husband's departure - after all, he's a soldier, and this is part of his job - but nonetheless, she wishes fervently that he wasn't going. He's been OTG six times in the last year, of course, but only as part of patrols checking the outposts - this is another matter entirely.

"Hey." Mark smiles, sitting down beside her at the table, "I've been out there before, haven't I? I survived that - and there were only the four of us and one rhino. This trip's got so many people going that we need three rhinos just to carry the supplies."

"I know." She agrees, "It's just…"

Her voice trails off - but he doesn't need to ask for more details - he understands. He's going to be out of range of any communications for the next few weeks. Once they get past the limits of their communications relays, which will take them less than two days, they won't be able to call for help if they need it. And that's the one thing that scares Maddy the most.

"We've got Commander Taylor in charge - and he lived on his own on this planet for weeks until the rest of the pilgrims showed up. Mira's coming too - and she lived out there for nearly two years. Between them, they'll look after us."

Maddy makes herself smile at him, "I know. I should know better, too - it's your job to do this, and if it protects us all, then it's the right thing to do."

He nods. Maddy knows nothing of the figurehead - so she doesn't know why they're going out there. She probably has her suspicions, as most do, but the full details are unknown to her. He's going not just because it's his job - but because he does know why they're going. He and Dunham unwrapped that thing when they first discovered it, after all. It doesn't help that he's been sworn to secrecy about it all; Maddy is hardly the town gossip - but nonetheless, the only people who know about it are the Senior staff and those who have been drafted in to add their expertise to the investigation. He's well aware that the primary reason that he, Dunham and the small security detail form the majority of the party is to ensure that Malcolm, Bram and that wood expert come back with results. And alive. Not necessarily in that order.

Their breakfast eaten, Maddy accompanies her husband to the marketplace, where the vehicles have been parked up and the expedition is assembling. Bram and Malcolm are in the process of checking the inventories of the three rhinos to ensure that they've got everything, while Taylor is checking names off the staff manifest. He has a security team of eight, a nurse, two scientists, and a woodworker to look after.

"Dunham," he calls, "Have the troops fall in."

"Sir."

To be fair, he's put a good team together; Reynolds, of course - the two are practically joined at the hip; while the rest are a good balance of discipline and skill, "Lynott, Savage, Wicks, Travers, Edison." He says, to prompt a response as though calling a school register, then he pauses, as he sees a name that is - suddenly - not expected at all.

Awaiting the call of his name, Carter looks bemused. He's been accepted wholly and utterly into the Security detail - and is no longer used to that air of suspicion that he had to carry around with him when he first got back from the Badlands. While Mira is the expert in survival out there, he's no slouch himself, which is why Dunham picked him. It seems, though, that Taylor is not so keen.

"Carter." Taylor says, eventually.

"Sir." He tries, rather well, to conceal the sullenness that is suddenly emerging at the implied insult. Fortunately, he notices Dunham's equal look of bemusement at the sudden shift in atmosphere. It looks like it's only Taylor with the problem, then.

"You're in charge while we're gone, Shannon." Taylor calls across to Jim, who is standing with Elisabeth, "This place'd better be standing when we get back."

"I'll make sure it is." He grins back, "Well mostly."

Taylor's chuckle at his joke is a relief - perhaps he's okay after all. Now is - of course - not the best time for him to be heading out of the Colony, not while they've got some disaffected colonists to deal with; but if Malcolm's calculations are right, it looks like they're on a deadline, so it's now or never.

"You done, Malcolm?" Taylor calls.

"Yes, Commander - we're ready to go." He hands his plex to Bram, and crosses to where Yseult is standing, with Erin in her arms, joined in motherly solidarity by Maddy, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I know." Yseult smiles at him. There's no need for expansive goodbyes - that was all done before they left the house, in the midst of intense lovemaking in the incoming light of the dawn, "Be careful."

"Always." He kisses her gently, "I'll be thinking of you every night."

The two mothers watch as their husbands return to the general throng and board the various vehicles that will carry them out beyond the borders of their colony - and the borders of their ability to communicate. While both men came back from their travels - and travails - out there, neither Maddy nor Yseult want them to return to that hostile place. There is, after all, no guarantee that they'll be safe a second time.

"All done, Commander." Dunham says as Taylor clambers into the rover he's driving solo, "I'll see you when we make camp this evening."

"I've always liked how earnest he is." Washington says from the passenger seat as Taylor starts up the engine, "He's a good soldier."

"That he is, Wash." He agrees, "that he is."

Watching as the gate lowers in the dusty wake of the convoy, Jim sighs. With no idea how long the Commander is going to be away, keeping the Colony together is one thing - but keeping a lid on the politics is a much bigger ask. He turns back to the marketplace, where people are putting up the stalls they had to dismantle to accommodate the vehicles, and watches as Maddy and Yseult head across to Boylan's for a commiseration coffee or two. It all seems so peaceful; so tranquil.

Hopefully he can keep it that way.

Seeing her mood, Pete doesn't make one of his usual pithy comments, but instead offers her a cup of tea, "Fancy dinner at ours tonight?"

Yseult smiles a rather watery smile, "That's sweet of you - but Maddy and I are going to spend this evening blubbering over a casserole, followed by consoling ourselves by complaining about our husbands' collective foibles, further followed by more blubbering over dessert. The sooner we get it out of our systems, the sooner we can get on with things."

"Sounds lovely." He smiles, "The offer's open, though. You and Erin are always welcome."

"Be careful what you wish for, Pete. If you're not careful, you and Louis'll be sick of the sight of us."

He sits down, "I don't know about you - you've got a good reason to wish they weren't gone - but things are hardly fine and dandy here. The rumour machine's going into overdrive."

"What's happening?" At once, Yseult sits down as well, her expression now intent.

"When the news that Taylor was going OTG got out; well, let's just say that some quarters are looking to take advantage. No names, I'm afraid - Louis is a great eavesdropper, but he's not telepathic."

"It's okay - we've got that far." Yseult confirms, "God - this is all we need. Taylor's engaged elsewhere, and it's an opportunity to do something insane that'll wreck the Colony in his absence."

"When the cat's away?"

"Definitely. I'll let Jim know - he's in charge while Taylor's OTG. We can have a pow-wow and see if we can get in and pull this up before it goes out of control"

Pete's expression is doubtful, "If this is a possible takeover scenario, Max," He warns, "Then the only thing that's going to stop it is Taylor coming back. And that might not be enough." He stares at her expression, "God, I was just painting worst case scenario. Is it really that bad?"

"I don't know." She admits, quietly, "From what we've seen, though - it may well be that bad."

"And Taylor knows about this?"

"Yes - but he's not overly concerned. He can't be if he's leading this expedition."

"Then why haven't you stopped him from going?"

"Stop Commander Taylor from doing something, Pete?" She asks, "That's a 'no chance in hell' thing. Logic has been known to step in - but this involves the Phoenix group - and he'll never let that go unmet."

"What - them again? Are they back?"

"No, just legacy issues that we need to investigate."

"Presumably of a science-y nature, given that your hubby's on the team."

She nods.

"Max," Pete rests his hands on her shoulders, "Whatever it is - and I'm not asking you to tell me - just remember that we've all got your back. Whatever's going on with the Agri-teams, we're not in on it, and we aren't going to join up with it. Given that they're so careless around Louis tells me that they either think we will be - or they don't take us any more seriously than the occupation force did. If it gets to the point where people are picking sides - you can count on us to pick yours."

"I'm hoping it won't come to that, Pete." Yseult sighs, "But thanks."

While she's glad not to be in an empty house, it still feels odd to Maddy to be in a house that has a couple living in it - but only one member of that couple resident. God, if Max is missing Malcolm as much as she's missing Mark, tonight is likely to be liberally scattered with tissues. And their husbands haven't even been gone a day yet.

Elisabeth Rose and Erin are already busily engaged in some form of scenario that requires careful assembly of plastic blocks, that are wobbly enough to fall of their own accord - or at least they would if the girls didn't keep knocking them over, giggling and starting again. At the moment, they're oblivious to the fact that their fathers are not present. In time, however, she knows that Elisabeth Rose will be crying for Daddy, and there's no doubt that Erin will be doing the same. Mark dotes on his daughter, and the two have a special bond, so it's just a matter of time before the meltdown arrives. From the look on Max's face - a similar outcome with Erin is expected, too.

"This is ridiculous, isn't it?" she says, as they sit down at the dinner table with their meals, "I thought I was more collected than this."

"Me too," Yseult agrees, "But then, I was a hideous teary mess the first time I had an argument with Malcolm - and I thought that I was more collected than that then, as well. At least people are less freaked out when we do it - one of the weird things about being a woman. We think we shouldn't - but no one's surprised when we do."

"I think men get around it by losing their tempers all the time."

"I just wish Erin was old enough for me to explain it to her." Yseult says, looking across at her daughter, "At the moment, if she wants her daddy, and he's not here, then he's gone - and I can't tell her that he'll be back very soon, because he won't be. We're looking at about six weeks - possibly more. How do you explain that to someone who isn't quite a toddler yet?"

"I wish I knew." Maddy agrees, "I hope you don't mind having me as a mope-buddy. It's going to be tough."

"Don't I know it." Yseult sighs, "If you're happy to put up with my explosions of tears, then I'll be happy to put up with yours."

"Deal?"

"Deal."

Elisabeth is still at her desk when Jim comes in search of her. Not that he's surprised - they've had a flurry of accidents over the last day or so - nothing major, unlike that nasty one with the tree surgeon, but nonetheless, it's kept her from the work she's been intent on doing from the moment she got the chance to get Taylor back on a bio-bed.

"Anything?" he asks.

"Nothing yet." She admits, "His bloodwork is looking normal, though given what he was exposed to when he first got here, there are all sorts of things going on in there which have always been there, that I know of, and haven't been symptomatic - it's just the way that it is with him. I've looked at his liver results, and his kidneys - all fine, so I'm just about to move on to his brain scan.

"Sounds riveting."

She laughs, "I should be home later; you know the drill with Zoe."

He does now - though he cringes inside at the disastrous attempts to do so when he first got here, thanks to two years in Golad, "I know. Dinner, homework, bath, bed."

It's as he's opening the door that she calls him, "Jim - come and take a look at this."

He does as bid, but stares at the screen in bemusement, "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

Her expression is unnervingly grim, "Look at this," she points at the image, "This shouldn't be present - there are lesions here, and here. It looks like Taylor's experiencing some dieback of neurons in his cerebral cortex."

"And that means what?"

"Nothing good, I'm afraid. It explains why he's talking to himself - we're looking at a neurodegenerative disorder of some kind."

Jim looks blank.

"I think we might have been right when we were making comments about senility - if this is anything to go by, then there's something seriously wrong. Based on observed behaviours, it's possible that the Commander might have the first stages of Alzheimer's disease."

Now he gets it, and his eyes widen, "God no - are you sure?"

"Not entirely," she admits, "I'll have to do more work to be absolutely certain - without seeing more data, I can't give you any suggestion as to how quickly it's happening, or what's causing it."

"Can you cure it?" he asks, at once. God - he remembers asking Malcolm exactly the same thing about that amnesia virus.

"Without having the Commander here - I haven't the first idea."

"They should be at Outpost eight by now - that was where they were going to stop overnight."

"Definitely. I need to do more tests. It might be something we can stop - but if it isn't, he's leading a team out into the Badlands, and he's compromised." Her voice has gone much quieter now, for fear of being overheard.

"I'll call him." Jim promises.

Malcolm is most uncomfortable. The last time he was here, he was pitched into a hideous experience from which it took him at least a year to recover. Unfortunately, Outpost eight is the most convenient for the journey they are undertaking, but this time he is not alone with a man who wants him dead - far from it. Nonetheless, he has taken great care to find a bunk somewhere else this time around.

Bram is busy bringing Charlie up to date on the non-wood-related parts of their investigation. Most of it's going over her head, of course, but she listens intently, and seems largely to be taking it in at a basic level. To his much less oblivious eye, it's clear that they've really hit it off. Unless they get fed up with each other thanks to endless proximity over the next few weeks, it's quite likely that they'll be an item by the time they get back. Across the way, Paula Simpson, the nurse who has come with them, is strapping up Jane Lynott's ankle after she turned it on a stone outside.

No one's been here since he came here with Rob Stanley a year ago, though patrols have visited and stocked up the storage lockers with supplies in anticipation of the place being pressed back into service, so they're making use of those rather than breaking out the rations. Not the best of meals, perhaps, but they've got to get used to it - it'll be like this now until they get back to the Colony.

He looks across to where Mira is busy with Carter, carefully cleaning something that he can't recognise. Intrigued, he gets up to join them, "What's that? A navigational device of some kind?"

She nods, "It's a pocket sextant. That, a compass and my chronometer should keep us on track once we're beyond the beacons. Those topographic charts have helped."

"Thanks for stealing them." He says, with a mild smile, though it's clear to them all that he's still a bit wary of her.

"Thanks for busting into them." She answers, looking up from her work and startling the hell out of him by returning it.

"Is everyone bedded down?" Taylor asks as he sits in the main laboratory, reading through his inventory yet again.

"They are." Washington confirms, sitting down opposite him, on a sprung-mechanism chair that does not yield to her weight.

Terra Nova calling Outpost Eight. Come in.

He turns, "It's Shannon. What's he want?"

Terra Nova calling Outpost Eight. Taylor, are you there? Come in please.

"And you've only been gone eight hours." Washington grins, "It's probably nothing. He'll work it out himself. He's pretty damn clever; most of the time."

Taylor laughs at her joke, "Hell yeah - he's probably got some weepy message from Max or Maddy. It can wait until we get back."

She nods, "Don't worry about it. I don't know about you - but I think it's time to hit the hay."

Terra Nova calling Outpost Eight. Taylor, I know you're there. Pick up.

Terra Nova calling Outpost Eight. Come in.

Grinning, he gets up as she does, again without seeing that the chair neither rises, nor moves, "Good idea. Long day tomorrow." Yawning, he follows her out.