Alias
Parity

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Spy Vs. Spy

Sydney's Apartment Of Emotional Rescue. The place is gorgeous, by the way. Sigh. I miss the space that's available in LA. Francie and Sydney are talking. Francie doesn't understand why her boyfriend Charlie isn't more excited about getting an offer from a super-prestigious law firm. Sydney reminds her that Charlie's probably nervous and scared about the job, since he's the first in his family to go to college. Francie says her dad told her the same thing, then expositions that it's weird when someone you love isn't telling you everything. Hold onto your hats, kids. I sense that that refreshing breeze of foreshadowing could possibly turn into a gale-force storm.

Sydney changes the subject and tells Francie how lucky she is to be able to ask her dad for advice. She tells Francie that she saw her dad recently, and it was empty -- or no, actually, it was full, full of awkwardness and lame pauses. Okay, it's too easy. Fishes, barrel, shooting; fox, henhouse, you get the drift. Pass. Sydney blathers about how she had hope that she and her dad could connect. Francie encourages her to try to forgive and make it happen.

Cut to Spy Daddy exiting his car. Sydney runs up to him. He tells her she shouldn't be there. Sydney says she has a thousand questions keeping her awake at night. And I have a show full of clichés to recap, so hurry up, missy. Spy Daddy grits, "Then take something." Spy Daddy is a very Valley of the Dolls kind of guy, I can tell. Sydney asks if he knew SD-6 would try to recruit her, and was her mother's death an accident. Spy Daddy bitches her out for approaching him so carelessly.

SD-6. The usual Gang of Four sit around the table. Sloane tells them that the Mueller project they stole from Taipei was actually based on a design from an architect/genius named Milo Rambaldi, who died in 1496 after being excommunicated for heresy. Sketches lost to history blah blah scattered all over the world blee blee no one knows what's left. Apparently, the dude was so advanced he was sketching schematics for a cell phone during the time of the Ottoman Empire. Sloane agrees that it sounds ridiculous, and tells them he's not a believer in the power of the pyramid and he's not a big granola fan. He says this kind of stuff makes him roll his eyes, and then he rolls his eyes. Kidding. He says he rolled his eyes until his eyes came across something that looks like machine code. He reveals a screen full of 0s and 1s. Marshall corrects them by explaining that the concept of 0s and 1s are as ancient a concept as…something else really, really, really old. Blah.

Sloane says they have to know what the rest of the code produces, since it's incomplete. They have one half, and the other half resides in the private collection of Eduardo Benegas, a Spanish venture capitalist. You know what? We don't even know what the first half of the code points to, so who cares? And does this relate to the Mueller project, or to something else entirely? I'm not really sure. I was trying to pluck my eyebrows when they were discussing this nonsense. They could save a lot of money by saying, "Hey, Sydney -- this week, why don't you go jump over a lot of self-consciously Byzantine obstacles using neat-o gadgets while wearing some knock-off gowns and Designer Imposters perfume. Sound good?" Bam. There's five minutes saved, easy. Anyway -- Rambaldi sketch. Benegas keeps it in a vault in his private museum. Marshall volunteers that Benegas owns the largest porn collection in Madrid. I bet Marshall knows all kinds of fun, vaguely depressing trivia like that. Everyone looks vaugely horrified. Marshall stammers that he thought it was interesting.

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Alias

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