Pictures, images, memories, bioloids: everything but the real deal. Which -- if the baby's not his -- is as close to the truth as we'll get. I think this is where God steps in, honestly. Aeryn on the screen turns to John, her voice like an echo: "I believe Katratzi to be some sort of base. Highly guarded." John blinks, not the least because VCRs are usually the province not of God but of his opposite number, and rewinds the tape again. "...Officer Sun?" She does not speak. If she could smile, she would, and we'd see her again the last way we saw her: unspeaking, unable to talk about the baby. Unable to bring up any emotion at all. Shocked into nothingness. John stares intently at Aeryn on the screen. Aeryn: "Uh...uh...uh..." She tilts her head, blinks; however long this is taking you know for her it's twice, five times as long. "Yes," she smiles. "I was just thinking. Well...there's no way to be sure at this point. However, our physiologies do appear to be very similar." Remarkably so, he notes, and she nods. Several times. Out of her depth in every way.