Lisa is standing in her bedroom with A.G. She's yammering on: "My husband loved to read...." A.G. says, "I know." Whoops! Busted! He stammers, "Grisham, right?" Ooh, nice save. Lisa picks up her precious love letters and says, "It's spread to these. They used to be letters. Now they're blank." A.G. takes them from her and, even though his expression is as totally blank and vacant as the pages he holds, I can guess he's supposed to be feeling some kind of melancholy at the sight of these stupid love letters his wife/widow still reads and treasures. Too bad he can't act and SHOW US this. He sniffs a bit and Lisa says, "Do you think they'll come back?" A.G., spacing out, says, "Excuse me?" Oh, you oaf. They stand less than a foot away from each other, and though Margaret Colin is throwing out sparks like a buzz saw on sheet metal, all A.G. can do is stand there and stare at her. He says, "No matter what, you will always remember them." The electricity half-crackles between them, sort of, and they look into each other's eyes.
Lisa and A.G. go back downstairs after nothing happens. Heather dully says that the crowd of reporters is leaving: "They can't take notes!" Lisa says that the print is gone from her newspaper by the time she brings it to the table, Heather can only do homework on the computer, and remarks, dryly, "Thank god for TV." AMEN to that, sister. Dr. M., all ostrich-with-its-head-in-the-sand-y, repeats his earlier baloney about there being a scientific explanation for everything, and they leave.
In the limo, Dr. M. is thinking:. "It's almost acting like a virus -- a disease. A plague." Go ahead, load it up. A.G. points out that the one connection between the medical library and his old home is nothing else but Dr. M. thinks differently: "You're the point of origin." Dr. M. should make some kind of horrified face or an "auugh!" noise, but he's too repressed, I mean, um, dignified for that.
The screen goes black and white type reads, "Somewhere in the Pentagon." The assembled generals, including a lady three-star general (progress?) are sticking pushpins in a map of America. Dr. M. comes in, still clueless as to what could be causing this thing. The lady general says it's "nanobots," and asks, "Would you explain it to my colleagues?" Hee hee, that's the oldest trick in the book. Dr. M. says that nanobots are to the future are "what the transistor was to the fifties and sixties." You still aren't explaining it, dude. Okay, they're "microscopic molecular machines," that replace the functions of an immune system. They were created to live in A.G. and to speed along his healing process. They've moved outside him, though, and now replicate and eat ink. The more ink they eat, the faster they replicate. This makes the tribbles episode on Star Trek look important; at least there, there was a danger of being overpopulated, or overpowered by tribbles. Here, the danger is books disappearing, and thanks to technology, it CAN'T HAPPEN. THEY CAN MAKE VEGETABLE-BASED INKS, you know. The lady general makes a joke and tells Dr. M., "You are the author of our current plight." Yuk yuk. Dr. M. still doesn't look horrified enough for me.