Robert started heading for the door to the control room.  Claire watched his back, a frown plastered on her face.  “Where do you think you're going, Robert?”“I'm going to go make some popcorn,” Robert replied with a smile.  “I expect that whatever is happening in Lux is going to be extremely entertaining.

Your kind’s memories are tricky things,” she said finally. “They are like oil paintings. Even the first draft is an impression, an imperfect recreation of the event itself. Yet each time you access those memories, you paint a new layer overtop the old, adding small changes and tweaks. Those alterations grow and compound on themselves over time until the current painting almost doesn’t resemble the original.