“I have told Grasshopper, when he was in my grasp, that part of my job was to tell no one what it was,” the Caretaker hummed, staring at the still forms of Brass Eagle and Mug. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid I am too giddy to refrain from it.” For once, there was emotion in his voice.

“You see, Brass Eagle…” He leaned in. “I have many tanks of floating ‘clones’, as you might call them. That is indeed the technical term the governments give them, yes.

“Ah, yes, Mug, the governments know about this. In fact, they sponsor it. You see, every citizen is cloned exactly alike when he or she is born. This is for identification and health purposes. But I have the unique position of keeping the extra-special ones, the clones with the potential in them that the original inhabitants have as well. That is why you see subjects such as yourself here.

The Caretaker paused. “Now, there is a slight fact the governments don’t know. In every clone I get, I inject a little of myself into each one.”