I guess it just feels like there should've been someone to catch it for you before they could. An assistant or something.

But then again, maybe that was just an unintended byproduct of their childhoods, too. All of their information and news and culture had come filtered through Reginald, redacted and deemed Academy-appropriate. So news unfettered and running loose by itself was unusual; not a tightly-controlled, clinical intake, in drips and drabs.

Even to this day, he was still finding these small consequences buried under his skin, crumbs scattered in their father's wake.

At least here we have these communicators. Portable phones.