Sinclair wakes up on the sofa with a crick in his neck and a cold cigarette still hanging between his fingers on the arm rest. It's brighter now, as bright as it can be for the sun to have risen and reach this far down into the ocean.

He sits up, rubs at his aching neck, waits for his vision to clear up . Last night seems distant and strange and he's sure he dreamed parts of it, but it's a new day and there are things he and Jack need to accomplish.

...Speaking of Jack. Where exactly is he?

Sinclair gets to his feet and winces audibly, forgetting his healing leg. "Hey, kid?" he calls out. Nothing, just silence.

He looks around the room, still hazy from sleep, and spots the note on the opposite end of the sofa.

Not much of an education system in Kansas, is there?

Still, at least Jack thought to leave a note. Sinclair feels the panic fizzling away and he limps back to his room to get dressed. The bathyspheres are faster, but after yesterday's events he has no problem with staying as far away from the Olympus Heights docks as possible. It might take longer with a hurt leg, but it'll be considerably safer.

He arrives downstairs at the docks of Persephone and sees Jack at the electrical panel in the back of one of the spheres, intensely focused and fingers working expertly on the tubes and wiring inside.

"Where'd you learn to spell, son?" Sinclair says. Oh, and good morning.