Mindmistress: Vicki! Out! I think it's drawing data from you... Vicki: Gone, Boss. Baby: 'It'? Mindmistress: Who are you? Did you use Smith's hair as a genetic sample--to grow your current body? Baby: Bingo.

Mindmistress: Why a baby? Baby: What's less threatening then the infant of the species? Yet--what's better equipped to learn new environments than a baby? Mindmistress: Clever. Seriously creepy, though. Baby: Creepy? Moi?

Baby: But this is a pocket dimension of your devising--correct? I can sense the larger reality you're cut off from--I prefer my realities--natural. Mindmistress: Wait! What are you--? Mindmistress: Whoa! Lorelei's apartment. You didn't destroy--? Baby: No! Your pocket dimension's fine. I just prefer a 'natural' reality--the way some people prefer fresh air to air conditioning. Mindmistress: Uh...right.

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