"There we go. Let's hope in some illicit affair," he said, with a wink. "But let's wait for the genetic report. We just need to find a geneticist, right? I think that's the name. We're running short of those. We're running short of a lot of things: universities, hospitals, the internet. Some of the old people miss the internet, but I don't even remember it."
Derek chuckled. "I am; I'll be twenty seven in May. Ancient, basically," he joked. "But yeah, he was, and we've tried to do the same for the kids we've found. It's why my troop is so young. I try to train them as soon as they are deemed too old to stay at the base, and we give them ranks, and then hope that they don't die," he said with a sigh.
"Sure, I'll send a message when we get back, but for now, we have more tunnels to check." He kept walking, doing his duty even though he knew this was pretty useless. "If by stopping you mean 'kill them', then I'm all for it."