"Well, you never know, we might all get our wish," Avram said as he dumped the old water, rinsed out the sink briefly, and started refilling the bucket. "Maybe one of those mysterious underground floors is actually a cloning bay. Multiple Olivers, Cecilias, Edwins, Jacks, and Avrams available at the push of a button, ready to replace anyone who gets ornery. Like a Sam Rockwell in Moon situation. And frankly, considering the technology They obviously have available, I think we should campaign for a robot butler to take care of the dirty work for us," he added as he turned the water off and measured out the heavy-duty cleaner from the box on the counter. "The nice kind. Data, not Lore. I think it's bullshit that I'm being held prisoner by some shadowy group that's this advanced and I don't even get a good look at the toys."