Corn stalks yield, crunching, under his steps as he moves closer to her. "I don't know," he answers her question honestly, glancing around to determine that they're the only two who appear to be in this predicament. "I just came back online. Still trying to get my bearings. Are you all right?"

If the Porter's acting up (and what else could this be, other than some new ordeal?) then surely someone's posted on the network about it by now. Knock Out queries internally for the familiar comm line only to pull up short, realizing that his neural link with his imPort communicator -- the one that routes the network through his processor -- seems to also be offline.

He accesses his subspace to retrieve the actual device, but finds the spot where it should be... empty.

"I don't have access to the imPort network," he tells her. "And my device is gone too."