Jones purses her lips. "I suppose that's true," she says. "I suppose if the city chooses who ends up here, then it might just—but no, I know someone was brought here with his young daughter. I'd peg her at maybe between five and seven." A frown comes to her face. "I don't know why precisely a city with such a heavily adult population would have stories like that. Those stories are made up for children..." Curious. And slightly distressing.

She glances at what she's got in her own hand. "Induce and Justify..." Oh, that's familiar. She's seen those in the Militia office. The gist has been briefly explained to her—a cult that tries to convince people to go out into the fog in hopes of going home. Of course, she's certain that the Militia position isn't the whole truth, but the literature speaks for itself and it's more or less common knowledge that going into the fog is best described as suicide.

The important part, though, is that there's something going on here that's bigger than the ants. She's got a feeling.

"Hey—I'm going to put out a CiD call real quick. You can keep looking through the papers..."