"Kyle." Philip reaches out to take his hand gently. "It's not like any of us have a future. Historian, participant, non-Travelers." He gives a small shrug. "Historians? We're well looked after, and yes, sometimes it was like being a lab experiment but sometimes... I felt like I was a superhuman. I was probably near thirty, if not older, when I was sent back. One of my team is over two hundred years old, he's outlived two generations of his family, but when he was sent back, his host is barely eighteen. Every human in those Shelters knows they are expendable, if it saves humanity and the Earth. In fact, if we succeed, we'll never be born."

Most of humanity worked to only two causes. Supporting what was left of humanity, or the Travelers program.

"Philip's fine. I spent a long time getting used to being called Philip, in preparation."