Grace blinks down at Agent Jean, one eyebrow ticking up for a moment before her expression smooths back out to placid. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that part,” she says mildly. “Seems to me like they’ve done a damn good job so far turning self-sufficient. Though, I guess I haven’t been around here for long. What’d’you figure the isle’s missing?”

[Internal thoughts]

If anyone knows about keeping an impoverished, sickly, isolated community running for years with no hope of resupply, it’s Grace Holloway. This isle has ample atmosphere, no danger of sudden decompression, and fresh water right on site. She hadn’t even realized some folks might think they’re in dire straits for materials.