Shane sat on the edge of one of the sofas, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands neatly. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to lay out the options and you get to pick one. Option one; we turn it back on and try to trace the signal back to wherever it’s coming from, running the risks of being backtraced, if we haven’t been already.” He eyed the collective as he spoke. “Option two; we smash the transmitter, bury our heads in the dirt, and pretend it never happened.”