Linden stares at the water bottle with initial resentment, but he takes it reluctantly, uncapping it and wincing as he refills his shot glass with it and downs the empty-tasted fluid that is incidentally necessary for his survival.

"If you want to know something about 6..." he mumbles, "rainy days are national holidays. Water's rationed. This is a full day," he lies firmly, holding up the empty shot glass. "Therefore, I can definitely do another shot before the hour's over."

He's looking for an Avox, even as two or three people passing him seem to, again, mistake him for one.

"I don't know what is going on with Stephen. I've always been a screw-up, but this isn't like him. Your guess is really as good as mine."