Lohan stood motionless under the metal shelter at the bus stop for exactly twenty-five minutes.
For an ordinary human, the wait at the border between Sector 1 and the residential waterfront of the Upper Zone would be an exercise in anxiety, after all, the person would likely be there for unconventional reasons, but for Lohan, that time was filled with a keen analysis of his surroundings.
He was leaning against a support pillar, his heavy backpack on his shoulders.
The air in that area was "sweet" compared to the smog of Sector 4, but it still carried a dirty remnant of the industrial zones surrounding the purification domes.
All around him, the flow of pedestrians never stopped.
