"Okay," says Castor, nodding. "Okay. More than one?" The word faction is telling. It's not unified. There's some kind of opposition. What is he getting into?

"Can you tell me about - actually, can we sit?" He looks around, scanning the surrounding area, and spots lines of benches along a path, more in the shade. "Over there, out of the heat. I'm a little. Well, it was October where I was, and I was on the coast." He shifts his coat and jacket over his arm as if to prove it.