"I already have more than enough of a reason to want to pickle myself." Complains Ricki, dourly. "You can't replace smoking with drinking when what you want is to smoke and drink."

Instead, you over-exercise. Other arm, up and over for stretching, while he considers Kovacs right back. Same uniform jumpsuit, and difficult to say whether he got that stubble here, or what he'd look like back home. Mostly, though Ricki notices the way that he watches. He isn't just meeting his eyes, or even searching his expression, he's looking at details.

"When did you get here, then?"