Ezra didn't notice Beau's approach—a vague perturbation at the edges of probability in an area that he wasn't even looking at closely, another thrum of a mind in a building that was full of them. He'd just determined a few useful predictions about the next few hours when the whole array of contingencies juddered askew by a few sigmas. Generally, a change that sudden meant that he should probably check back with the present to see if something had changed. When he was tuned in like this you could throw a basketball at his head and he wouldn't notice, but if he caught the slipstream of changing futures in time he could process the information in time to duck. Usually. That was one of the things he'd been working on in training.
But as he flicked his mind back to the present, it didn't look like there was trouble. He was blocking the door like a moron, but that happened a lot. "Hey, sorry, hi," he said, taking a step away from the other man, who had leaned in a little close. Ezra mentally rolled time back a few seconds to see if he'd missed anything important: a question that sounded like it was 50% in English, and the seizure thing.
"Yeah, sorry, no, I'm not having a seizure, thanks, I'm okay," he said to the guy. It was a fair question, one that Ezra was used to. "I was just about to start a training thing and was trying to see if the program was gonna go easy on me or not. Um, I'm a precog," he added by way of explanation. "I'm Ezra, hi. New. Newish. But if you had plans to use the Hologym, that's cool, I can totally get out of your way here..."