Scotland. One wasn't supposed to express an interest in the world outside New London and everything that had come before Indra was, of course, subpar and uncivilized - but Henry had heard of Scotland before. He had visited a Savage Lands installation in what was supposed to be an urban jungle up north once.
His memory was imperfect, but he thought the estates had looked somehow both and less decrepit than this place. This hotel.
Molly's question brought him back to the present. Henry frowned. "Soma," he told her, as though it was obvious. To him, it was. But this place in not-Scotland, where people were allegedly pulled out of time at random, seemed unlikely to provide that all-important feature of an orderly society. He started to hold out the dispenser pen and then thought better of it.
If there was no soma produced here, then his limited supply was all he had. He blanched at the thought.
"It is - a form of medication." Already it was having a calming effect, helping him think more clearly as he gripped the edge of the reception desk and began pushing himself to his feet. He made it there, but swayed, the effects of the blood loss still making themselves known even if the cause had been dealt with. "Thank you again. If you could just point me toward the exit...?"