Obviously he doesn't believe in that kind of thing, and he'd mostly ignored the strange rock when assessing the usefulness of his supplies. If anything, he'd briefly suspected it of being some kind of bug, considering the incredibly suspicious stitching on the backpack, and had considered destroying it right there. But then he'd decided to hold off until he knew more about this place. Tim has been pretty forthcoming with his answers, limited and infuriating as they may be, so what reason would he have to screw with him now?

He pulls out his own rock, brushing a thumb over the tiny display. "Can't say that I have," he answers Tim's question absentmindedly. Something that functions like a walkie-talkie, on every person? That could be incredibly useful.

"But Number Five usually does the job. So you can speak to anyone with this thing as long as you know their name?"