Aziz keeps to no faction and works The Yard as an Afghan who is moving like a banner that learned to walk. Out near the door marked K N L, Aziz keeps a small ritual that involves a cracked keycard with one corner missing and a quiet bow. When Aziz sits down anywhere near the satellite flowers field, conversation reorganises itself politely around them. Aziz wants to be remembered as useful, loyal, and only mildly responsible for what happened near the cracked freeway loop.