"Oh... right..." Walter gives a distant nod, realizing he's definitely been told this in some form. Though he didn't want to cause upset, he's glad that Pyotr at least can say things about his past that seem to be real, like that talk he had with Lucy on the network once... He blinks again, trying to remember if he's ever heard of any particular revolutionary comrade besides, well, that guy. If Stavrogin even in Pyotr's wildest dreams hadn't wanted to be there, then someone else must have been writing the papers that Pyotr was helping distribute, right? Not to take that story entirely at face value, but. It was quite common on the barge for there to be a dramatic few weeks or days leading up to one's death and abduction, a real Shakespearean final act. That impression was reinforced by the "special person" raving about his depravity, but Walter can't quickly glean names from his memory, further limited by his own status during the flood. Maybe Pyotr's collaborators really were that detached...

"I guess I just thought there were more of you. Or at least that there used to be. And—there should be," he concludes earnestly. "Who can keep up with you."