It is an answer. It's just not one the young redhead likes. Which is very different.

As he continues, a look of realisation passes over Jacob's face. "Oh. We call those inventors. Scientists." Because electricity might be a power source, but it's use is in its infancy in Jacob's time. Maybe the City, when it was powered by electricity, had special scientists that just worked on maintaining it. But he doesn't know or care.

He lets the young man play on his phone- that is something Jacob knows about- and while he does that, he heads over to the vent, crouching by it. Wires seem to be fed through it too, and from what little he knows about electricity, it uses wires.

With the blade concealed in his leather gauntlet, be begins to pry the cover from its surrounds.

"Glad to hear it. I'm Jacob. Jacob Frye. I'll try not to get us killed."

And with that the cover is off, discarded and he's crawling into the darkness.