After his requisite five days, Seph traded the observation room with the squeaky furniture for a room in the temporary lodging area of the medical station. It was essentially a hotel suite, complete with a sleek chrome coffee maker and a bucket for ice, as well as a variety of teas and snacks.

He wasn’t much in the mood to eat and instead he lay on the bed in his pajamas and old sweatshirt, now that his belongings had been disinfected and delivered to him. Bria had arrived and was impatiently awaiting the end of her own observation period—she had sent him a few messages about current job openings at her university on Acinos, to which he had not replied.

It was too much. He ignored another pair of messages from Bria in his inbox and messaged Antony instead: Hey, how are you?

Barely a minute passed before Antony called him, his face appearing on the tablet screen. He was curled up in bed, his hair unkempt.

“Are you feeling okay?” Seph asked.

“I guess so. The doctors changed the bandages on my arm today. They said it was healing since they removed the weird clay and some of the normal tissue nearby,” he said, holding up his bandaged arm. He shook his head. “I just don’t understand how it’s possible my arm could transform into that. How can I know that won’t happen to the rest of me?”

Seph paused as he considered what to say to that. “I don’t have an answer. Unknown technology can behave in strange ways. Yet I know it’s a good thing this hasn’t spread, and the longer you remain stable, the better.”

“Yeah, Bria quoted that stat at me,” he said with a snort. “That ‘95% of people who are stable five days after injury from unknown technology eventually recover.’ Didn’t make me feel better. I’m still in limbo here, not knowing if I’m going to be fine or dead.”

A chill ran down his spine at the other man’s words, and he drew in a sharp breath. “I apologize Antony—I wasn’t trying to overstep.”

Antony hesitated, his eyes flicking away from the screen. “You didn’t say anything wrong. Bria quoted that stat at me like it should make me okay with everything that happened, and I snapped at her.” There was a tightness to his expression that looked like barely concealed misery.

“Bria might mean well, but she isn’t great at providing emotional support,” Seph said.

“Yeah, but I still shouldn’t be snapping at everyone,” Antony said. “It’s obvious I haven’t been the best colleague on this expedition.”

“Oh, neither have I.” He leaned back against the pillows, staring absently at the coffeemaker in the corner as he recalled their quarrels back at the research station. “If you’re talking about getting combative during lab meetings, well, I’ve contributed to that as well,” Seph said. “I want you to know that I enjoy your company, and even with everything that happened, I’m still glad to have worked with you.”

Antony’s eyes widened. “I’m glad you feel that way, but I still want to apologize for my less than friendly behavior.”

“Well, naturally, I accept your apology. You helped me in ways you didn’t have to do, like when I fell into that crystal pit,” Seph said, feeling himself flush in the face and ears. “I’ve seen plenty that makes me want to get to know you properly.”

“I want to get to know you better, too.” He huffed, and his solemn expression broke into a small smile. “It’ll give me something to look forward to after this.”

Seph woke the next morning to a message from Bria—she finished her observation period and had moved to a temporary lodging room. He walked the halls of the medical station, passing the food court area. Something about the gleaming white tile and lunch crowd reminded him of his time on research vessels.

The crush of people had been intense—more people lived on those ships for years at a time than he thought possible, all there to do research. He’d slept on a bunk bed with three others in the room. It had been too much; too many people, too little privacy.

The medical station had a white, sterile quality, but it was far larger than any research vessel he’d been on. He walked for a solid fifteen minutes before arriving in the next lodging area, and Bria greeted him a moment after he knocked on her door.

“Hey, glad to see you,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Her auburn hair was in a braid, and she wore a well-fitting blouse and slacks, looking ready to give a seminar. Her suitcase was open on the bed, things strewn around nearby. “When are you flying out?” Bria asked.

Seph’s eyebrows quirked up. “Flying out? I don’t even know where I’m going next.”

“I thought I told you, rather, I sent you a message about this.”

“Yeah, I haven’t been in my inbox for a few days. Bria, what is going on?”

She looked genuinely confused. “Nothing’s going on. I’m leaving in a few hours. I’m taking some time off to rest, but I’d rather do it somewhere other than here.”

Seph’s reply came automatically. “Antony’s still in here.”

“I spoke with him about my plans. He said he understood.” She paused. “He said you hadn’t made plans yet, so I assumed you might stay for a few more days before flying out.”

He searched her face, finding it only calm and dispassionate as she looked up at him. Frustration burned in his chest. “Bria, I’m staying until he’s out. I thought we were sticking together.”

“We can’t see him in person, anyway. Really, Seph, he didn’t seem upset. I would have stayed if he asked me, but he didn’t,” she said evenly. “Are you upset with me?”

“I don’t know. I’m just upset.” He slumped down against the arm of the sofa. “We barely understand anything about what happened in the ruins. I mean, those crystal samples we went back for? It was for nothing. We had them examined by an advanced research lab here and there was no clear answer,” Seph said.

“Well, that’s not entirely true. Goodness, Seph, I did message you about this.”

“What?”

“It’s not a satisfying answer, but the crystals have precedent in the literature,” Bria said. She folded her arms, leaning against the dresser. “There is some evidence of crystals decaying as we observed, though there was nothing to suggest any infectious properties. One paper proposed that said crystals might have been used as a type of information storage device.”

“But none of that would explain what happened to Antony’s arm,” Seph said. “How can we be sure that something won’t happen to us?”

“Right, but you and I are healthy by all objective metrics.” She spoke slowly, in a way that sounded like she was trying to be calming, but wasn’t. “Antony is stable, and you know the statistic. Over 95% of people who are stable five days after an encounter with unknown technology go on to recover.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And Antony knows that too.” Bria looked at him, her gaze sharp. “Please don’t take me to be unaffected by this. Losing Kendra hurts. To have an injury as bad as Antony’s and a death on an expedition? It hurts, Seph. How can I not feel responsible?”

“It wasn’t your fault, Bria. I wish is that you would have listened to Antony and Kendra when they spoke with you, but I doubt it would have changed anything.” He stared down at his hands. “And I’m the one who wanted to go back into the ruins.”

“I think it was a reasonable decision, given the knowledge we had,” Bria said.

“You saw something in the ruins, didn’t you?” he asked. “When the rocks were falling, and those crystals came toward you. When I fell down into that pit, my memories of losing my first tenure track position came rushing back. It was intense, much more intense than a normal memory.”

She frowned at him. “I have no explanation for what I experienced, that much I can’t deny.” She paused, and it was clear from her folded arms and rigid posture she wasn’t keen on continuing this line of conversation. “This doesn’t help much, but the funding company found no fault with how we ran the expedition. Though they have no plans to sponsor further research there, given everything that happened.”

She set a couple of shirts in the suitcase on the bed, pressing them down with her hands. “If Antony is interested in a prosthetic, they will cover it. However, I thought better than to broach that topic with him. I will let the company reach out to him, and he can decide what he wants to do.”

Seph nodded; he wouldn’t bring that up with Antony yet, either. “So you are taking time off?” he asked.

“Right,” Bria said. “I have my commitments on Acinos: my students, my lab, my … colleagues there. I am taking time off, but I’d like to check in with them. It won’t help me just to sit around.”

“I’m not suggesting that. But I can’t jump right back into work,” Seph said, crossing his arms.

“Have you considered returning to the university in the future?”

“Yeah. I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

She carefully folded another shirt, a pink one he had never seen her wear. “If you don’t want to work there, I understand. But if you need somewhere familiar to go, the city is lovely at this time of year.”

He tugged at the skin over his knuckles and smiled at her, unsure if it reached his eyes. “I’ll think about it.” Seph stood, smoothing his hands over his pants. “Shall I come by to see you off later?”

She shook her head. “Oh, well, no. I’m going to head down to the docks and see if I can grab a seat on a flight. I imagine I can catch something this afternoon.”

“Ah. In that case, I’ll see you off now. Safe travels,” Seph said. He stepped toward her, expecting an embrace, but she jabbed her hand out to shake his.

“I’ll see you later, Seph,” she said.

As it happened, Antony’s room had a guest area. Antony informed him about it, and Seph made a lap around the lodging wing before heading there, to burn off some nervous energy. A door in the visitors’ wing opened to a small area with a glass window and a few chairs. Antony raised the covering over the glass and waved at him.

Seph gestured at the window and sat on the chair beside it. “This is weird. But it’s good to see you in person, even if there’s glass between us.”

“Yeah, sure drives home the fact that I’m still ‘under observation.’ Still preferable to talking through the tablet,” Antony said. “Though, to be honest, I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“I didn’t want you to be stuck here alone. I was hoping to provide some meager company,” Seph said lightly. “Besides, we came here together, so they have to give me the option of staying until you’re out.”

Antony flipped his hair out of his eyes and chewed his lip. “I wanted to tell you, Bria asked me if I was okay with her leaving. I said I was.”

“Are you, though?”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. He pulled up a chair, slouching in it with his legs over the arm. “It was obvious she wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. Far be it from me to stop her. She and I aren’t friends, and she’s not somebody I’d go to for emotional support.”

Antony grunted as he sank down into the chair. Waves of hair fell into his eyes again and he swept it out of the way. There was something undeniably attractive about the casual gesture, how he held himself. Though disheveled, Antony still had a languid confidence about him.

“How did you meet Bria, anyway?” Antony asked.

“We met back when we were postdocs at the same university. Mostly saw each other at conferences after that, until I ended up as an independent researcher in her lab a few years ago,” Seph said, unsure if he kept all the bite out of his tone.

“You and I met at that one conference, right? We went out to dinner in a group.”

“You were at the far end of the table, though, as I recall, we didn’t talk.”

“Yeah, I can’t hear well in restaurants like that. Too much background noise.”

Seph raised his eyebrows, a smile crossing his lips. “I still remember that chalk talk you gave in the hallway at 1:30 in the morning.”

Antony sat up, laughing. “Oh god, you might remember that better than I do. I was absolutely in space that night.”

“Yeah, well, I remember it was a better talk than half the keynotes at that conference.”

“That’s probably true. I think Kendra gave a talk in one of the specialty seminars. She’s always been a great presenter.”

“You two were close, weren’t you?” Seph asked.

“We were friends,” he said. There was a softness to his tone, like their friendship was something he treasured.

“Did you know her family at all?”

“No, not really. Why?”

He sighed. “I’ve been thinking about how Bria said she had few living relatives. Her parents must not have been very old when they passed away,” he said. “Goodness knows I hope my folks are around for at least another hundred years.”

“I met Kendra at a rough time,” Antony said. “We worked in a lab together some ten or eleven years ago. Her folks passed away not too long after we started working together. I wasn’t great emotional support, but she and I could talk to each other like people. Y’know, not having to pretend everything was great when it wasn’t.” Antony fiddled with a button on his sleeve. “I met her husband, but I didn’t know him well. She left that job because they were moving to the other side of the galaxy for his work. It was a surprise to see her again a few years later.”

“Oh, yeah,” Seph said, drumming his fingers on his chin. “She told me a bit about that.”

Antony looked up at the ceiling, a flush hitting his cheeks. “Did she tell you about the time I asked her out?”

“She did. I mean, I was the nosy one; I asked her if you two had ever dated.”

Antony eyeballed him. “You what? You just straight up asked her that? Why?”

Blood rushed to Seph’s face. “Well, you two seemed so comfortable around each other, I wondered if it was something like old flames getting back together,” he said.

“We were never flames in the first place. I didn’t realize she’d just lost her husband when I asked her out. Don’t know why I couldn’t see it,” Antony said.

“Not everyone shows their grief.”

“Still, it was arguably stupid of me to ask her out. I liked her, but I wasn’t in the right head space for a serious relationship then.” He slid back down in his chair. “The timing never worked out. Over the years we worked together, she lost three of the most important people in her life. By this expedition, the window for any relationship between us had closed,” Antony continued. “But I appreciated her companionship. It isn’t something I’ve had a lot of, either inside or outside of romantic relationships.”

“Working with her on our expedition, she seemed very focused,” Seph noted.

“Yeah, I agree. She had this firm sense of focus on research when we worked together five years ago. This expedition, even more so. I guess it finally makes sense to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“She told me recently that her lifespan couldn’t be extended. It was genetic, a genetic resistance to lifespan extension treatments.”

“I didn’t know that,” Seph said, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

“I think she might have been trying to cram as much experience into her life as she could,” Antony said. “Guess there is something to be said for living every day like it’s your last. But even during this expedition, it felt like she had this drive, like research was the center of her universe. Something she could hold on to no matter what else happened.”

Seph nodded. “If research is the one thing left for you, wouldn’t you do anything in your power to base your life around it?”