The bed squeaked as Seph pressed down on the overstuffed suitcase, trying to squash his clothing flat enough for him to shut it. But the top popped open again, and a thick gray sweater bulged out. With a sigh, he flopped onto the bed.

Another chapter of his life was ending. No more tenure-track stress, no more overcrowded research vessels, no more working with Bria. Maybe he would come back to research in some capacity, but not now. He needed to rest, and that wasn’t going to happen here.

So it would be a new chapter for Seph, and he had aspired to start it with at least a few pieces of clothing that weren’t absurdly loose. Unfortunately, the jeans and shirts and sweaters may have fit him, but they didn’t fit in the suitcases he had brought. He rolled over to stare at the ceiling. There was so much uncertainty, so much that still felt unfinished. He wanted to see Antony, but there was a lot they needed to talk about, and his stomach clenched at the prospect of his anxiety flaring up again and making things worse.

He hadn’t wanted to leave Bria on such a sour note either, and he sighed. It wasn’t like he could leave until he bought another suitcase, anyway.

His wrist buzzed, alerting him to a new message—to his surprise, it was an email from Isabelle.

Hi Seph, she wrote. I’d love to catch up with you while you’re in town. I’m free this afternoon. If you have time, you’re welcome to swing by my office. Otherwise, let’s find a time!

He closed the email, not wanting to commit to anything until he could talk to another former colleague without wanting to throw up from anxiety. Leaving his hotel room would at least be a start, so he stood, combed his hair, and pulled on his coat.

The streets were blissfully empty when he left the hotel, and he convinced himself he could head for a coffee shop first. It was one he had visited many times before, and it buzzed with low chatter. The line was short, with most students in class now, and he surveyed the menu. A photo of a bright pink drink caught his eye. It reminded him of Kendra.

She’d kept a bag of the powder in the research station, and it had always smelled good to him, bright and mellow all at the same time. But he never tried it or asked her about it, or even talked to her as much as he wished he had.

He ordered one and walked in the general direction of the biology building. Not directly there, of course. Too much purposeful, direct movement was likely to send him back into a panic, so he approached slowly, sipping the drink. It was as delicious as he imagined, fruity and creamy, and a little salty.

Ten minutes later, he’d finished the drink and stood in view of the biology building. He tossed the empty paper cup in a recycling container and stepped inside. The warm lighting comforted him as it filtered in through the windows, illuminating dust motes in the air.

Glass cases with specimens lined the hall, and the doors on the first floor led to teaching labs. Seph made it as far as the second floor before he sat down on the first bench he saw, staring down at his feet. The leather of his shoes was splashed with mud and salt, which had also made their way up onto his slacks.

“Oh hello there!” came a bright voice from his right.

He craned his head in that direction to see Isabelle approaching, her heels clacking against the floor. She wore a white blouse and a neat pair of tan pants in a fabric that swished and flowed as she walked.

“Hi, Isabelle. I got your message, and I was coming to visit. Just needed to sit down for a moment,” he said and let out an awkward bark of a laugh.

“Are you alright? We can always meet another time.”

“No, now is good. Things have been odd, is all.”

“Tell me about it if you like,” she said. “I’m up on the third floor. Just popped down here to talk to one of the new professors, so your timing is great.”

He nodded and followed her up the stairs, watching her dark hair bounce as she walked. Her confidence and self-possession had only gotten more pronounced since he had worked at the university, and he felt a friendly shade of envy. Her office was large, with a bright red sofa in it. She sat down and he took his seat next to her.

“I’m glad you could come by. I was hoping to chat with you one on one, since you were in town,” she said.

“About anything in particular?”

“Not necessarily. But I wanted to make you an offer that if you need someone to talk to, I am here. I know you and I weren’t close, but what happened on your expedition was exceptionally difficult. I have lost colleagues before, and I understand something of that pain,” Isabelle said. She waved her hands. “In any case, I have also been informed I’m excellent at connecting people. So if you need an introduction or recommendation to anyone, career-wise or otherwise, I’m also happy to provide that.”

“Thank you—that’s kind of you.”

“I’m happy to help. I mean that, Seph.” She watched his face with an expression that was equally intense and sincere. “Did something happen since you have been back in town?”

“Bria and I talked,” he said. “We were finishing some paperwork, and her students showed up in the lab. Once they left, she and I got into a … discussion, and I said some things I regret. Bria, well, she reacted. It was not good.”

Isabelle exhaled sharply. “To be honest, that doesn’t surprise me. Do you want to talk about it? Anything will be just between you and me.”

Seph leaned back against the couch, running his thumb over a rough patch of skin on his opposite palm. “How much did Bria tell you about our expedition?”

“She told me your research findings. The caves, the ruins, the machines. That you found unknown technology there, and your colleague Antony lost his arm. That she blames herself both for what happened to Antony and Kendra.” Isabelle paused. “She said she saw things in the ruins she didn’t understand, and I believe all of it has left her shaken.”

“What happened to Antony wasn’t her fault,” he said. “I wish she would have listened to him sooner, but I don’t believe there was any way to save his arm. As for Kendra …” He sighed. “That hurts. I still think about that last day in the ruins, and I think about her. Talking to me, being friendly and personable—heck, being a mediator when Antony and I couldn’t be in a room together without sniping at each other.”

He met Isabelle’s gaze, and she watched him with kindness and understanding on her face. “I am trying to deal with my grief over Kendra in my way. I don’t know what Bria’s feeling, but from the outside, it looks like she shut down and went into busywork mode as a coping mechanism. One that I know doesn’t work.”

“Oh.” Isabelle pursed her lips, clearly thinking through something. “I won’t betray Bria’s trust, but I can say that she was far more emotionally affected by the expedition than what you may have seen.” She clasped her hands. “Bria spoke with me after you and Antony left the planet, and she was distraught. Frankly, I became upset as well, as communication was shaky and I couldn’t understand whether she was in danger.”

“She didn’t always shut down like this—wasn’t so walled off,” Seph said. “Then she turned serious, and everything became about her career.”

“You may know she and I joined the university at the same time,” Isabelle said. “We became friends, but for a long time I saw her, as you describe, serious and devoted to her work. Then her walls began to come down, and I wanted to see more of the person inside those walls. And then when she almost lost her student Iditri in that shuttle crash, it affected her. I thought the walls were going back up, but they didn’t.”

Isabelle smiled, a tinge of red on her cheeks. “Later, I came out to her. I trusted her, and she gave me the support I needed, and then some. When she looked at me, it was like she saw someone who I couldn’t quite see in the mirror yet.”

“You really care for her, don’t you?”

“My god, I do,” she said and then huffed. “What I mean to say is that Bria feels emotions deeply even if she doesn’t show it. I believe she is aware that you and her lab haven’t necessarily gotten to see the best version of her, but I know she’s trying.” Isabelle folded her hands and glanced at the window. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

They headed out to the nearby pavilion and walked the path circling the park. The sun had warmed the pond there, leaving little ice behind, and small waterfowl waddled around the edge.

“The ducks are out,” Isabelle said.

The small brown birds squawked and picked at some food on the ground. Seph eyed them suspiciously.

“I never quite knew what to make of these birds,” he said.

“You don’t have ducks back home?”

“Oh, we have ducks on Lythrum-9. They don’t look like this. They’re big. Sharp. Like to bite.”

Isabelle tapped her hand to her mouth. “Hm.”

They walked counterclockwise around the pond.

“I will say,” Isabelle began, “I knew that the environment in Bria’s lab had become somewhat dysfunctional. That much was apparent, and Bria knew it.”

“It felt like Bria was aware this postdoc of hers was causing problems, but wasn’t willing to do anything about it. Like the postdoc was a temporary problem that she would outlast,” Seph said.

Isabelle sighed. “I’m not sure that’s exactly what she was thinking, but it seems to be what happened. As far as I understood, this individual expressed elitist opinions about ‘real research’ and invalidated career paths outside of a narrow definition of academia.”

“It affected everyone and damaged the work environment for far longer than this person even worked there.”

“In a way, I understand Bria’s reaction,” Isabelle said. “I want my students and anyone else in my lab to feel safe to disagree with me. To express different opinions, provided they aren’t combative.” She put on her gloves and rubbed her hands together. “My guess is that Bria wanted so strongly not to step on any toes, not to invalidate personal opinions, that she genuinely didn’t know how to intervene. The problem is that some noxious opinions are incompatible with a healthy work environment and can’t be allowed to stand unquestioned.”

“I agree with that, and I know I could have done better, too,” Seph said. “I guess I wanted was an apology from her. And some shred of validation that yes, the lab environment had soured, and no, I wasn’t a bad researcher for not being able to tolerate it.”

He shook his head. “But I don’t want to believe my relationship with her is poisoned beyond saving. I know I haven’t been the best version of myself either—I’ve been tired and anxious and unhappy, and that’s not her fault. All I really want is to leave here on decent terms with Bria.”

“I don’t think all is lost,” Isabelle said. “Perhaps you need to give her some time. It sounds like you came here to check up on her, which was very kind of you.”

“But I don’t think I can help her. I don’t know how, and I’m not the right person to be her emotional support.” Seph stopped walking and met Isabelle’s gaze. “Do you think you can be that person for her? You two are far closer than she and I are. And frankly, I feel better knowing that there’s someone she lets in.”

“I can do my best,” Isabelle said.

“She cares very much about you. That much is apparent.”

Isabelle flushed. “I am aware. Rather, she and I have much to talk about, but in some ways, she is not so good at hiding her feelings.”

Seph snorted and smiled at her. “Yeah. I bet you and I would have gotten along well if we had spent more time together. Could have been friends rather than just acquaintances.”

She smiled back at him. “I don’t think it’s too late for that. Even if we live far apart, there’s no reason we can’t keep in touch.”

“Would you?”

“You’ll find that I don’t give up easily on friendship, Seph,” she said, her eyes bright.