This is But One Fragment Five Hundred Words Long Constituting Part of Something Much Larger, With At Least One New Episode Per Week, And May Be What We Call A Serialized Novella.

I’ve ordered a tall glass of cold ginger tea imported, as Nusci tells me, from the plantations around the Greenshales. “If you only knew how much effort was made to fly these kinds of delicacies between the cities you would appreciate them so much more.” She says, continuing to convince me of my decision even after we’ve ordered.

“I appreciate them just fine.” I measure my voice as carefully as I can.

“They really are quite rare. It is my treat, remember.” It is not so much flaunting her new salary, I assume. I assume she really is desperate for friendship. “Oh, I can’t even believe I’ve been promoted and moved upward for an entire season.” She expounds. “Can you even imagine that so much time has gone by?”

“It has been very busy.” I say it and then am not sure if it came out insulting. I wince. But if there is a rude inflection in my voice, Nusci ignores it, and I continue, rambling explainations. “The new models are giving us a fid-lot of grief. You know what happened with Timo the other day. Me and the crew – well, we’ve have really been pushing ourselves to meet deadlines, and all, and…”

“I really don’t have much say about that.” Her lips purse and her brows furl for a fleeting moment, but the sentiment seems brushed aside as she whisks the hair away from her face.

“No.” I say. “It’s not that. It’s just been busy… I mean to say… no, I’m just talking. This is off the record right?”

Pause, then…

Her personality is aloft again, and she grins. “Silly! Yes, of course. We’re friends here. Let’s pretend it’s old times.” Nusci reaches across the table and touches the backs of my hands. “Now, tell me Moze — ” She says, an airy flight in her voice. “What do they say about me now that I’ve gone?”

I hesitate. I don’t want to tell her that her name is rarely mentioned. “The usual things. Nasty slurs,” I say, improvising a playful jab no different than I might toss at Ving or Nacks over lunch. “but nothing too cruel.” Of course, I expect retort, a sneering laugh and playful nudge such as Nusci I remember from just a short time ago in the lab. Instead, her face falls and she grows suddenly pale, her hand withdrawing to cover a gaping mouth. It takes her a moment, a moment filled with a succession of short, gasping sobs – I suddenly very aware that we are in a crowded restaurant — before she chokes out a near-silent “R — Really?”

“Nusci.” I reach for her hand, and duck my head low to meet her eyes. “I’m kidding.” There is a moment of silence between us. “Remember? Jokes?”

Gasps. “A joke?” She says at last, her voice still quiet.

“Yeah, a joke.” I repeat. Not a very good one. “Nusci? Are you alright?” I ask.

Just then our tea arrives.