Santi spins his chair back to his computer. “I don’t know. When I was a kid dreaming of studying the stars, I thought I’d spend more time actually looking at them.”

“Actually looking isn’t science.”

Santi shakes his head. “Thanks for the mentorship,” he mutters under his breath. He fixes the bug and sets up the next run of the simulation, then goes to the lounge to make a pot of coffee. He drinks his first cup, kicking his feet up on the table where copies of old journals act as makeshift coasters.

He knows he shouldn’t talk to Dr. Lišková the way he does. He knows she shouldn’t talk to him the way she does. They simply don’t work, and he’s not sure if it’s him or her that’s the problem. It’s not that he dislikes her. If they were anything other than supervisor and student, they might even get along.

As if summoned by his thoughts, she comes into the lounge for a cup of tea. The sound of the kettle rings a bell in Santi’s head: time for more coffee. He picks up his mug to refill it, but it’s heavier than he expected. Hot coffee sloshes over the edge, burning his hand.

He swears. Dr. Lišková watches with amusement. “Did you break gravity again?”

Santi is searching for a comeback when he remembers what he was about to do. He stares at the full mug of coffee, at the fault line in the universe. “It was empty.”

Dr. Lišková pours water into her mug. “You mean you thought it was empty.”

“No. I know it was empty.” Santi looks up at her. “How long have I been in here?”

Dr. Lišková checks her watch. “You’ve been away from the lab for thirty minutes.”

Santi notes her careful rewording: confining her testimony to what she could personally observe. “Well, I was in here the whole time. Have you ever known me to take more than ten minutes to drink my coffee?”

“You do usually down it like it’s juice,” she admits, bringing her tea over and sitting down. “I suppose you made an exception.”

Santi realizes she isn’t going to take his memory as an accurate record. “It’s hot,” he says, showing her the inflamed skin on his hand. “It can’t be the same coffee I poured when I came in here.”

“So someone came in and poured you another.”

He swings his legs down and sits up. “Okay, first, there are maybe two other people in the entire building right now. Second, how would I not have noticed someone standing right next to me and pouring me a coffee?”

Dr. Lišková turns to face him. Santi has never seen her so engaged in any conversation that isn’t about research. “You fell asleep.”

“After drinking a whole mug of coffee in ten minutes?”