Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition by Laurel L. Russwurm Page A

with over to Jake. “I'm afraid it is.”
    “But Maggie, you don't look, I mean, I'm so sorry.”
    Maggie doesn't really know the freshman very well, but his eyes are full of pity. Then she realizes he must only have heard the tail end of the conversation and thinks she's the one dying.
    “It's not me, Jake. I'm healthy as a horse, it's a friend of mine who's sick, not me.”
    Oscar cocks an eyebrow. “That's what comes of listening at doors, misunderstanding and innuendo. Tsk, tsk.”
    Jake starts “I didn't . . .”
    Maggie turns to Oscar, “It's not his fault, Oz. Obviously this was not something we should have been discussing in the common room. It's my fault. I wasn't thinking.”
    Jake suddenly looks if anything even more upset.
    “Oh, Kate! Oh how awful for poor Nick.”
    Maggie says, “Stop.” She takes a breath. “Look, it's not my secret, but I see it'll drive you nuts if you don't know.”
    Jake says. “It's driving me nuts already.”
    “Here's the deal; I will tell you who my unlucky friend is. She doesn't want people to know, she wants to live her life the way she wants. She doesn't want pity. So you don't tell anyone, not your mother, your girlfriend or your priest. Okay?”
    Oscar chips in, “It goes no farther, right?”
    Both stare intently at Jake who says, “I won't say a word.”
    Maggie says, “Okay, then.”
    Jake leans in close to hear, Oscar scans the entrances and the upper balcony of the women's part of the Res above, making sure there are no other inadvertent listeners.
    Maggie says, softly. “It's Krystal.”
    “Krystal.” Jake is stricken. “No way. I mean, oh shit.”
    Maggie nods. “You can't tell anybody though.”
    “I wouldn't.” Jake shakes his head. “I didn't . . . I mean, I thought she was a bit goth, I never thought she might be sick.”
    Oscar stands up, and puts on his sternest face, which surprises them both, since he's usually scattering blarney. He looks different, this burly serious man with smouldering grey eyes.
    “So, this is a secret, right?” Oscar's eyes bore into Jake's, who nods fervently. “Just know that if this sad tale makes the rounds whoever spread it will answer to me.”
    Maggie appraises Oscar carefully as he crosses surprisingly muscular arms over his broad chest. This is a different Oscar, actually a pretty scary Oscar.
    Jake nods, wide eyed. “Yes, Oscar.” and he gets to his feet. “Uh, I've got a class.” Jake can't leave fast enough.
    Oscar sits back down. Maggie looks at him, biting her lip, beginning to giggle. Oscar relaxes and laughs along with her.
    “Where,” asks Maggie, “did you learn to do scary like that. That was amazing.”
    “Count yourself lucky, you've never had the pleasure of my sainted sister.”
    Maggie cracks up, a mixture of laughter and tears pour out of her in glorious release.

chapter 30 . . .
    Ethan walks into the photography lab where Jake sits at a workbench, running a slide show on the large wall mounted flat screen.
    It is a series of high contrast macro shots of really surprising things. Ethan's not sure what many of the images actually might be, but all are clean and sharp, yet with a pervasive aura of decay.
    Not for the first time Ethan is overawed by young Jake's skill. Talent. genius. Whatever it is, Jake is good.
    Ethan slips quietly into a chair by the door so as not to disturb Jake's series of photographs. Now it looks to be shots of some kind of fabric, nicotine yellow with a loose weave, maybe antique lace because it looks like it's crumbling to dust. Then there are images of some kind of fungal growth on what might be tree bark with an almost luminescent undertone to the lighting.
    But the images that speak to Ethan are a series of metal connectors, ball bearings, and what he thinks might be the links of a bicycle chain. His favourite is a low angle shot of a rusted out bolt protruding from some kind of sheet metal.
    What makes the image so interesting to Ethan is the refracted halo