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	Jack answered, ‘Space.’ 

She queered at him. ‘Space?’ She looked around as if to analyse the air surrounding them. ‘Is that some sort of clever remark about the air surrounding us all? Or… is space actually the name of the place you are from?’ 

Jack considered this for a moment before replying. ‘I see “space” holds an entirely different connotation for you than it does for me.’ He reconsidered his answer, and said, ‘I was born and raised in a place called Bundaberg.’ 

‘And where is Bundaberg?’  She narrowed her eyes. 

‘On another world. In a future Era.’  

Amber played with this thought for a while, eyes jittered left and right as if speed reading an invisible scroll. Jack stared flatly at her, observing, watching the subtle expressions of her face change with the progress of her thought process. In the end her eyes widened, partly quizzical, partly angry. 

‘And what might this other world be called?’ She asked him. Her tone was impatient, irritated, patronising, like she were addressing a child with an overactive imagination and couldn’t shut up about it.  

‘Earth.’ He said, continuing to stare at her soberly. 

The legs of Amber's chair scraped across the ground as she pushed away from the table to stand up and leave. 

‘So you did know I was lying.’ She concluded with a shake of her head. ‘Why didn’t you just say so?’ She thought a little more about it. ‘You know what, I’ve suddenly got a bad feeling about you, and I really don’t see why telling me where you are from is such a big problem for you. What could it hurt? Looks like we can’t trust each other then, huh? You eccentric type are all the same.’ 

She started to push up from her seat to leave. He reached quickly across the table and grabbed her by the wrist. 

‘No,’ he said, glaring at her with all seriousness, ‘let me show you I’m telling the truth. He paused to release her wrist, and added, ‘I need someone here to know who and what I am. I trust you….’