[The answer takes a few seconds too long and the name he finally gives anyone else would brush off as fake. Ginia doesn't question it. Can't after she gave a fake name herself, but you don't question the way people identify themselves. Ephemera it is.]

Let's go.

[Ginia grabs her jacket off the chair and slings it over a shoulder. Most of the crowd has gone back to their own business; the few still watching she ignores. Once more she walks off, setting a path, expecting him to follow at his leisure. There's a small twitch of anxiety turning her back on him, but if he wanted her dead, he had the chance. He had the offensive advantage. Could have snapped her neck. Crushed or tore out her throat.

But he didn't and she doubt he'll try again. Not without a good reason.

Well. Best not give him one.

The ready room bleeds into a hall and then out into a lot behind an alley. A few people loiter around, drinking, chatting. It's cold outside. Bracing in a way that makes Ginia miss her nanite-driven thermoregulation, but it's refreshing. Ginia sucks in a breath of cold air that hurts all the way down to her lungs, exhales and watches the cloud twist and dissipate.

She looks at Ephemera, smiles nervously, signing rapidly. Small talk is not her thing, but now she feels the need to fill time and space, work out the last of her energy.]

Thought we'd try the food carts out front. Got to be good if no one's driven them off. But if there's something specific you want, I'm all ears. I'm not a picky eater.