Chapter Ten

  Nash stretched and rubbed his eyes, his chair creaking as it tilted back. A long day nearly done, his quarters lay quiet and dark, save for a single light. A small, hand crafted oil lamp cast a flickering, orange glow over the desk, while filling the room with a scent reminiscent of backyard barbecues. He leaned back forward and pulled out the small, leather bound diary and fountain pen from under the desk and prepared to write.

  “Colonel Nash,” came a voice from the open doorway.

  Nash turned to see Dr. Talhoo, wearing his usual smiling face and holding a computer tablet.

  “I hope I am not interrupting, Colonel, but I have something you might find interesting.”

  “Come on in, Doc,” Nash said as he tossed the pen back on the desk. He opened the lower drawer and pulled out a dark brown apothecary-style bottle and two white china teacups. “Have a taste with me?”

  “Certainly, Colonel.” The doctor shuffled to the bed and had a seat. “You know I am quite fond of gin.”

  “You and I are about the only ones on the ship who have a taste for it.” Nash poured the drinks and handed one to Talhoo. “To your health, Doctor.”

  Nash downed his gin in one gulp. He leaned back in his chair and watched the doctor sip the gin, as if drinking hot tea. The doctor pointed to the oil lamp.

  “Is that your gift from Wilan Trewin?”

  Nash nodded.

  “Ms. Marov was pretty shaken by the events on the trail home, Colonel.”

  Nash sat quietly for a time before speaking. “I wish she hadn’t seen that. Hell, I wished it hadn’t come to that. When the war ended, I swore never to kill a man like I did today.”

  “You did what you had to do to protect others. That is who you are.”

  “For years, I’ve done everything I could to avoid a repeat of Salus Centauri. Now, on this planet, I feel like it’s just a matter of time before that happens.”

  “And what if it does? You did what you had to do.”

  “Lots of good people died.”

  “That is the nature of war.” The doctor placed the china cup on the stand near the bed, then formed a triangle with his hands. “It is interesting, only three individuals on this planet know what happened on Salus. One detests you for what you did. Another admires you for your actions.”

  “I’m not about to guess which you are, Doc.” Nash stared at the wall for a moment, then cleared his throat. “So, what did you come to show me?”

  “The tillers,” the Doctor replied. “I completed my examination of Wilan Trewin’s blood sample. He and his people are human.”

  Nash’s eyes opened wide as he slid forward in his chair. “What do you mean they’re human? You’ve seen how small they are.”

  “On a genetic level, you have more in common with the tillers than you do with Mr. Davenport. They have a near perfect match for someone of Western European descent.”

  “Near perfect?” Nash quizzed.

  “The tillers have been genetically altered for size, disease resistance, and a few other factors. Very sophisticated work, actually.”

  Nash rubbed his chin. “This place gets weirder by the minute. Plants and animals from all over the galaxy, now we find genetically altered humans. What’s next?”

  “Perhaps the tillers know something of their past that can give us a clue as to what has happened here.”

  “Possibly. You tell anyone about this, Doc?”

  “Just you.”

  “Let’s keep it that way for now.”

  “Certainly, Colonel. Goodnight.”

  Nash once again stretched in his chair.

  What a day.