planets. Thousands of worlds, wiped out. Most of them are still devoid of life, but a few have recovered and are inhabitable again."
"So why haven't the Palani resettled all their old worlds?"
"I don't know for sure," said Dillon, staring at his mug. "And the Tassali is reluctant to speak of it. The Palani are skilled geneticists, and they defeated the Horlan using a bioweapon. But despite their knowledge, their population just never seemed to recover."
"Seems a shame, sir, letting all those garden worlds lie empty like graveyards."
"Shame? Well, Tremblay, the 'Earth First' types agree with you. They'd say that humanity needs the living space. But those worlds are still graveyards."
Tremblay was leaning forward. "What about this place we're in now, sir? This second universe, with the extinct Daltanin? I heard that the Horlan invaded here too, and wiped these people out."
Dillon nodded. "Yeah. Something like that." He glanced over at Tremblay, who was watching him. Dillon remained quiet. He figured it was only a matter of time before Tremblay asked the question hanging in the air. Well, thought Dillon, one of the many questions, anyway.
Tremblay had cocked his head slightly to one side. "There's more to it, isn't there, sir?"
"There's always more to it, Sub."
"And it's miles above my pay grade, right sir?"
"Oh, yes. Above mine, too."
"Sir," said Tremblay, choosing his words carefully, "does it have to do with why the Tassali is on board with us, here in Daltanin space? Is it all connected?"
Dillon grabbed his mug and stood up, sending his chair backwards with a final, loud squeak. "Well," he said, "time for some fresh coffee. I drink too much of this stuff. We haven't had decent coffee since Sap left."
Tremblay was quickly on his feet as well. Dillon thought the expression on the young officer's face had changed. "I think I understand, sir. About things being connected, sir. Permission to be dismissed?"
"Good," said Dillon. "You're dismissed. And… Sub?"
The Sub-Lieutenant paused as he was turning to the cabin door. "Sir?"
"Between you and me, Sub? Keep asking questions. Never stop. Just understand, you can't always get answers."
"Aye aye, sir."
* * *
Empty mug in hand and pen in mouth, Dillon walked into the wardroom. Chief Black was stirring her newly-poured cup of coffee. Her hair was dark and close-cut, and her bright green eyes looked up at him as he entered. "Captain, sir."
Dillon reached for the pot of coffee on the counter. He watched her stirring her mug, the metal spoon clinking against the ceramic. "Morning, Chief," he said. "Why do you always stir your coffee? You never put anything in it."
The Chief stopped stirring, staring at the dripping spoon she'd pulled out of the mug. "Huh. Habit, I guess, sir. Used to take cream, then ran out of cream once." She held the spoon out toward him. "Weird."
With a flourish, Dillon added a dollop of whitener to his cup, and took the spoon the Chief offered him. "You know, I think young Tremblay is on to you, Chief."
Black blew across the top of her mug, raising an eyebrow. "Is he, now? Did he give you his list of procedural infractions, sir?"
"Yeah." Dillon stirred in silence for a moment, concentrating on not touching the spoon to the mug. "He's right, of course."
"He is, sir. We've strayed so far from the textbook, I don't even think we know where the book is any more."
Putting the spoon on the counter, Dillon took a preliminary sip of his coffee. It felt strange, almost alien, to have coffee while it was still hot. "We're on deployment, a long way from a classroom."
"Aye, sir."
"Still," said Dillon, "he needs to know that he's being taken seriously. I don't want to discourage his attention to detail. He's very sharp."
"Aye, sir."
"Tell you what," he said, sipping again,
"So why haven't the Palani resettled all their old worlds?"
"I don't know for sure," said Dillon, staring at his mug. "And the Tassali is reluctant to speak of it. The Palani are skilled geneticists, and they defeated the Horlan using a bioweapon. But despite their knowledge, their population just never seemed to recover."
"Seems a shame, sir, letting all those garden worlds lie empty like graveyards."
"Shame? Well, Tremblay, the 'Earth First' types agree with you. They'd say that humanity needs the living space. But those worlds are still graveyards."
Tremblay was leaning forward. "What about this place we're in now, sir? This second universe, with the extinct Daltanin? I heard that the Horlan invaded here too, and wiped these people out."
Dillon nodded. "Yeah. Something like that." He glanced over at Tremblay, who was watching him. Dillon remained quiet. He figured it was only a matter of time before Tremblay asked the question hanging in the air. Well, thought Dillon, one of the many questions, anyway.
Tremblay had cocked his head slightly to one side. "There's more to it, isn't there, sir?"
"There's always more to it, Sub."
"And it's miles above my pay grade, right sir?"
"Oh, yes. Above mine, too."
"Sir," said Tremblay, choosing his words carefully, "does it have to do with why the Tassali is on board with us, here in Daltanin space? Is it all connected?"
Dillon grabbed his mug and stood up, sending his chair backwards with a final, loud squeak. "Well," he said, "time for some fresh coffee. I drink too much of this stuff. We haven't had decent coffee since Sap left."
Tremblay was quickly on his feet as well. Dillon thought the expression on the young officer's face had changed. "I think I understand, sir. About things being connected, sir. Permission to be dismissed?"
"Good," said Dillon. "You're dismissed. And… Sub?"
The Sub-Lieutenant paused as he was turning to the cabin door. "Sir?"
"Between you and me, Sub? Keep asking questions. Never stop. Just understand, you can't always get answers."
"Aye aye, sir."
* * *
Empty mug in hand and pen in mouth, Dillon walked into the wardroom. Chief Black was stirring her newly-poured cup of coffee. Her hair was dark and close-cut, and her bright green eyes looked up at him as he entered. "Captain, sir."
Dillon reached for the pot of coffee on the counter. He watched her stirring her mug, the metal spoon clinking against the ceramic. "Morning, Chief," he said. "Why do you always stir your coffee? You never put anything in it."
The Chief stopped stirring, staring at the dripping spoon she'd pulled out of the mug. "Huh. Habit, I guess, sir. Used to take cream, then ran out of cream once." She held the spoon out toward him. "Weird."
With a flourish, Dillon added a dollop of whitener to his cup, and took the spoon the Chief offered him. "You know, I think young Tremblay is on to you, Chief."
Black blew across the top of her mug, raising an eyebrow. "Is he, now? Did he give you his list of procedural infractions, sir?"
"Yeah." Dillon stirred in silence for a moment, concentrating on not touching the spoon to the mug. "He's right, of course."
"He is, sir. We've strayed so far from the textbook, I don't even think we know where the book is any more."
Putting the spoon on the counter, Dillon took a preliminary sip of his coffee. It felt strange, almost alien, to have coffee while it was still hot. "We're on deployment, a long way from a classroom."
"Aye, sir."
"Still," said Dillon, "he needs to know that he's being taken seriously. I don't want to discourage his attention to detail. He's very sharp."
"Aye, sir."
"Tell you what," he said, sipping again,
Similar Books
