Dr. Ivy Carr, P.h.D. was not seen again for two days.
               She was found dead ather apartment with an unknown
               implant imbedded in her occipital lobe. An autopsy
               revealed cyanide in her bloodstream, and is believed
               to be the cause of death.
                                              - Medical Examiner
                                                Carl Tromskin M.D
                                                October 14, 3021

        Carl sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. He was reviewing files for the string of murders. Ivy was only the first. After her, the entire medical and scientific teams investigating and mapping the subterranian caves were killed in the same manner, whatever that was. Thankfully, Ivy had taken a digital recorder with her into the cavern, so the way in which the glyphs was known.
        The real oddity was the implant. It was made of a strange material; the scientists on Vivicus had no way of replicating it as of yet. If they could only figure out the purpose of these nanomachines, then maybe a protection could be manufactured so that the entirety of the cave system could be mapped.
        The next mystery didn't involve Carl at all. Or so he thought. Giant launch pads had been discovered in the Vivican desert on the  southernmost continent named Mortus because of the amount of fossils discovered there.
        The mesas were being surveyed by the geologists, when burn marks were found on their tops. The original purpose for investigation was to try and understand why the mesas were so strangely geometrically perfect, and all congruent. Now it was known that the mesas were man (or rather alien) made. This planet was an exobiologist's dream, as well as an anthropologist's. However, it was turning out to be the coroner's hell, and an M.D.'s nightmare. Unexplainable deaths were not a good thing when a species was 60 billion light years from home. Especially when settlements could be in danger.
        Carl's thoughts pounded in his brain like raindrops, repeating a cycle of questionas and answers until he heard a knock on the door of his tiny office.
    "Who is it?" he asked, yawning as he glanced  at the clock—it was 11:06 p.m.
    "Dr. Thomas Laraché, Vivicus pio—" a voice began but was cut off by Carl as he leapt from his chair and raced towards the hatch.
    "Coming!" he replied, straightening his tie, and patting his black hair into a reasonable shape, pushing his glasses up his nose and dusting off his pants before he called to the general direction of his computer, "Computer,  acces door open." With a pneumatic thump, the door slid open to reveal a middle-aged, but weary looking man who towered over the doctor. Carl stuck out his hand and smiled widely, hoping that it wouldn't shake, and his knees wouldn't betray his nervousness.
    "Honor to meet you sir! Please come in," he said, loudly enthusiastic, attempting to compensate for his heart, which seemed to Carl that it would be willing to rival the Space Marine's drum corps.
    Thomas smiled back tiredly, his eyes crinkling into crows feet at the enthusiastic young man who stood before him in this cramped office space. Could I ever have been that happy with my job, Thomas thought to himself as he shook the doctor's hand. Then he walked in slowly towards the computer and sat down at the console. Seeing Ivy's picture, he sighed deeply and blinked slowly.
    "How's the report coming Dr. Tromskin?" He asked quietly, as he swiveled the chair to face the jittery young man, his voice flat with the sorrow of a friend and fellow scientist lost.
    "Sir?"
    "How old are you?"
    "Sir??" Carl looked flabbergasted. He had prepared himself for many converstions with this space ledgend, but nothing quite so drastic.
    " I asked how old you were" Thomas repeated slowly, emphasizing each word for clarity.
    " Er . . twenty-nine sir" he twiddled his fingers
    "You weren't on the Pioneer mission, were you?"
    "No sir, I was on the second transport that came the day Ms.—Dr. Carr  died. She was my first case here as coroner."
    " I see." Thomas breathed out a deep breath he had been holding in as he sat and listened to Dr. Tromskin, and heard the young enthusiastic voice turn to lead.
    "If I may sir, why do you care?"
    "You may. I am merely curious as to how long I have spent on this godforsaken planet. It seems like a whole lifetime," He put his head in his hands and sighed, "Now that my colleagues are dying, I'm beginning to think that it's even more godforsaken than I previously thought."
    "Well, your mision launched—" Carl started doing the math on his fingers but Thomas waved him to a stop, shaking his greying head, smiling amusedly.
    "No, not literally. My brain has been under so much stress lately, that I've lost track of time. How old do you think I am — honestly my boy?"
    "I'd say —" he paused, getting a faraway look in his eyes as he thought, "fifty-three" he finished.
    "I'm forty one. That's what this deathtrap of a planet has done to me. I've become an old man overnight." He looked wistful before getting a glazed look in his eyes, while Carl thought about his parents. Suddenly he slapped his leg and stood up, jerking Carl from his stupor.
    "How's the report doctor?"
    "Huh? I—I mean sir?" Carl looked confused.
    "Your analysis of the cerebral matter surrounding the nano-implants, how is it coming along?"
    "Oh, that," Carl looked relieved, "I'm putting some samples from the victims under the microscope tomorrow."
    "Good. You'll call me when the results are in, won't you?"
    "Oh, most definitely sir."
    Thomas strode towards the door, but paused and turned to Carl, "And Carl," he smiled at the shock that swept through the young man's features.
    "Yes sir?" Carl was genuinely puzzled at the sudden shift in Thomas's voice towards the familiar tones.
    "Call me Thomas" he smiled at Carl, who's face visibly relaxed.
    "Alright s—Thomas." He grinned sheepishly, and Thomas shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. He stuck out a hand, and ruffled the young doctor's hair.
    "Good night Carl."
    "Good night Thomas."