“I don’t know, Sir,” Murphy began. “I don’t think they were men.”

The ability to be humble and admit to their ignorance was a good sign. He did not need a zealot that immediately yelled ‘heretic’ or ‘demon’ whenever the unexpected cropped up.

There’s more to it than that. The Sergeant must have also suspected that Marc was also not human.

“Would you include me—(me in that category)?” Marc asked.

“Yes… Sir,” Murphy replied while tensing his jaw muscles.

He wanted a man of reason who was also cool under pressure. Marc needed someone trustworthy to look after his men and lead them to victory. There are things out there that I can’t explain, even after four centuries.

“I’m glad, Sergeant,” Marc began. “Let me ask you a question. What did you see that night?”

Those eyes opened wide and he blinked several times. Murphy must have expected Marc to fill in the blanks instead of a debrief. Even my presence is suspect.

“I don’t know, Sir,” Murphy began. “I don’t think they were men.”

“How would you react if a colonel was wandering alone through No Man’s Land?”

Being a direct man, the Sergeant went to open his mouth, but left it there open a quarter of the way. As reason took over he furrowed his brow, tilted his head to the side and took a deep breath.

“I see your point, Sir,” Murphy said.

Marc smiled because the Sergeant exhibited two valuable traits. The first being the ability to react quickly, while the second was to let reason temper his actions.

He had no need for a hothead that runs into the fray. They would invariably get themselves killed and in all likelihood take several men to the grave.

At least this question moved in the right direction. Private Lewis lacked the wherewithal to consider the disconnect. Marc had to lead the young lad to both the questions and the answer. That proved to be tedious.

“I’m what I need to be,” Marc said.

“Meaning, Sir?”

“How would you react if a colonel was wandering alone through No Man’s Land?”

“Sir,” Murphy said as he knocked on the doorframe. Minus the door.

“Ah, Sergeant Murphy,” Marc said in a warm voice. “Have you considered my offer?”

“So it was you?” Murphy confirmed.

The Sergeant was not the first man to wonder, but was one of the few to act on it. Most simply chose not to question the disconnect and move on. He knows when to push back.

“It was,” Marc replied.

“You’re a Colonel?”

“I am,” Marc replied who saw where this was headed.

“You were a captain?” Murphy asked.

A moment later the Sergeant spotted what passed for an office and marched smartly up to the door. Mark turned around on his stool to get a better look at the man.

The man was not more than thirty years old, which was comparatively rare outside of a war. While battlefield promotions were common nowadays, Marc knew from the man’s record that it was raw talent and determination that got him those chevrons.

Murphy was clean shaven, in shape and comparatively tall. That sandy blonde hair and blue eyes would disarm many, but Marc was not so easily swayed by appearance. I also live in a world of beautiful monsters.

“He’s in his office,” Private Monaghan, the day sentry, said.

“Thank you, Private,” Murphy said. “I can find my way.”

Given how small most of these dugouts generally were, that was usually true. Either way, when Marc was in his office it was to get noticed. People find it suspicious if you’re only out at night.

Before the Sergeant could interrupt him, Marc wrote down the appropriate sequence onto his pad before putting away the latter.  While the message was encoded he had no desire to share the contents.