Swamped

Eh. You're enjoying this. Eventually you'll have to do something else, but even if you're going to pull another wild escape, you can take some time to just relax here.

You ask Strings for a few more requests. Most you don't know, but she just laughs, sits down, and plays them herself. You do play the ones you can, though.

Then she starts teaching you some of the other songs. It really takes you back - back to the one time in your life when a colony really felt like home.

The church organ was larger than the first piano Simone had trained you on, but the principles were much the same. And while there were plenty of worship songs that made you wince, Simone obviously never made you learn any of those. Just the ones thanking Reth for making her stand.

Those were good days, before the church authorities found out about the two of you. You feel like you can even remember the smell of the sands...

Wait. That's no memory. You start sniffing around.

"What's wrong?" Strings asks, looking worried.

"Scent-sand," you say. "I can't tell just how strong it is, the swamp odors are masking it too much."

She sniffs the air too.

"My nose probably isn't as good, but I think I can catch just a whiff of it. It smells a bit like my old boss' Kandrian tobacco."

Well. There's no way it's occurring naturally in the swamp. You start trying to track down the scent more precisely so you can figure out what's going on.

Where is it coming from?