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“Of course not,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But we have one hundred and fifty testsubjects to consider, and facilities and funding for only half that number. It’s a simple mathematicalelimination, Lieutenant. That child was one of the lucky ones—either that or he is extraordinarily fast.Either way, he’s in.”
“I don’t understand,” Lieutenant Keyes said, and he started fiddling with the pipe he carried in hispocket.
“I hope that continues, Lieutenant, ” Dr. Halsey replied quietly. “For your sake, I hope you neverunderstand what we’re doing.”
She looked one last time at Number 117—at John. He was having so much fun, running and laughing.For a moment she envied the boy’s innocence; hers was long dead. Life or death, lucky or not, she wascondemning this boy to a great deal of pain and suffering.
But it had to be done.
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CHAPTER THREE
2300 Hours September 23, 2517 (Military Calendar ) / Epsilon Eridani System, Reach MilitaryComplex,planet Reach
Dr. Halsey stood on a platform in the center of the amphitheater. Concentric rings of slate-gray riserssurrounded her—empty for now. Overhead spotlights focused and reflected off her white lab coat, butshe still was cold.
She should feel safe here. Reach was one of the UNSC’s largest industrial bases, ringed with high-orbitgun batteries, space docks, and a fleet of heavily-armed capital ships. On the planet’s surface wereMarine and Navy Special Warfare training grounds, OCS schools, and between her undergroundfacilities and the surface were three hundred meters of hardened steel and concrete. The room where shenow stood could withstand a direct hit from an 80-megaton nuke.
So why did she feel so vulnerable?
Dr. Halsey knew what she had to do. Her duty. It was for the greater good. All humanity would beserved . . . even if a tiny handful of them had to suffer for it. Still, when she turned inward and faced hercomplicity in this—she was revolted by what she saw.
She wished she still had Lieutenant Keyes. He had proven himself a capable assistant during the lastmonth. But he had begun to understand the nature of the project—at least seen the edges of the truth. Dr.Halsey had him reassigned to theMagellan with a commission to full Lieutenant for his troubles.
“Are you ready, Doctor?” a disembodied woman’s voice asked.
“Almost, Déjà.” Dr. Halsey sighed. “Please summon Chief Petty Officer Mendez. I’d like you bothpresent when I address them.”
Déjà’s hologram flicked on next to Dr. Halsey. The AI had been specifically created for Dr. Halsey’sSPARTAN project. She took the appearance of a Greek goddess: barefoot, wrapped in the toga, motes oflight dancing about her luminous white hair. She held a clay tablet in her left hand. Binary cuneiformmarkings scrolled across the tablet. Dr. Halsey couldn’t help but marvel at the AI’s chosen form; eachAI “self-assigned” a holographic appearance, and each was unique.
One of the doors at the top of the amphitheater opened and Chief Petty Officer Mendez strode down thestairs. He wore a black dress uniform, his chest awash with silver and gold stars and a rainbow of