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The theoretical paper on mass-space compression was still open, as well as his hastily calculated coursecorrections.
He smiled and archived those notes. He might one day give a lecture on this battle at the Academy. Itwould be useful to have the original source material.
There was also the data from theArchimedes Sensor Outpost. That report had been thoroughly made:clean data graphs and a navigational course plotted for the object through Slipstream space—not an easytask even with an AI. The report even had tags to route it to the astrophysics section of the UNSC.Thoughtful.
He looked up the service record of the officer who had filed the report: Ensign William Lovell.
Keyes leaned closer. The boy’s Career Service Vitae was almost twice as long as his own. He hadvolunteered and been accepted at Luna Academy. He transferred in his second year, having alreadyreceived a commission to Ensign for heroism in a training flight that had saved the entire crew. He tookduty on the first outbound corvette headed into battle. Three Bronze Stars, a Silver Cluster, and twoPurple Hearts, and he had catapulted to a full Lieutenant within three years.
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Then something went terribly wrong. Lovell’s decline in the UNSC had been as rapid as his ascent. Fourreports of insubordination and he was busted to Second Lieutenant and transferred twice. An incidentwith a civilian woman—no details in the files, although Commander Keyes wondered if the girl listed inthe report, Anna Gerov, was Vice Admiral Gerov’s daughter.
He had been reassigned to theArchimedes Sensor Outpost, and had been there for the last year, anunheard of length of time in such a remote facility.
Commander Keyes reviewed the logs when Lovell had been on duty. They were careful and intelligent.So the boy was still sharp . . . was he hiding?
There was a gentle knock on his door.
“Lieutenant Dominique, I said I was not to be disturbed.”
“Sorry to intrude, son,” said a muffled voice. The pressure door’s wheel turned and Admiral Stanforthstepped inside. “But I thought I’d just stop by since I was in the neighborhood.”
Admiral Stanforth was much smaller in person than he appeared on-screen. His back was stooped overwith age, and his white hair was thinning at the crown. Still, he exuded a reassuring air of authority thatKeyes instantly recognized.
“Sir!” Commander Keyes stood at attention, knocking over his chair.
“At ease, son.” The Admiral looked around his quarters, and his gaze lingered a moment on the framedcopy of Lagrange’s original manuscript in which he derived his equations of motion. “You can pour mea few fingers of the whiskey, if you can spare it.”
“Yes, sir.” Keyes fumbled with another plastic cup and poured the Admiral a drink.
Stanforth took a sip, then sighed appreciatively. “Very nice.”
Keyes righted his chair and offered it to the Admiral.
He sat down and leaned forward. “I wanted to congratulate you personally on the miracle you performedhere, Keyes.”