After checking his gear at the hotel, Anderson rented a car and drove out to the isolated estates on the outskirts of the city. It took him awhile to find Grissom’s house; the addresses in the area were so inconspicuous as to be almost hidden. It was obvious the people who lived out here valued their privacy.

Exiting the vehicle, he began the long walk across the grounds of the estate toward the surprisingly small domicile located as far back from the road as possible. Anderson didn’t understand Grissom’s desire to withdraw from the public eye. He respected the man and his reputation, but he couldn’t imagine any way to justify simply walking away like he did. A soldier didn’t turn his back on the Alliance like that.

You’re not here to pass judgment, he reminded himself as he reached the door. He rang the bell and waited, involuntarily standing at attention. You’re just here to find Kahlee Sanders.

It took several minutes before he heard someone coming on the other side, grumbling as he approached. A moment later the door opened, revealing Rear Admiral Jon Grissom in all his glory.

The salute Anderson had been on the verge of snapping off by way of greeting died at his hip. The man before him wore nothing but a tattered housecoat and dirty boxers. His hair was long and uncombed and his face was partially hidden behind a three-day stubble of gray and black hairs. His eyes were hard and bitter, and his face seemed frozen in a scowl.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“Sir,” Anderson replied, “my name is Lieutenant Commander David And — ” Grissom cut him off. “I know who you are. We met back at Arcturus.”

“That’s right, sir,” Anderson acknowledged, feeling a faint surge of pride at being recognized. “Before the First Contact War. I’m surprised you remember me.”

“I’m retired, not senile.” Despite the joke, there was nothing humorous in Grissom’s tone.

There was an awkward pause as Anderson tried to reconcile his memories of the iconic figure of

Grissom’s past with the disheveled grouch now standing in front of him. It was Grissom who filled the silence.

“Look, kid, I’m retired. So go back and tell the brass that I’m not going to do any interviews or speeches or appearances just because one of our military bases got attacked. I’m done with that crap.”

Anderson pounced, convinced the other man had already slipped up. “How do you know Sidon was attacked?”

Grissom glared at him like he was a fool. “It’s all over the damn news vids.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Anderson said, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Can we talk inside?” “No.”

“Please, sir. It’s a matter I’d rather not discuss out here in public.” Grissom held his ground, blocking the door so Anderson couldn’t enter.

The lieutenant realized tact and diplomacy weren’t going to be any use here. Time to be blunt. “Tell me about Kahlee Sanders, sir.”

“Who?”

The old man was good. Anderson had been hoping to see some reaction at the name of his long-lost daughter, his only flesh and blood. But Grissom hadn’t even flinched.

“Kahlee Sanders,” Anderson repeated, his voice becoming noticeably louder. It was unlikely anyone would hear him — the neighbors were too far away. But he had to do something to get inside that door. “Your daughter. The soldier who went UA from Sidon mere hours before it was attacked. The woman we’re looking at as a traitor to the Alliance.”

Grissom’s scowl became a grimace of pure hatred. “Shut up and get your ass in here,” he muttered, stepping aside.

Once inside, Anderson followed his reluctant host into the small living room. Grissom settled into one of the three padded chairs, but the lieutenant remained standing, waiting for an invitation to do the same. After several seconds he realized the invitation wasn’t forthcoming, and he took a seat on his own.

“How’d you find out about Kahlee?” Grissom finally asked, speaking as casually as if they were discussing the weather.

“There are no secrets in this day and age,” Anderson replied. “We know she was last seen here on

Elysium. I need to know if she came to talk to you.”

“I haven’t spoken to my daughter since before she was a teenager,” Grissom replied. “Her mother didn’t think much of me as a husband or a father, and I couldn’t really argue with her. I figured the best thing was to just get out of their lives.

“Hey,” Grissom suddenly recalled, “last time we met you said you were engaged. A girl waiting for you back on Earth, right? You must be married by now. Congratulations.”

He was trying to throw Anderson off balance. Grissom knew damn well how hard it was for an Alliance soldier to make a marriage work; his innocent question was meant to rattle his guest. He may have looked like a harmless, burned-out old man, but there was still plenty of fight left in him.

Anderson wasn’t about to rise to the bait. “Sir, I need your help. Your daughter is suspected of being a traitor to the Alliance. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Why should it?” he shot back. “I barely know her.”

“I found out you two were related. Eventually somebody else is going to make that connection, too.” “What? You think I’m worried about my reputation?” he scoffed. “You think I’m going to help you

because I don’t want people to know the great Admiral Grissom had an illegitimate daughter who’s accused of treason? Ha! You’re the ones who care about crap like that. I really couldn’t give a damn.”

“That’s not what I meant, sir,” Anderson replied, refusing to be provoked. “I tracked Kahlee here. To you. That means someone else can track her here, too. I came to you because I want to help your daughter. But the next person who comes after her — and we both know there will be others — might be looking to harm her.”

Grissom leaned forward slowly and placed his head in his hands, considering Anderson’s words. Several long moments went by before he sat up straight again. His eyes were moist with tears.

“She’s not a traitor,” he whispered. “She didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“I believe you, sir,” Anderson said, his voice sincere and sympathetic. “But not many others will. That’s why I need to find her. Before something happens to her.”

Grissom didn’t say anything, but simply sat there chewing on his lower lip.

“I won’t let anything bad happen to her,” Anderson reassured him. “I give you my word on it.”

“She came here,” Grissom finally admitted, taking a deep breath. “She said she was in trouble. Something to do with Sidon. I didn’t ask her any of the details. I guess… I guess I was afraid of what she might tell me.”

He leaned forward and clasped his head in his hands again. “I was never there for her when she was growing up,” he mumbled, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. “I couldn’t turn her away now. I owed her.”

“I understand, Admiral,” Anderson said, reaching forward to place a comforting hand on Grissom’s shoulder. “But you have to tell me where she went.”

Grissom looked up at him, his expression naked and vulnerable. “I gave her the name of a freighter captain down at the ports. Errhing. Captain of the Gossamer. He helps people who want to disappear. She left last night.”

“Where was she going?”

“I didn’t ask. Errhing takes care of all the details. You need to talk to him.” “Where is he?”

“The Gossamer left this morning on a trade run out near the Terminus Systems. He won’t be back for weeks.”

“We don’t have weeks, sir.”

Grissom stood up, his posture a little straighter than it had been when Anderson first arrived, as if his muscles were trying to remember what it was like to stand proudly at attention. “Then I guess you’ll just have to get your patrols out there and find him, soldier. He’s the only one who can lead you to my daughter.”

Anderson jumped crisply to his feet. “Don’t worry, Admiral. I won’t let anything happen to her.” He started to salute, but Grissom turned his head away.