Chandler Armitage was really wondering whether he’d made a mistake in not telling Spruance Del Curtin to find someone back at home to get his ass out of whatever bear trap it had gotten caught in. But Sprue was his clone-brother, which made it harder to refuse.
A little texting back and forth had enabled Chandler to determine that Sprue was dealing with some statistical material that had really upset him. However, it was also becoming obvious that Sprue was acting almost entirely on intuition. He had no idea what the numbers in front of him were actually representing — and reading between the lines, it sounded very much like he wasn’t supposed to know.
Are you sure you really ought to be discussing this with me?
Probably not, but I know Dr. D won’t answer any questions. And you’re the only other person I know with a strong background in data processing and statistical analysis.
True. Are you where I could call you? I think this is something we may need to discuss in realtime.
Right now I’m in Dr. D’s office. I can hear her talking with someone in the department office, but she could come back here any time.
Now that definitely complicated matters. How long does she usually stay in the departmental offices?
Totally depends. Earlier today she was down at FSOT, dealing with some problem with their imaging systems. Apparently she had to spend the whole trip suited up so she wouldn’t have any contact with the commander and pilot of the suborbital hopper.
That’s getting pretty much standard. OTOH, if this isn’t super-urgent, it might be better to wait until I get back to SP tomorrow. Even if we have to talk through a moonglass window, it may be better to discuss this face to face.
I’ll see what I can manage.