Article 23 (3 page)

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Authors: William R. Forstchen

Tags: #Fiction, #General

"Can't help it," Justin answered quietly. "It's just that the view is so incredible."

"You've seen it from the Academy all summer long."

"Yeah, I know. But just think, this tower is anchored on the ground and goes up thirty-seven thousand kilometers. It's incredible that we're riding on it.
Sort of like we're still attached somehow to back down there.
And besides, it's beautiful to look at."

Brian laughed softly and shook his head.

"You'll get over it."

"I hope I never do," Justin replied, looking Brian straight in the eyes.

A thin smile creased Brian's face.

"After it's scared you a couple of times it might not be so beautiful anymore," he said.

"Even then, I hope I don't forget how to look at it the way I am right now," Justin insisted.

"Ah, a poet here," Matt interjected with a laugh.

Brian shook his head.

"Plebes.
Thank heavens I've grown beyond it."

Relaxing in the chair Justin half-listened to the stories Brian and Matt swapped back and forth, with Matt holding the upper hand when it came to yarns about his life as a solar sailor. The gee-load gradually lulled him into a stupor, and through half-closed eyes he wondered how Matt, who had grown up in a zero-gee environment, was handling it. His friend was obviously putting on a show of bravado in front of
Seay
, straining to remain upright. Over a cup of coffee Brian launched into another story, and Justin felt himself drifting away.

"All passengers please return to your seats for deceleration and docking with sky tower station."

Justin looked up, amazed that the hours had passed so quickly.

Matt and Brian gulped down their drinks and started back up to the main deck area with Justin tagging along. As they settled back in their chairs Brian and Matt were already into a boasting war as to which of the two had experienced the narrowest and most hair raising incident and Justin found himself feeling very much like an outsider. He strapped into his chair and leaned back.

"All passengers are now secured," the computer announced, and Justin's chair pivoted in a half-circle so that he was now hanging upside down, the back of the chair pointing straight up. The reverse-magnetic motors kicked on, pushing Justin up as the car started to slow down. From his window he could see

Earth far below, small enough now that if he held his hand out he could completely block it from view. Beyond it was the endless ocean of stars.

The long minutes of two-gee deceleration dragged out and he found himself drifting to the edge of sleep. Then the warning bell sounded to indicate that deceleration was complete.

"Prepare for docking at
Geosynch
Orbital Base Station, gateway to the solar system and beyond," the computer announced. "Have a nice day."

His chair rotated back to its upright position. When deceleration stopped, he felt his stomach leap. They were at near-zero gravity. He took a deep breath and waited, expecting his old enemy space sickness to kick in but nothing happened. He opened his eyes and saw Matt grinning at him.

"You're a veteran now," Matt said, "not Wee the first time."

"Don't remind me."

"Yeah, don't remind him," Brian growled behind them. Embarrassed, Justin looked back, remembering how he had thrown up all over Brian's dress white uniform. Brian looked at him coldly for a moment,
then
smiled.

"It's all right, kid, but some day I'll pay you back I promise!"

He reached out again and shook their hands.

"All right, plebes. Outside this ship there'll be hundreds of cadets waiting for the shuttle to the Academy. Out there I'm Senior Cadet
Seay
and don't forget it. And if you cross me, so help me I'll kick your butts from here to
Phobos
and back again. Got it?'

"Yes, sir!"
Matt replied with mock seriousness.

A faint shudder ran through the car, and Justin spared a quick look out the window. The huge circle of the main docking station was straight overhead. It was nearly one and a half kilometers in diameter, and it appeared to float like a huge halo at the very top of the tower to which it was hooked by half a hundred support spokes. Hundreds of ships of nearly every description were anchored into the docking ports, everything from small express-courier ships and two-seater Strike Eagle defense craft to hundred thousand-ton bulk cargo-carriers. Hovering in holding patterns beyond the ring were more ships waiting for an open docking bay, and beyond them was a long necklace of solar power stations with panels ten kilometers across and zero-gravity manufacturing centers.

Space suddenly disappeared as the car entered a docking tube. The car slowed down, switched through several side tracks, and then came to a stop.

"Thank you for riding United Nations Skyhook Tower Number One, Earth's tower to the stars. Please exit by the nearest door. Please follow the flashing blue arrows to the baggage area to reclaim your luggage. To locate the docking bay of your connecting flight, please consult your computer monitor before leaving."

"It's Docking Bay B-47," Brian announced. "You guys have any luggage?"

"Just our tote bags," Justin replied.

"Come on then, I know the way."

Justin
undipped
his seatbelt and clutched his chair while Matt reached up to the overhead compartment and pulled down their bags. Brian was already out in the corridor and Justin struggled to keep up with his friends as they cleared the airlock and stepped out into the main arrival terminal. With a new ship coming in every minute, there were hundreds of passengers milling about. Justin threaded past a group of Benedictine monks wearing the plain brown robes of their order, who were drifting down the corridor alongside him.

"Heading to our new monastery orbiting Jupiter," one of them said excitedly when he saw Justin looking at him. "Can't let the Franciscans and
Trappists
do all the work out here."

At the end of the open corridor, which stretched for several hundred yards and was lined with duty free shops, they reached a shuttle tunnel that would take them to the B docking area. It seemed like a flood of white uniforms was converging on the spot, and Justin looked around in surprise. During the summer session the only cadets aboard the ship were the scrub class, their cadet instructors, and a few hundred others who were engaged in special projects. Everyone else had been out at hundreds of different research and work sites all the way from Mercury to Jupiter. He felt decidedly uncomfortable at the sight of all the additional stripes on cadet uniforms, and he looked down self-consciously at his own empty sleeve.

There were no seats aboard the open shuttle tram so he just floated into the long compartment, grabbed hold of a strap, and locked his feet under the safety straps set in the floor. Brian was already lost to view although Justin could hear his voice laughing and describing what a miserable bunch of scrubs he had been forced to work with for the summer. Justin and Matt looked at each other a bit nervously, especially when they noticed the disdainful glances of the
upperclassmenas
if the presence of two mere third-class plebes were not even worthy of comment.

The tram started up and drifted into one of the tunnels leading to the outer rim of the station. As the car emerged from the tunnel, Justin was overwhelmed at the sea of white uniforms floating in the B docking area.

Leaving the tramcar, they looked around in confusion.

"Justin, Matt!"

"Hey, it's Madison Smith," Matt cried, and he pushed off to float over to their old classmate. Her dark features were crinkled up into a bright cheery grin and, using her sticky bottom gravity shoes, she clumsily walked over to them to give her two friends a hug. Justin looked around and saw his other friends coming over; in the back of the group he noticed Tanya talking with Sue. She broke away from her friend at the sight of Justin, came up a bit shyly, and extended her hand.

"Good to see you, Justin," she said quietly.

He had been nervously wondering about this moment ever since he left Earth. There had been that hug and kiss on the day that he rescued her and a second kiss just before leaving for Earth. He noticed that Sue was already up to Matt, giving him a hug. Hugs were acceptable according to Academy regulations but anything beyond that was definitely frowned upon, in public and in private. The rules were tough on that point, but everyone knew that when a bit of romance took hold it was kind of hard to clamp down on it completely. But lie wasn't sure if he really wanted a romance with Tanya or not. They had, after all, been bitter enemies right up until the moment he pulled her back from the edge of the cliff on the Moon. Now he wasn't sure, and he instantly picked up that she was nervous as well.

She pulled back a bit.

"Ready to head back?" he finally asked.

"Sure. I think it's going to be an interesting year."

"All right, plebes. First Battalion Company
A
, fall in, let's get a hustle on! Transport Twenty-Three leaves in seven minutes and I'll be damned if one of my pukes gets left behind."

Justin looked over his shoulder to see Brian approaching, and there was a low moan from
Madison and several others gathered around Justin and Matt.

"Come on, move it! I'm sick at the sight of you pukes! And speaking of pukes"
Seay
came up to Justin and fixed him with a steely gaze.

Justin came to attention, amazed at
Seay's
sudden transformation from friendly comrade to company commander.

"
It's
gonna
be a long year with you bums and with any kind of luck we'll get rid of most of you, one way or the other."

He could see that Brian was again all business. It was going to be an interesting year.

Chapter II

"Ships company,
attenshun
!"

Justin sneaked a quick look at the assembled crowd. The last time he had attended a meeting of cadets in the great assembly hall of Star Voyager Academy it was both to receive his award for life saving and to hear Thor
Thorsson
, commander of the Academy, discuss the declaration of non-compliance by the Mars Assembly.

The room seemed as if it had been empty then in comparison to the thousands who now stood in orderly ranks, arranged by class and company. The senior cadet commandant stood at the podium, her steely gaze sweeping the room for the slightest irregularity or disturbance.

There was a stir up towards the podium and

Justin fixed his gaze forward, snapping off a salute as the
bosuns
pipe echoed in the vast room. Thor
Thorsson
ascended to the podium, saluted the colors of the United Space Military Command, and then, facing his audience he returned their salute.

"Ship's company at ease!
Be seated!"

Thorsson
stood silent for a long moment, scanning his audience, and Justin felt that calm penetrating gaze sweep over him for a brief second. He sat a little more rigidly, as if he were alone in the room and
Thorsson
had singled him out for attention.

"I trust that all of you had a stimulating and exciting summer,"
Thorsson
began in his deep rumbling voice, tinged with the faintest touch of a Norwegian accent. A stir greeted his words, a few of the cadets shaking their heads and chuckling.

"On behalf of the USMC, the faculty, and the staff of this ship,
Star
Voyager
Academy
, I extend greetings to all of you. Now, you've heard this before but you're going to hear it again call it my yearly ritual speech."

He paused for a moment, his features set in a serious expression.

"You are the best of the best.
Gathered here today are seven thousand young men and women from Earth, the Moon, the orbital colonies, and outward to the farthest reaches of the solar system" he paused again for a brief instant, "and yes, even from Mars."

No one spoke at his mention of the breakaway colony.

Justin quickly scanned the room. Only two weeks ago word of Mars' Declaration of Secession from the UN and Colonies Space Commission had come, and over a dozen cadets from his scrub summer class had withdrawn to return home. The
holo
news had dwelt on little else while he was at home on Earth, and speculation was high that the crisis could very well spread and perhaps even erupt into a civil war.

"All of you have a tough year ahead. You upper-classmen have heard me say that every year, and you've thought nothing could be tougher than what you just went through; and you've learned that I was right. Those of you who recently survived scrub summer know that you started out with over two thousand classmates back in June, you're returning now in September with a class of thirteen hundred twenty-two. This year's senior class started out just like you and this morning we have two hundred and three sitting in the front rows, with another sixty-seven still out on assignments. I expect that around two hundred and fifty will finally graduate. You can figure out the math on your own.

"Remember the most basic
rule'In
space there are no second chances.' You first-year plebes, if you screw it up at this stage of the game, at worst you'll wind up just killing yourself, but by the time you reach your senior year you'll be taking on the full responsibilities of an officer with the USMC and a mistake could cost the lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands."

He again stood silent. Justin knew what was coming.

"Yesterday's incident with the
Daedalus
illustrates that well enough."

A low murmur swept the room. Six senior cadets and one hundred eighty colonists were killed when a section of an orbital unit suffered a massive decompression. Indications were that one of the six might have been responsible, from a failure to thoroughly check an internal airlock system just moments before a meteor impact punched through three decks. Once the bodies were recovered the six would receive full military honors, but if the fault was ever pinned on any one individual the name would be made public and the mistake openly reviewed. No one ever wanted to be another Cadet Hansen, who was single-handedly responsible for the accidental destruction of the
Oak Forest colony and the nearly three thousand residents on board. His name was now synonymous with being a major screw up; "to pull a Hansen" was one of the worst insults an instructor could hand a cadet.

"You are the best and I expect the best from you at all times,"
Thorsson
continued. "This is a dangerous life you've signed on for, but as they used to say, 'it goes with the territory.' Our territory is space, die endless frontier, the beginning of an adventure that will take us outward into the eternal sea of stars. No frontier has ever been settled without a price and you are the ones who will, more often than not, have to pay that price. We lost eighty-seven cadets last year, and a hundred and twenty-nine were seriously injured. Now, there are some on Earth who whine that the price we expect of our next generation is too high and you know what I have
say
about that."

He smiled and many in the room chuckled, remembering the famous and rather scatological statement made before a hearing committee which had been convened to investigate the so-called "unacceptable risks and casualties" associated with the Academy.

"No society in the history of the human race has ever advanced without taking risks. In your history classes you learned about the great Chinese explorers of the 14th and early 15th centuries who sailed as far as
Zanzibar aboard three-
masted
ships. They were on the very edge of leaping outward, of sweeping the world, but then their new emperor lost his nerve and declared that the risk, the lives, and the money involved were too great. And so it was that less than a hundred years later the Portuguese came to them instead, with disastrous results for that ancient empire.

"My own ancestors sailed the open seas in then-longboats and perished by the thousands in the doing of it. All of you have learned that most basic of principles taught by history, that they who do not explore, expand, and achieve will be replaced by others who do. I remember one of my favorite quotes, from Scott of Antarctica, the great British explorer who perished on his quest to reach the South Pole. One of his last diary entries made when he knew he was dying stands, in its simple eloquence, as a guiding beacon for the spirit of what we are, in both triumph and defeat. He wrote, "
We
took risks, we knew we took them, and things have come out against us, therefore we have no need for complaint.'"

Thorsson
stepped from behind his podium and began to pace the stage.

"That is what we are!
Stoic both in defeat and in triumph.
That is the spirit which must shape us, and, in the shaping, lead us onward to the stars."

He smiled softly.

"For the stars await us. You all know what I have done, where I have been. I first went into space over forty years ago, aboard the last flight of the old United States Shuttle Two. I even witnessed a flight of the original shuttle when I was a boy back in 1997.1 was on the first team to go to Mars and the second team to orbit Jupiter. And yet I would trade all of that, all of it, to be where you now are. And that's not just an old man wishing to be young again.
Not at all.
For I believe that before much longer you young men and women will lead the way on the journey to the stars.

"If Earth is our nursery, then the solar system is our playground, our backyard realm of adventures. But pretty soon, far sooner than anyone dares imagine, we will be setting sail for Alpha Centauri, Wolfs Star, Betelgeuse and Sirius. I'm not giving away any great secrets here. Maybe we'll crack the secret of that alien ship we are reassembling and master light speed, or maybe we'll go the long slow way at a fraction of light speed aboard Ark ships, but one way or the other we will go!"

Justin found himself nodding excitedly.
Thorsson
had just alluded to the greatest non-secret of everyone involved in space. Nine years back the mysterious raiders, known simply as the
Tracs
, had staged an attack and destroyed several colonies.
Thorsson
himself had managed to bag one of the
Trac
ships, and even now it was reported that recovery teams were scouring a billion cubic kilometers of space looking for wreckage and parts in a painstaking effort to put the ship back together, piece by piece.

Mankind had known that someone or something else was out there for forty-five years, ever since the SETI project, the "Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence," had confirmed a clear signal being detected from
Proximus
Gemini. Ten years later the first of three
Trac
raids had occurred. Who they were, where they came from, what they even looked like was a complete mystery. No one even knew if the SETI programs decision to beam a signal back had been the trigger for the attacks.

All humanity had to go on was the scattered wreckage of a ship the task of reassembling it equivalent to putting together a million-piece three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle without even knowing what it would look like once it was done. If the machine was ever put back together, and someone could then figure out how to activate it, mankind was on its way to the stars. But even if that failed there was still the Ark ship program of building habitats to accommodate twenty thousand people for journeys of thirty years or more until the nearest star was reached.

It was one of
Thorsson's
favorite programs; during scrub summer he had lectured about it to Justin's class. He compared the journey to that of 19th-century colonists and whalers braving the Horn on trips lasting up to a year or more into the South Pacific.

Thorsson
slowly scanned his audience as if he were already searching for volunteer crews who would leave Earth forever, and in spite of the fears and anxieties he had yet to completely ditch about space
flight,
Justin knew he would go if
Thorsson
asked him.

"There is one thing, though, one thing that can stop us from fulfilling our destinies,"
Thorsson
said at length, interrupting Justin's thoughts. "And it is not the
Tracs
. Oh, they're out there that's one of the reasons we must go forward, to meet them in their backyard, and not ours. Perhaps we can make an arrangement with them, but history shows that more often than not when two cultures collide, the weaker one will suffer. For that reason alone we must forge ahead. But that is not my fear, not now. Rather it is the events sweeping our system the separatist movements."

Justin looked over at Matt and saw his friend shift in his chair. Matt was in quiet support of the movement, and he feared that maybe the UN had issued some sort of decree or was about to require an oath of some sort. If they did, he knew Matt would refuse, if only as a matter of principle, being a very pig-headed solar sailor.

"As you all know, two weeks ago the Mars Assembly issued a decree of noncompliance with the United Nations and Colonies Space Commission, and also with the USMC. The Assembly has called for and I quote, 'A First Continental Congress of Space to decide whether these colonies shall declare themselves free and independent states.'

Matt smiled and nodded his head, and Justin saw more than one of his classmates doing the same.

"I want to emphasize right now that this is not a declaration of rebellion, no matter what the
holo
newscasters might be shrieking about, either from Earth or anywhere else. When you've been around awhile, you learn that if you've heard it on the news, chances are you better not believe it especially when it's one of those blow-dried fools doing the pronouncing rather than the people who are actually involved in the story.

"Those of you who were here for scrub summer know we lost a dozen cadets from Mars and two instructors who decided to return home. Now I want to make something damn clear to all of you."

The mere fact that
Thorsson
had just used the mildest of profanities caused a stir in the audience and the entire hall became as silent as a tomb.

"We are all brothers and sisters aboard this ship and in the service, united by the common dream of leading humanity to the stars. That is why I fought for twenty years to have this Academy
created,
it is why I refused postings far more senior than my current rank simply so I could be here with you, our future. We will not, and I repeat, we will not let the politicians and hotheads of either side destroy that bond. It will not be.
destroyed
never!"

His words echoed in the assembly hall like the crack of a rifle.

"If I hear of any cadet, staff, or faculty member who uses the word 'traitor' or otherwise attacks a shipmate for supporting either side, I can promise you that you will have a very swift passage home. Do I make myself clear on this?"

No one in the audience even dared to move. In his brief exposure to
Thorsson
over the summer Justin had come to regard the man as a stern but kindly grandfather. Now he was seeing another side, one that was as hard as steel, and, if needs be, capable of bringing down a career without batting an eye.

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