Space Cadet (18 page)

Matt still looked troubled. “Not satisfied?” Wong went on. “Matt, you are suffering from a disease of youth—you expect moral problems to have nice, neat, black-and-white answers. Suppose you relax and let me worry about whether or not you have what it takes. Oh, some day you’ll be caught in a squeeze and no one around to tell you the right answer. But
I
have to decide whether or not
you
can get the right answer when the problem comes along—and I don’t even know what your problem will be! How would you like to be in my boots?”

Matt grinned sheepishly. “I wouldn’t like it.”

Oscar, Matt, and Tex were gathered in their common room just before lunch when Pete bounced in. Literally so—he caromed off the door frame and zipped into the room, shouting, “Hey, fellows!”

Oscar grabbed his arms as he rebounded from the inner wall. “Cut your jet and ground—what’s the excitement?”

Peter turned in the air and faced them. “The new ‘Passed’ list is posted!”

“Who’s on it?”

“Don’t know—just heard about it. Come on!”

They streamed after him. Tex came abreast of Matt and said, “I don’t know why I should be getting in a sweat—
I
won’t be on it.”

“Pessimist!” They turned out of Hog Alley, went inboard three decks, and forward. There was a clot of cadets gathered around the bulletin board outside the watch office. They crowded in.

Pete spotted his own name at once. “Look!” The paragraph read: “Armand, Pierre—temporary duty P.R.S.
Charles’ Wain
, rpt. Terr.St, dtch. Leda, Gnymd, d.&a.o.”

“Look!” he repeated. “
I’m going home
—‘delay and await orders.’”

Oscar patted his shoulder. “Congratulations, Pete—that’s swell. Now if you will kindly get your carcass out of the way—”

Matt spoke up. “I’m on it!”

“What ship?” asked Tex.

“The
Aes Triplex
.”

Oscar turned at this. “
What
ship?”

“
Aes Triplex
.”

“Matt—that’s
my
ship. We’re shipmates, boy!”

Tex turned disconsolately away. “Just as I said—no ‘Jarman.’ I’ll be here five years, ten years, fifteen years—old and grizzled. Promise to write on my birthday.”

“Gee, Tex, I’m sorry!” Matt tried to swallow his own elation.

“Tex, did you look on the other half of the list?” Pete wanted to know.

“What other half? Huh?”

Pete pointed. Tex dove back into the swarm; presently he reappeared. “What do you know? They passed me!”

“Probably didn’t want to expose another class of youngsters to you. What ship?”

“P.R.S.
Oak Ridge
. Say, you and Oscar got the same ship?”

“Yep—the
Aes Triplex
.”

“Rank discrimination, that’s what it is. Well, come on, we’ll be late to lunch.”

They ran into Girard Burke in the passageway. Tex stopped him. “No use bothering to look, Stinky. Your name’s not on the list.”

“What list? Oh, you mean the ‘Passed’ list. Don’t bother me, children—you’re talking to a free man.”

“So they finally bounced you?”

“Like fun! Resignation accepted, effective today. I’m going in business with my father.”

“Going to build sky junk, eh? I don’t envy you.”

“No, we’re starting an export line, with our own ships. The next time you see me, just remember to address me as ‘Captain.’” He moved away.

“I’ll ‘captain’ him,” Tex muttered. “I’ll bet he resigned by request.”

“Maybe not,” conceded Matt. “Girard is a smooth character. Well, we’ve seen the last of him.”

“And a good thing, too.”

Tex was missing after lunch. He showed up after nearly two hours. “I worked it. Shake hands with your new shipmate.”

“Huh? No fooling!”

“Fact. First I located Dvorak and convinced him that he would rather have a ship in the circum-Terra patrol than the
Aes Triplex
—so he could see his girl oftener. Then I went to see the Commandant and pointed out to him that you guys were used to having the benefit of my advice and would be lost without it. That’s all there was to it. The Commandant saw the wisdom of my words and approved the swap with Dvorak.”

“Not for that reason, I’ll bet,” Matt answered. “Probably he wanted me to continue to look out for you.”

Tex took on an odd look. “Do you know, Matt, you aren’t so far wrong.”

“Really? I was just kidding.”

“What he did say was that he thought Cadet Jensen would be a good influence on me. What do you think of that, Oscar?”

Oscar snorted. “If I’ve reached the place where I’m a good influence on anybody, it’s time I cultivated some new vices.”

“I’d be glad to help.”

“I don’t want you, I want your Uncle Bodie—there’s a man of the world.”

Three weeks later, at Moon Base, Oscar and Matt were settling into their stateroom in the
Aes Triplex
. Matt was not feeling his best; the previous evening at Tycho Colony had been late and noisy. They had taken the last possible shuttle to Moon Base.

The ship’s phone in their room sounded; Matt answered it to get the squeal out of his ears. “Yes? Cadet Dodson speaking—”

“Officer of the watch. Is Jensen there too?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Both of you report to the Captain.”

“Aye aye, sir.” Matt turned a troubled face to Oscar. “What’ll I do, Oz? The rest of my uniforms are over at the base tailor shop—and this one I’ve got on looks as if I had slept in it.”

“You did. Wear one of mine.”

“Thanks, but it would fit me like socks on a rooster. Do you suppose I have time to run over and pick up my clean ones?”

“Hardly!”

Matt rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I ought to shave, anyhow.”

“Look,” said Oscar, “if I’m any judge of skippers, you’ll do better to show up naked as an oyster and with a beard down to here, than to keep him waiting. Let’s get going.”

The door opened and Tex stuck his head in. “Say—did you guys get a call to report to the Old Man?”

“Yes—Tex, can you lend me a clean uniform?”

Tex could. Matt crossed the passageway to Tex’s tiny room and changed. He belted in tightly at the waist, distributed the wrinkles in back, and hoped for the best. The three headed for the cabin.

“I’m glad I don’t have to report by myself,” Tex announced. “I’m nervous.”

“Relax,” Oscar advised. “Captain McAndrews is supposed to be a very human sort of a guy.”

“Hadn’t you heard? McAndrews is detached—busted his ankle. At the last minute the Department ordered Captain Yancey to command the expedition.”

“Yancey!” Oscar let out a low whistle. “Oh, my sore feet!”

“What’s the matter, Oscar?” Matt demanded. “You know him?”

“My father knew him. Father had the fresh-foods contract for the port at New Auckland when Yancey—Lieutenant Yancey, then—was portmaster.” They stopped outside the commanding officer’s cabin.

“That ought to give you an inside track.”

“Not likely! They didn’t get along.”

“I wonder if I did right,” Tex mused darkly, “when I wangled the swap from the
Oak Ridge
?”

“Too late to fret. Well, I guess we might—” Oscar stopped speaking, for the door in front of them suddenly opened and they found themselves facing the commanding officer. He was tall, wide-shouldered, and flat-hipped, and so handsome that he looked like a television star playing a Patrol officer.

“Well?” he snapped. “Don’t stand chatting outside my door. Come in!”

They filed in silently. Captain Yancey sat down, facing them, and looked them over, one after the other. “What’s the trouble, gentlemen?” he said presently. “Are you all struck dumb?”

Tex found his voice. “Cadet Jarman, sir, reporting to the Captain.” Yancey’s eyes flicked over to Matt.

Matt wet his lips. “Cadet Dodson, sir.”

“Cadet Jensen, sir, reporting as ordered.” The office looked at Oscar sharply, then spoke to him in Venerian.

“
Do these ears detect some echo of the speech of the Fair Planet
?

“
It is true, thou old and wise one
.”

“Never could stand that silly talk,” Yancey commented, relapsing into Basic. “I won’t ask you where you are from, but—is your father in the provisions racket?”

“My father is a food wholesaler, sir.”

“I thought so.” The Captain continued to look at him for a moment, then turned to Matt. “Now, Mister, what is the idea of the masquerade? You look like a refugee from an emigrant ship.”

Matt tried to explain; Yancey cut him short. “I’m not interested in excuses. I keep a taut ship. Remember that.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

The Captain settled back and struck a cigarette. “Now, gentlemen, you are no doubt wondering as to why I sent for you. I must admit to a slight curiosity as to the sort of product the old school is turning out. In my day, it was a real course of sprouts and no nonsense about it. But now I understand that the psychologists have taken over and the old rules are all changed.”

He leaned forward and fixed Matt with his eyes. “They aren’t changed here, gentlemen. In my ship, the old rules still obtain.”

No one answered. Yancey waited, then went on, “The regulations state that you shall pay a social call on your commanding officer within twenty-four hours after reporting to a new ship or station. Please consider that the social call has commenced. Sit down, gentlemen. Mr. Dodson, you will find coffee over there on your left. Will you please favor me by pouring it?”

Forty minutes later they left, feeling quite confused. Yancey had demonstrated that he could put them most charmingly at their ease and had displayed a dry, warm wit and a gift for telling anecdotes. Matt decided that he liked him.

But just as they left Yancey glanced at his clock and laid, “I’ll see you later, Mr. Dodson—in fifteen minutes.”

Once they were outside Tex demanded, “What’s he want to see you for, Matt?”

“Can’t you guess?” answered Oscar. “Look, Matt, I’ll tear over to the tailor shop for you—you can’t do that and shave, too, not in fifteen minutes.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Oz!”

P.R.S.
AES Triplex
blasted from Moon Base thirteen hours later in a trajectory intended to produce an elliptical orbit with its far end in the asteroid belt. Her orders were to search for the missing P.R.S.
Pathfinder
. The
Pathfinder
had been engaged in radar-charting a sector of the asteroid belt for the Uranographic Office of the Patrol. Her mission had taken her beyond the range of ship-type radio; nevertheless she should have reported in by radio nearly six months earlier, at which time she should have been approaching conjunction with Mars. But Deimos Station, around Mars, had been unable to raise the
Pathfinder
; she was presumed lost.

The possible locations of the
Pathfinder
were a moving zone in space, defined by using geometry, ballistics, the characteristics of the ship, her mission, and her last reported location, course, and speed. This zone was divided into four sectors and the
Aes Triplex
was to search one sector while three other Patrol vessels covered the other sectors. The joint task was designated “Operation Samaritan” but each ship was independent as they necessarily would be too far apart to be commanded as a task force.

While searching, the rescue vessels would continue the
Pathfinder
’s mission of charting the space drift that clutters the asteroid belt.

In addition to the commanding officer and the three cadets, the company of the
Aes Triplex
included Commander Hartley Miller, executive officer and astrogator, Lieutenant Novak, Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Thurlow, Bomb Officer, Lieutenant Brunn, Communications Officer, Sublieutenants Peters, Gomez, and Cleary, assistant engineer and communications watch officers respectively, and Dr. Pickering, ship’s surgeon, along to care for survivors—if any were found.

The ship contained no marines, unless one chooses to count Dr. Pickering, who was technically a staff corps member of the marines rather than a member of the Patrol. I think every task in the ship would be performed by the officers or cadets. Time was when the lowliest subaltern in an infantry regiment had his personal servant, but servants are so expensive a luxury in terms of fuel and space and food to lift through millions of miles of space. Besides that, a few manual tasks are a welcome relief from boredom in the endless monotony of space; even the undesirable chore of cleaning the refresher was taken in turn by the entire ship’s company, in accordance with custom, except for the Captain, the Executive Officer, and the Surgeon.

Captain Yancey assigned Lieutenant Thurlow as training officer who in turn set up the jobs of assistant astrogator, junior communication watch officer, junior assistant engineer, and assistant bomb officer and arranged a schedule of rotation among these—quite unnecessary—positions. It was also Mr. Thurlow’s job to see to it that Matt, Oscar, and Tex made intensive use of the one study projector available to the cadets.

The Executive Officer assigned other tasks not directly concerned with formal training. Matt was appointed the ship’s “farmer.” As the hydroponics tanks supply both fresh air and green vegetables to a ship he was responsible for the ship’s air-conditioning and shared with Lieutenant Brunn the tasks of the ship’s mess.