“Damned mudballers think that of all of us Rock Rats,” Katie said with heat. “They don’t think we’re really human.”
“It’s neither here, nor there. Where ever you go you’re going to find prejudice,” Sam said. “People aren’t really meant to live in anything bigger than small groups. It takes imagination and civilization both to get them to treat people they don’t know the same as those they do, as other people rather than threatening alien animals that look a little similar.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Katie said. Arms still crossed, but with skepticism in her eyes, and not defensive anger on her face any longer.
“I’m afraid not,” Sam said. “It’s not something people like to admit to, but did you know that on parts of Earth there’s people that would consider me a dangerous sub-human just because my skin is a lot darker than theirs?”
“Didn’t they solve that with the American Civil War?” Katie asked.
“Not exactly,” Sam said smiling. The extent of racism and its persistence were apparently a complete mystery to Katie, and in a way he supposed that was progress.
“Anyhow they had us outnumbered, and they were talking about how they could hurt us both in ways that wouldn’t show,” Katie said. “They said it’d be our word against theirs and no one would believe us.”
“I wasn’t there,” Sam admitted. “Perhaps it was the best you could do, but think on it. Could you have done better? Twisted his arm rather than slamming him in the head and threatening to gouge his eye out?”
“I’m not sure,” Katie said. “Didn’t have much time to think then, but even now I’m not sure.”
“That’s fair,” Sam said. “Sometimes there’s no way of knowing. Not for sure, if you’re honest. Only, try to think as much as you can afford about these things. Fights have consequences. Maybe limited time right at the moment, but before if you can.”
“Not planning, is planning to fail,” Katie interjected. Quoting himself at himself again.
“And ‘Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance’”, Sam elaborated. “Nice that you listen sometimes. As I was about to say, and afterwards too if you can. Don’t agonize, but do try and learn. Please, Katie.”
Katie’s expression softened at his plead. “I’ll try. I promise,” she said.
“It’s all I can ask,” Sam said. “Let’s move on. Billy and his boys are going to be spreading rumors. His Dad too, though Guy will be a lot more subtle about it.”
“Mr. Boucher is a friend of the Commander’s,” Katie said in a desolate tone.
“Yeah, but one thing you can say about Yuri Tretyak, he might have too much starch in his uniform, but he genuinely tries to stay on the straight and narrow,” Sam said. “He’s not going to give credence to unsubstantiated innuendo even from someone he thinks of as a friend.”
“He’s not?”
“No, he’ll consciously try to be fair,” Sam said. “Not saying it won’t influence him especially if you don’t have a different better version of events to put out yourself.”
“Thing is,” Katie said, perhaps blushing a little. She was so fair it seemed she was always blushing. “Is that I don’t know what story they’re going to put out, and the full blunt truth doesn’t really look that good for me.”
Sam didn’t answer. He’d let her figure it out for herself.
“I horned in on a dispute that wasn’t mine, then I injured Billy, and badly, and I threatened to do much worse,” Katie said. “That doesn’t look good. Sure, they had us outnumbered, and were set up to lay a beating on us. Only I attacked first and won. People’ll have to think it wasn’t that one sided.”
Sam just nodded. “Not much to be done for it,” he said. “Anyone asks questions answer honestly without trying to shade it or elaborate. If you can’t make it better at least don’t make it worse.”
“Still isn’t going to look good, is it?” Katie said. “Was already a stretch expecting the Commander’s endorsement. He hates me, and he hates my family. Don’t know why, this place wouldn’t be half so profitable without us, but he does. Hoped if I kept my nose clean and didn’t provoke him he’d go along just to avoid a fuss. Not a man that likes fuss much.”
“Which answers your question,” Sam said. “Neat, tidy, and no fuss is not how I’d describe Dave and Allie.”
“No, Murphy knows, Mom and Dad aren’t naturally neat and tidy,” Katie said. “They worry me sick at times.”
“I’m sure you’ve never forgotten to properly stow a tool,” Sam said, “but I don’t think you can claim you never create a fuss.”
Katie frowned. “If people would simply do things right, I’d never say anything.”
“But they don’t and you do, and it ruffles feathers,” Sam said.
“So what do I do?” Katie asked again.
“You deal with the problem straight on,” Sam said.
“I march into the Commander’s office and tell him he’s going to endorse me?” Katie asked.
“I think it’d work better to be a little more circumspect than that,” Sam answered. “Ask him what his objections are and what you can do to alleviate them.”
“Just like that.”
“Just so.”
“It’s not going to be easy.”
“No. He’ll go through the motions but he’ll ask you to do things you won’t like and aren’t good at. Which are plain hard. You’ll have to suck it up, girl.”
“I’ll think of it as a test of courage,” she answered.
* * *
Katie had always found sitting still for the regular family meals excruciatingly painful. She liked to be moving. Always.
This was as true for remote virtual family meals as much as it was for the in person we’re all sitting around the same table ones. More so even as when getting together remotely to eat at the same time her parents felt obligated to pay her more direct attention.
Her parents were lovable and caring. They wanted her to be happy. They were always pleasant and courteous and infinitely patient. They were also completely clueless goofballs. In the nicest possible way, she didn’t agree with them about much of anything. Being her parents, they of course got their way whenever that disagreement came to a head. Hence her current presence on Ceres. Hence her discomfort with their attention.
She had to tell them about the invitation to the Academy. She needed to convince them to let her go. For the next couple of years at least she’d need their permission to do so. Unfortunately they weren’t fans of Earth or the Academy.
She’d hoped to slip it into the conversation in a careful controlled way and leave them on a back foot. They didn’t like to be negative, sometimes she could use that. It’d be harder if they were actively engaged and paying attention.
She placed her meal on her desk in front of her screen and made the connection to the Dawn Threader.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” she said when her parents and the food in front of them appeared on the screen. She hoped they were being careful about not generating too many crumbs when she wasn’t there to clean up after them.
“Hi, dear,” her mother said. “How are your studies going?”
Her father looked on expectantly. Katie had really hoped they’d open by telling her how their day had been going. Time to bite the bullet. “Wonderful news!” she exclaimed with all the chipper, buoyant charm she could muster. “I’ve got an invitation to apply to the Space Force Academy. I must have done really well on the standardized tests. Isn’t it great?”
Her mother’s smile became forced. Her father failed to manage that much. He looked despondent. “You’re still only fifteen, dear,” her mother said. “Most of the new cadets start at the Academy when they’re eighteen. It’s only a few years, but that’s a lot at your age. I think it might be better to wait.”
“Mom, the Academy rarely issues multiple invitations to the same candidate,” Katie replied. She’d been dreading this conversation. Hadn’t stopped her thinking it through. “Almost wish hadn
’t done so well on the exams, but this might be my last and only chance. We can’t risk missing it.”
“I see, dear,” her mother replied.
“You know, Katie,” her father said. “We had friends and family go to the Academy. It’s not free form like school on Ceres or home schooling here on the Dawn Threader. It’s very regimented. Apparently, they schedule every minute of your day and try to control every aspect of your life. Very rigid and militaristic about it from what I’ve heard.”
“Yes, dear,” her mother said taking up the point. “You know that at heart you’re a free spirit like us. You wouldn’t fit in there at all.”
“I can be very disciplined when I want to,” Katie insisted. “Anyhow it’s not because I think it’ll be easy that want to go there, it’s exactly because I think it’ll be hard. I want the challenge.”
“Well, that’s admirable, dear,” her mother said. Katie tried not to be annoyed at what seemed a condescending tone to her. “But,” her mother continued, “you might feel differently after you’ve been there a while. In any case, we need you here. You’re so good at maintenance and engineering. Besides, this one in two watch schedule leaves us no time for ourselves or even each other. As a temporary thing that’s acceptable, but not permanently.”
Katie completely agreed with her mother that running the Dawn Threader with only two watchkeepers wasn’t sustainable. She also didn’t doubt a back list of maintenance tasks were building up. Only she didn’t plan to spend her whole life babysitting her parents, no matter how adorable and needy they were. “You should have hired outside crew years ago, Mom,” she said.
“We don’t want crew,” her mother replied. “We came out her to get away from other people. To be practical it’d cut into our profits. Make it hard to profit at all.”
“Mom, however much you might want it, I can’t stay in the nest forever,” Katie retorted. “You need outside crew. Always have. Commander Tretyak was always right about that. We’ve been running short handed and at a much slower operational pace than we could. A faster survey pace would mean more revenue and more than pay for the extra crew. Besides, the Dawn Threader isn’t brand new any more, you need a dedicated engineer. Older ships require more tender loving care.”
“Well, we’ve tried to give you room to do your own thing,” her mother said. Her father nodded in agreement beside her. “But we’ve always hoped you’d find a nice boy like Calvin, say, and stay in the Belt with us. Inherit the ship when we’re too old to work. Hoped you’d have kids of your own to take up the slack by then.”
Katie took a breath, and tried not to let her feelings show on her face. Her mother’s dream was Katie’s worst nightmare. Katie had nothing against Calvin, but that didn’t mean she wanted to settle down and have kids with him. All the while living in close quarters with her parents. She could see doing it. She most certainly did not want to. She didn’t think it was fair of her parents to try and make her do it. “Not going to happen, Mother,” she said. Much colder and more determined than she’d intended.
Her mother looked shocked.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Katie said. “I want a chance to decide my own life. I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind, but I want this chance to go to the Academy. You have the legal right to prevent me from going now, and probably ever. You do that and I’ll leave in a couple of years anyways.”
“You can’t mean that, dear,” her mother said. Her father laid a hand on her mother’s shoulder and looked at Katie with a distressed expression, but said nothing out loud.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Katie replied. “I really am, but I do mean that. You can accept this in good grace, or we can have the sort of break you and Dad made with your own parents. I don’t think any of us want that.”
“No, dear. Your father and I don’t want that.” She sighed. “Being stubborn must run in the family. Both families. I can’t see Commander Tretyak endorsing your application anyways. Never thought I’d agree with Tretyak on something. We’ve got no need to fight and generate hard feelings.”
“Please, Mom,” Katie asked. “Don’t do anything to make this harder.”
“Katie, me and your mom will give you your head,” her father said finally speaking up. “We won’t pressure you. We won’t do anything to further antagonize Tretyak. If he endorses your application and it’s accepted we’ll give permission for you to go to the Academy. Promise. Okay?”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Good, let’s forget all this for the time being and try to enjoy the rest of our meal,” he replied.
Which they did. Eating and talking pleasantly about things none of them really cared about much. They all ignored the gloomy elephant sharing their video session.
Katie wondered if things would ever be the same again.
* * *
Katie had little trouble finding Commander Tretyak’s office, though it didn’t stand out in any way.
Say whatever you wanted about the man, he didn’t give himself airs. She’d heard it said he used his bare bones approach to everything as a kind of intimidation. That he set out to present himself as a distillation of duty and self sacrifice without weakness or anything in the way of self interest, only duty. The man was intimidating. Katie was willing to believe it wasn’t deliberate, that it was simply who he was.
He was too consistent and too lacking in ostentatious flair for her to think otherwise. Katie had set herself on a course to embody a few simple, but difficult to follow, principles. She was willing to sacrifice everything to her goals. She thought she could understand someone who’d chosen to do the same.
So Tretyak not having a fancy receptionist in a fancy waiting room, or anything that made his place of work stand out from anyone else’s didn’t surprise her. She went down the corridor of the block of offices for the local Space Force HQ the directory outside on the main concourse had indicated and had no trouble finding the office labeled with the Commander’s name.
She was impressed with the lack of pretense. She was even more impressed with the speed with which the Commander had made time for her when she’d called that morning. He’d answered the call himself, listened to her, and asked if first thing after lunch was good. No fuss, no muss, right to the point. She liked that. Her parents had never been impressed with Commander Tretyak. She was having doubts about their judgment in that regard.
Anyhow enough wool gathering. No getting cold feet now. She knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came a man’s voice.
She opened the door and marched in.
Commander Tretyak was seated at his desk, scribbling away at a pad with a stylus. He didn’t look up or otherwise acknowledge her.
Katie wondered what she was supposed to do. This smelled like a test.
She looked about. There were no plants or paintings on the wall. Nothing on the walls, in fact. All the officers in the vids had what Sam called “I-love-me” walls. Not Tretyak. Interesting. Also interesting was an empty chair in front of Tretyak’s desk. Another two chairs sat by a small table and a refreshments cart. Otherwise, the office was barren of anything not related to work. Was she supposed to choose a chair to sit in?
Was that the test? No, this was a test of patience and self discipline. She waited just standing calmly and quietly.
After a few minutes that seemed longer, the Commander looked up and smiled slightly. Maybe she’d passed. “Would you like coffee, tea, juice?” he asked.
“Tea would be fine,” Katie replied. Her mother was a tea drinker and Katie preferred it, as she suspected the Commander did.
Commander Tretyak stood up and gestured towards the chairs and small table. “Take a seat,” he said. “You don’t prefer coffee or cola? Most native Belters seem to.”
“No, Mom likes tea and I learned it from her,” Katie replied as she moved to sit herself down. “Coffee is a kick in the brain cells, but tea is more relaxing. More civilized.”
His lips twitched as he sat down. “That’s one thing we
agree on then,” he said. “I’m somewhat surprised.”
“You’re very different people, I think. Though I don’t know you well that much is apparent,” Katie said.
“Yes,” the Commander agreed, “there’s a lot we don’t agree on. But we’re not here to talk about your parents, are we? We’re here to talk about you and your invitation to the Academy, yes?”
“That’s right,” Katie said. “I suspect given the friction between you and my parents and what you’ve likely heard about me that you might be reluctant to endorse my application. Is that right?”
The Commander reaching over to the refreshments cart assembled plain, but fine, china on the little table and finally poured them both some steaming hot tea. “Milk, Sugar?” he asked.
“Just milk,” Katie answered.
He added it and answered her question as she took a sip. “You’re not mistaken.”
“I’m curious as to why,” Katie said, trying for a detached tone. “Mostly, I’d like to know what I can do to assuage your concerns.”
“Right to the point. I like that,” he replied. “I don’t think you’ve got the background to fit in at the Academy and succeed there. If by some miracle you were able to scrape through, I think you’d be a poor fit to the Space Force. I don’t think your candidacy is in the interests of the Space Force. I don’t think it’s in yours either if I may presume.”
“For clarity’s sake may I presume that the problem’s not with my academics, or whether I’m physically up to it, or my individual competence?” Katie asked.
“Formally speaking you’re academically outstanding,” the Commander replied. “You greatly exceed the standard, the already high standard, set by the Admissions Board. I think you’ve focused far too narrowly on scientific and technical subjects. Unlike most Belters, I think you’re up to the physical demands of the Academy, and as an individual you seem quite competent, especially at solving purely technical problems.”
“Thank you,” Katie said. “So you think my education has been too narrowly technical and you doubt my ability to work in groups.” Katie knew he thought her parents were irresponsible and disrespectful of authority, and she suspected he thought she was the same. He doubtless had doubts about her character too, but she didn’t want to be the one to open that can of worms.
Katie Kincaid Candidate: Katie Kincaid One Page 3