Katie Kincaid Space Cadet
Page 7
“The head of the Space Force?”
“Oooh, you know who the head of the Space Force is,” Colleen teased.
“I’m not that bad,” Katie insisted.
“I’m afraid you are,” Colleen retorted. “I’m serious. We really have to pry some time free and go over all the background information about the people in the service everybody else knows and you don’t. Christmas maybe.”
“Well, if it’s that urgent, I guess so,” Katie replied.
“Seriously,” Colleen said, “I think that’s the first free time I’m going to get and as far as I can tell I’m not as overbooked as you are.”
Katie nodded. It was true. She had three urgent uses for every minute of the day. She was glad the Academy had been emphatic they weren’t to skimp on sleep or exercise. Otherwise she’d be wrecking her health trying to keep up. Right now she had studying she needed to do. More mathematical proofs and something on the development of the novel in the sixteenth century. They both had deliverables worth marks. Better get on with it.
“Anyhow,” Katie said, sitting down on the edge of her own bed. “I got a letter from her.” She waved the article in question at Colleen.
Colleen snatched it from her and stared at the addresses on the envelope. “Stars in the heavens above,” she said reverently. “So you do.” She handed the letter back to Katie much more carefully than she’d taken it.
Katie retrieved her prize. “How are you supposed to open and read one of these things?” she asked.
Colleen stood and went over to her locker. “Well, true ladies have letter openers,” she said, “but we have something just as good.” She pulled out the gleaming, wickedly sharp bayonet she’d been issued. They were learning weapons drill now. One cadet had already managed to slash his hand during an order arms with fixed bayonets. Precision in drill with fixed bayonets was important.
“Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?” Colleen asked.
Katie handed her the letter wordlessly.
Colleen carefully inserted the point of the bayonet under one corner of the letter’s folded flap and delicately sawed it open. The job done, she fished a folded piece of paper out of the envelope and handed it to Katie.
Katie unfolded the thick creamy paper. On it was more hand writing like that on the envelope’s front.
“Dear Cadet Kincaid:
“My granddaughter, though I’m not sure your mother ever informed you of the fact. My daughter, your mother, and I have not spoken or communicated in any way since before you were born. Her wish, not mine. I have attempted to follow her life and yours from a distance without being intrusive.
“For reasons it’s not necessary to go into here, your mother was hostile to the Space Force and its mission from an early age. I do not know, but I doubt she gave you the necessary preparation for a career in the Space Force.
“Evidently she did not wish to repeat the mistake I made with her and allowed you to choose your own career without breaking off family ties.
“Since you have chosen such a career, I feel obligated to try to help you with it as best as I honestly can. For better or worse our relationship is unlikely to remain a secret indefinitely. I never deliberately made it one. This fact will undoubtedly affect your career whatever either of us wish.
“It is best we both face up to this fact.
“Additionally, I’m not without family feeling, and in an ideal world would like to have better relations with my granddaughter than I have managed to have with my daughter. Admittedly not a high bar.
“To that end I’m extending an invitation to you to for the Christmas holidays. It’s early, but I wish to forestall the possibility you’ll make other plans.
“I know this may be a surprise and that you’re very busy.
“A prompt and positive response would, nevertheless, be greatly appreciated.
“Yours Sincerely;
“Admiral (ret’d) Katrina Schlossberg”
Katie had known her parents had had parents of their own, of course, but they’d never been willing to discuss them. Beyond the fact they’d come to the Belt to get away from their families, Katie had known nothing. It was a singular fact she’d never questioned.
Now she realized she likely should have. She had no idea what to think about having a grandmother who wanted to get to know her and who could influence her career. Help her maybe, not by pulling strings, but by telling her all the background gossip Colleen had been talking about, perhaps. She didn’t know. It was too much to absorb all at once. She had no idea how she was going to get her head back around to math proofs and sixteenth century literature.
Katie handed the letter to Colleen, who’d been watching her read with curiosity written all over her face.
“Geeze whizz on toast,” Colleen muttered in awe as she read.
“What do you think?” Katie asked her.
“I think you’re Space Force royalty and utterly unprepared for the role,” Colleen said.
“No kidding,” Katie answered. “Does this make things better or worse?”
“No idea,” Colleen answered. “I mean, this is completely out of left field.”
“That’s a baseball metaphor, right?” Katie asked. “Means surprising?”
Colleen’s mouth twisted. “Right,” she answered. “One thing for sure; you’d better accept her invitation promptly.”
Katie carefully inspected both the note and the envelope it’d come in. “She hasn’t included an actual normal address anywhere.”
Colleen sighed. “Formal invitations to personal events in particular are properly done using physical mail and the Post Office,” she explained. She went on to help Katie with the wording of her reply. She also supplied the stationary and pen necessary to writing a physical note.
Colleen offered to write the note, too. Katie was adequate at hand printing, but not good at handwritten script. The skills though controversial were still required by educators in the Belt. The instruction in script was perfunctory. Colleen’s hand was much more presentable, but Katie felt it was important she write the note herself. Colleen did not demur on the point.
It all took the better part of an hour neither of them could afford.
Katie felt profoundly grateful that Colleen went even further and assisted Katie with her mathematics homework. Katie knew Colleen’s marks were good, but not as good as she was used to. Colleen loved math and was as interested in why a function could be differentiated as the fact it could be. Like Katie, however, she had a hard time understanding how the adventures of Don Quixote were relevant to their futures.
It worried Katie to think that maybe Colleen’s help was rooted in sympathy for what a deep hole Katie was in.
Katie didn’t want to need sympathy.
She was afraid the concern might be justified.
* * *
“Splendid, Kincaid,” Coach Svenson stated. Katie had just managed a perfect score on the last firing range of the biathlon course.
It should have pleased Katie. In fact, she should have been in her happy spot having spent the entire evening doing something she enjoyed and was good at. The hard won praise from the not easily impressed Coach should have been merely the cherry on top of the sundae of her general happiness.
It wasn’t so.
Katie was coming to enjoy being outdoors. The air was better. Indoor air control on Earth seemed to be centuries out of date. They may have progressed beyond smoke filled huts, but not far enough by Katie’s reckoning. So getting outdoors somewhere away from smelly vehicles was great as far as she was concerned.
Katie was even learning to take weather in stride. Some of it was acclimatization, some of it was learning all the coping tricks the Earth born knew already like dressing in layers. She was actually starting to enjoy the variable unadjustable climate control of the natural world. The untamed world that was. Breezes were beginning to feel refreshing rather than like failures in air circulation requiring immediate investigation.
Katie had come to enjoy running about in the woods and periodically shooting at things. She loved the biathlon and would have even if she hadn’t enjoyed the sensation of being good at something.
Too bad it was looking like it wasn’t a love she was going to get to indulge.
Katie frowned.
“Something wrong, Kincaid?” the Coach asked.
“Yes, Coach,” Katie answered. “I love this, and it’s great that I’m good at it, but I looked at the schedule the other night. My second year mentor did too. It’s brutal, sir.”
“It is,” the Coach said. “It’s a relatively new sport in North America and at the Academy, which means not much local competition so we have to travel a lot. On the other hand, I believe we have a very good chance of being the national champions, and not only making the continental championship, but the global ones. If we can make a good showing globally, it’ll look very good for the Academy and for everyone on the team. You see?”
“Yes, sir,” Katie said. “And maybe I can hope to make up some of the study on the road, but I can’t get to know my peer group of cadets there and I’m told there’s a peer evaluation mid-year and at the end. I’m that weird Belter girl nobody has ever heard of, I’d like them to have a chance to get to know me better.”
The Coach’s face was carefully blank. After a pause, he spoke. “Yes, the peer evaluation, it’s always been controversial. It has utility in weeding out individuals who are adept in ‘managing up’. That’s a euphemism for ass kissers in case you’re wondering. It has a bad tendency to dissolve into a teenage popularity contest.”
Katie was taken aback. She’d known the Coach could be blunt, but this seemed harsh even for him. Also, she wouldn’t have expected him to share such thoughts with a newly arrived cadet. “It’s still a thing I have to be concerned about, sir,” she said. “Isn’t it?”
“It is,” the Coach agreed, “but I think you should play to your strengths more than your weaknesses. You can’t help not being the average cadet. Make that a good thing. I can help some, by noting you discussed your concerns with me in your file. I’ll record that I counseled you to try to excel at a varsity sport, despite the fact that it’d hurt your studies and your efforts to fit in with the rest of the cadets. Okay?”
Katie had already reluctantly decided the biathlon schedule was too tough, and she was going to have to take up a less demanding sport she wouldn’t be so good at. The Coach’s offer changed things. She wasn’t sure what to do. “Can I have some time to think about it, sir?” she asked.
“We’ve got an event on the weekend,” the Coach answered. “I need to know by noon Friday if you’re going to be available. So you’ve got a day and a half to decide. Sleep on it, talk to some friends, get back to me. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” Katie replied. “Thank you.”
4: What's Your Sport, Kincaid?
Katie hadn’t slept well the night before, despite being exhausted in both mind and body.
Katie’s concentration in her classes during the day hadn’t been ideal either. Katie knew she wasn’t alone in that. There’d been other cadets in some of her classes who’d almost nodded off. She’d seen wobbly heads snap back to attention as they’d almost fallen asleep and then come to. It’d have been funny if it wasn’t so damn serious.
The cadets were all supposed to be getting enough sleep, but the temptation to sneak in study or finish getting one’s gear and room ready for inspection during what was technically lights out was irresistible. Neither the exams nor the inspections could be avoided. Lights out was not as rigorously enforced.
In fact, the older cadets had even rousted them all out of a sound sleep in the wee hours a couple of nights ago. Marched them around in their underwear and bare feet on the cold floors of the barracks, and made them do a bunch of silly embarrassing things, including watching a number of “training films” that were in bad taste. In theory, there wasn’t supposed to be hazing at the Academy.
That theory wasn’t worth a bucket of warm spit, as another cadet had muttered unhappily. At least it was a shared experience with the others.
What wasn’t shared was Katie’s worry over whether to stay on the biathlon team or not.
It was clear as crystal that she’d suffer for the time it took. Wouldn’t help her studies. Wouldn’t help her get to know her fellow first year cadets in her squadron better. Would give her one thing on her record that she was clearly superior at. How much so was unknowable right now. How much it’d impress the people evaluating her at year’s end was unknowable too.
How much it’d hurt her with her peers she’d be going through the Basic Officer Training Course with next summer was also unknowable. It was certain it wouldn’t help. But how much it’d hurt, she didn’t know. She did know from asking around that once a cadet got through the BOTC, the Basic Officer Training Course, that barring a major misstep or a medical problem, they were likely to graduate from the Academy.
So passing BOTC was an important goal.
Katie was so focused on the issue that she hardly noticed Colleen bouncing on the edge of her bed when she entered their room.
“Good news!” Colleen announced. “We’re getting some time off this weekend. A bunch of the girls have invited us to go the Aerospace Museum with them and then have supper and some drinks.”
Katie blinked. She would like a trip to the museum. Supper sounded fine. One thing Earth had was good fresh food. Not Katie’s top priority in life, but she did enjoy it. Drinks? Well, Katie had had the occasional sip of wine at family meals. Her mother had considered it only civilized. As a cadet and member of the Space Force, Katie was deemed an adult citizen. The age limit that applied to civilians her age did not apply to her. She could legally have a drink or two.
“They won’t force you to get drunk, Katie,” Colleen said, as if she’d been reading Katie’s mind. “You can even get something virgin, though sipping a little of a single real drink won’t hurt you any. We’ll keep an eye out for you, don’t worry.”
“It sounds like a lot of fun,” Katie said.
“Yep, and a chance to get to know some of the other cadets,” Colleen said. “Gals, anyway, we can get to know the guys a little better in groups. Best to stay in groups. We’re going to stick out having to wear our dress uniforms as it is. I know you’re feeling short on time, but it’ll be worth it. We all need to relax a little at times.”
“We’re talking Saturday afternoon and evening, right?” Katie asked.
“Of course,” Colleen said. “We get a freebie, Sunday morning, but it’s inspection and classes again Monday.”
“There’s a biathlon event several hours away Saturday afternoon in north central Pennsylvania,” Katie said. “The team will be spending Saturday night in Pittsburgh.”
“Thought you were going to tell Captain Svenson the schedule was just too demanding yesterday,” Colleen said.
“I was,” Katie said, “but he said he’d note my concerns in my file. He said he’d record that he counseled me it was more important to excel at something than to try to be good at everything, and that it’d be the best thing for the Academy.”
Colleen made a face. A face like someone who’d just ate something sour. “And you bought that?”
“I think he’s a straight shooter,” Katie said. “I think his advice made good sense. I want to do more than scrape by here. I’d like to stand out in a positive way. He gave me some time to think it over.”
Colleen took a deep breath. “I understand,” she said. “Only you’ve got to pass this first year and the BOTC to stay in the game at all. We all need each others help, but you need it more than most.”
Katie felt a flash of resentment at that. She buried it. What Colleen had said didn’t make her happy. Didn’t mean it wasn’t true. “I don’t have the background the rest of you do. I understand that,” Katie
said. “I understand I need my fellow cadets to be willing to help me with it when there are gaps in what I know or can do. I do understand that.”
“Good,” Colleen said. “I know it hurts. Most of us here were pretty used to being among the best at everything. Most of our peers who weren’t didn’t even bother applying to the Academy.”
“Yeah,” Katie said. “Only I don’t think I can rely on the rest of you to carry me. I don’t even want to get started on making a habit of that. I think I need to be better at least one thing here, or there’s no point being here at all.”
“When do you need to make a decision by?”
“Tomorrow noon.”
Colleen sighed. “I won’t have to get back to the other girls before that,” she said. “Invitation is still open and they won’t even have to know you hesitated about accepting it. This is your first chance to get to know them all better. I wanted to keep it light and fun, but it is important.”
“I appreciate it,” Katie answered. “I’d like to go. Not only is it a good idea, I think I’d enjoy myself. I wish I could clone myself.”
Colleen snorted. “Don’t we all.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Katie agreed.
“Time management is a killer,” Colleen said. “Basic skill here. You qualified on the cross-country team, right?”
“I did. Wasn’t the worse one who did either. Just wasn’t the best. Legs are still too short.”
“So, I haven’t seen the schedule, but it can’t be as bad as the biathlon one. Do they have an event this weekend?”
“I think there’s a race not too far away Sunday afternoon. I haven’t checked, but I think I could still get on the team.”
“Maybe you should consider that. Message the cross-country coach right away?”
Katie twisted her lips, thinking about it. “Still practice almost every evening, even if it is on campus,” she said. “It would still take a chunk out of most every weekend before Christmas. Not as big as a chunk as the biathlon events, as the events are mostly closer, but big chunks just the same. Worse, the sacrifice wouldn’t be as rewarding. I’m a so-so runner. Wouldn’t stand out all that positively. Also they don’t hold races in the winter or spring, I’d have to do some other sports then. I really hate basketball, and intramural basketball is about all I could qualify for.”