“Sir, off the record, Sir?”
“Yes, and you can drop the ‘Sir’ for this.”
“Sir, thank you, Sir.”
He smiled. “So, spill the beans.”
She told him about the incident on the way up, the way he had been snotty with Soo-Kyung, and how Soo-Kyung had blanked him. His cold, icy, reaction afterwards had her fearing his behavior.
Then, she told him about the encounter in the cafeteria, and his attempt to intimidate her. How she had remained resolute, and then how she finally broke when he taunted her with racism.
Finally, the incident in the dojo -- where he had engineered a situation that would get her on the mat. His brutality with David aside, he was clearly gunning for her. And when Patrice jumped in to save her, how Sebastian attacked him.
It left her no option but to finish the fight.
“What did you say?”
“I had to finish the fight. I have always learned to never start the fight, but always finish it.”
Carter almost smiled when he said, “Go on.”
“I knew that if he was going to be this brutal in front of an audience, that if he was foiled this time by, say, adult intervention, that the possibility of him being much nastier in private was a distinct one.”
“So, you stopped him.”
“The only way I knew how. I knew it would probably get me kicked out of here,” she said, tears flowing involuntarily from her eyes, “but if that’s the price I had to pay, that’s the price I have to pay.”
Carter leaned back in his seat, regarding her thoughtfully. His next action surprised her. He touched his link and spoke into it.
“Heard enough?”
“Yes,” came a gravelly voice on the other side. “I’m coming in.”
The door behind her cracked open, and she turned to see a man walking in. He took a seat beside Carter, and despite herself, she gasped.
His kindly smile made his brown eyes light up, and his greying hair was in deep contrast to his dark brown skin.
“I’m Ezra Higgins,” he said in his deep voice. “Pleased to meet you.”
She reached out and shook hands.
“I’m Principal of this Academy.”
Chapter 17
Higgins
And there’s where I end my letter my dear daughter. There’s where I have the last words that I will ever say to you. Someday, I know you will read these. Someday, I hope you understand them and take them to heart.
Don’t obey these words because I wrote them. Take them as guidance in finding your own way around what is right and what is wrong. Choose your own path, and stick with it.
Once you’ve done that, I’ll know that my life was lived fully, and that I can rest happy, knowing that you are going to be the only thing we can ever be: A good person.
Your loving Father.
She realized that her mouth was hanging open.
“Is it so unusual that a black man could be Principal?”
“No,” she replied, hesitant. “It’s just that I thought he was.” She pointed at Carter, and then, unsure of herself, added, “Sir.”
“Well, Carter is the public face because it keeps the sponsors happy,” said Higgins. “But, I’m the real principal.”
“Why would you hide that, Sir?”
Carter interjected, “Have you seen who sponsors this station and everything in it? They’re all whiter than I am.”
“But, surely, it’s an international station, sanctioned by the UN?”
“Sanctioned by them, but not paid for by them,” said Higgins. “But you’re asking the wrong questions.”
She stopped for a moment. What did he mean by ‘The wrong questions’? She looked at both men again. Their eyes were piercing into hers, but it wasn’t quite an interrogative thing. There was almost affection in them. Curious and curiouser.
But there was something odd in what they were saying. Why would the world’s billionaires invest in a station that they would send their kids to? Surely, a much better investment would be something that they could make more billions off of, unless--
“There’s an opportunity here for them, isn’t there?”
Higgins nodded kindly. “Go on,” he said, gently prodding her.
“Something that would even have Sebastian’s family making him return here after he iced out. Some kind of opportunity?”
And then it dawned on her. The interstellar travel. They were close. Maybe even closer than Patrice had suspected.
“Other worlds,” she said. “They’ll get their family here to claim other worlds. When we landed on the moon we planted a flag claiming it for the USA. They’re going to plant their family name here.”
“That was the agreement with the UN,” said Higgins. “They’d get permission from the UN to build this station and the Space Elevator and everything else, but in return--”
“In return they’d own space,” she interrupted. “And everything in it. Every new discovery. Every new world we might find.”
“Nations are already failing on Earth. The concept is dying,” said Higgins. “The wars in Korea and elsewhere proved that. It’s only a matter of time.”
“So they’re getting themselves in place for the next phase of civilization.”
“Exactly,” said Higgins. “And to make themselves the new royalty of humanity for the foreseeable future. Maybe forever.”
“So why did they allow open enrollment, for people like me to come up here?”
“That’s an excellent question,” said Carter. “And the answer is simple. They did it because I maneuvered them into it.”
“How?”
“What use is royalty without vassals? Better to have their kids commanding the best that humanity has to offer instead of just having each other.”
“That’s what Soo-Kyung thought. That we’d be their cannon fodder.”
“A remarkably perceptive young woman,” nodded Higgins.
“But why did you do it? Why did you maneuver them into getting us up here?”
“Because we thought there’d be young people on Earth who weren’t born into privilege but who would be much better at what we really need up here. Who would be much better at exploring the galaxy in the name of mankind.”
“And are we?”
“Jury is still out.”
He smiled, and she couldn’t help but return it.
“So,” he continued, “we are growing something new up here. A new society, a new way of thinking. They might think that because they paid for all of this that they own it. In reality, they’ll still likely own most of it. But we want to make sure that there’s a possibility for freedom to continue as we take our first steps into space.”
She heard the awe in her own voice. “A new society?”
“The concepts of governing peoples on the surface of a planet will soon be out-of-date and irrelevant. How do you have a democracy when people are light years apart? How do you have communism when you don’t have closed communities? How do you ensure a monarchy can thrive across great distances?”
“So what are you proposing?”
“That good people figure it out by living and breathing up here. It’s not realistic that everybody gets a say, so what if we choose people who are smart, compassionate and fair-minded. What if we bring them up here and make them the first to go to the stars? To give them exposure to what we might encounter out there? And let them figure it out for themselves and tell us what civilization should look like?”
“And you want me to be a part of that?”
He didn’t answer, and instead his voice grew serious. “There’s one more thing,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “The people who do that have to be able to leave behind the trappings of the past. You can’t move forward if you are dragged back by societal baggage.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look at you for an example. When you first saw me you were shocked because I am African-American. Because I am black.”
“Everyone is not here in this room. You are.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“And what tipped you over the edge in your encounter with Sebastian. In your own words, it was because he used a word that should never be used.”
“And it shouldn’t. He was wrong to--”
“But he didn’t actually say it, did he?”
“He intimated as much.”
“And by hinting that he might say a word, he completely manipulated your reactions. Engineered you into a situation where you might have gotten seriously hurt, and Mister Patrice Smith is still in the infirmary.”
“Are you saying we should just allow people to use that word, and not react?”
“Millions of people on Earth use it every day, in songs, in speech, online.”
“But they are--”
She stopped, and began to see what he was getting at. If rules permitted a set of behavior acceptable for one race but simultaneously intolerable for another (leading to violence) then the baggage of society would prevent something new from emerging as humanity took its first steps out into the stars.
“So what are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that if you want to be a part of this that you realize that there’s only one race: The Human Race. I’m suggesting that in order to go forward there’s a lot you have to leave behind. Are you willing to do so?”
“I think so. I just need to figure out what a ‘blank slate’ looks like. We are, after all, a product of our upbringing.”
“Good,” he said, nodding. “You do that.”
“So,” Aisha continued. “Does that mean I have to drop all the ‘Sir, yes, Sir’ stuff? Because that’s a trapping of the militaristic past too, is it not? Loyalty of vassals had to be continually demonstrated, as they weren’t expected to have the intelligence to grasp and understand a plan, and blind obedience was preferable.”
Higgins laughed, and Carter smiled a little before saying, “Don’t push it.”
The Principal cast a glance sidelong at Carter, who returned it. He nodded. “I think she’s ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Your young friend Seamus is very good at hacking records, but not as good as he thinks.”
“He told me my records were locked.”
“Yes, and he fell for the public story about your roommate. I assume she has told you the truth by now?”
Aisha wasn’t going to betray a secret or get lulled into doing so. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Carter said, “Of course.”
He reached into his desk and pulled out a paper envelope that appeared to be thickly stuffed with a paper letter.
He continued with a mild, sarcastic tone. “I suppose you don’t know about your own records being locked and sealed deeper than Satan’s belly button, either?”
She smiled, raised an eyebrow. “Sir, no, Sir. Of course not, Sir.”
He threw the letter across the table to her. When it landed, she could see her own name, handwritten.
“What is this?”
Higgins interjected. “We served in Korea alongside a wonderful man by the name of Roman Parks. Your father.”
She touched the letter tenderly. “My father?”
The handwriting on the envelope must be his. He had written it for her, but he had left it with these people.
“We made an agreement,” said Higgins. “Should anything ever happen to us, that we would look after each other’s children. When you were born, he knew you were special. And he knew that all of this was going to happen.”
“What?”
“So we made sure that we got involved. That we came here. He was a part of it too, in the early days. It was his idea that we try to give civilization a new face among the stars. His idea to save the future of mankind by taking this opportunity to leave the past behind.”
Aisha couldn’t speak. She held the letter tenderly in her hands. Brushed her fingers against the ink. He had touched this. He had held it too.
“He prayed that someday you could be a part of this. That you would grow up to be able to come here and thrive. And having spoken with you for the last few minutes, I can see that you can. That you are as strong, smart and independent as he was. He would be so proud of you, Aisha. Don’t ever forget that, and please help us continue the work that he started.”
She felt the tears leap to her eyes as she looked at him, and then looked back to the letter in her hand.
“You should go now,” he said, gently. “And read it. We’ll talk again soon.”
In a blur she left his office and made her way back to her apartment, trying not to make eye contact or speak with anyone. Mercifully, Soo-Kyung wasn’t home, so she flopped on her bed and turned on her window, showing scenes of home.
She held the letter tenderly, and, being careful not to tear or damage, it she opened it. She could smell the paper, and a faint hint of cologne. His smell.
She brought the paper to her nose and inhaled, trying to remember him, trying to connect with him through the smell. Visions of warmth and love came to her mind. She was much too young to have formed distinct memories. But the instinct of being held by a parent, that safe feeling…
Opening her eyes, she unfolded the paper and went to the first page. She was scared to read it, but also determined to understand every little thing that her father had had to say.
My Dearest Aisha:
I don’t even know how to begin writing this letter. I look at you now, sleeping in your crib, so small and so helpless, and I wish I could be there when you take your first steps. I wish I could see it when you go to school for the first time. I wish I could hold you when you come home crying for the first time, realizing that the world is a bigger and badder place than you could have ever imagined.
But I won’t be. The disease that is tearing through my body will take me away from you soon. And I’m so very sorry. But, so that I won’t be a distant and mysterious memory, I’m writing you this letter.
For you have a destiny. A bright and wonderful destiny…
Frontier: Book One - The Space Cadets Page 10