“What would you like to be doing, Terry, if you had a choice?” Aldren asked.
“Flying, of course. I’ve never wanted to be anything but a space pilot.”
“You have programming skills, too, don’t you? Very advanced ones?” At Terry’s look he added, “I have access to your record, but nothing you say to me will be entered in it. Our conversation is absolutely confidential; it’s not being recorded and I don’t make notes of my own impressions, either. That’s among the benefits of not being formally employed by Fleet.”
“I’m a pretty good programmer,” Terry admitted. “I could have gotten a job anywhere on Earth, even without college—during my last year of school I had offers. I chose Fleet instead because I wanted to fly.” He added, “I was a hacker, you know. I broke into a lot of systems, though nobody knew it was me—” He broke off, horrified. Why had he said that? The hacking was not on his record; there was no way Dr. Aldren could have found out.
The doctor didn’t seem surprised. “I’m assuming you didn’t do any black-hat hacking,” he said.
“No, of course not—I only wanted to see if I could get past their security. And—and to kill time.”
“School must have been a drag for you, since you earned high grades and still had time to kill. But I suppose you weren’t one for partying.”
“It wasn’t that.” Now they were getting to it, as Terry had known they would. “I’d have liked to hang out with some of the guys, only—”
“Only you never seemed to fit in. There was a wall of some kind between you, and it wasn’t a matter of your intelligence. You reached out silently and they didn’t respond.”
Terry caught his breath, astonished. How could Aldren possibly have figured that out? It wasn’t something that happened to other people; he had read enough in the knowledgebase to be sure it wasn’t.
“Did your parents respond, Terry?”
Psychiatrists always wanted to know about your relationship with your parents. He had nothing to hide there; when he was ten his dad had died but he had gotten along well with his mom, largely because she hadn’t pried into what he was doing with his computer. Only . . .
A picture came into his mind: His mom, putting her arms around him, saying how much she loved him, and he, then a small boy, hugging her and realizing for the first time that he couldn’t reach her. He could nestle close and know that she did love him and that he wanted more than anything else in the world to tell her how deeply he loved her back, but words were too weak to express that feeling. There should be a way for him to reach her mind! But there wasn’t, and by the time he was six he had stopped trying. He had let it go with merely speaking his love for his parents and had shrunk from the embraces that seemed so inadequate. They hadn’t noticed, because for them, speaking was enough.
“It hurt, didn’t it,” Aldren observed. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” Terry said in a low voice before becoming aware that he hadn’t told him any of this, had not even answered the question.
“And so with women—”
This was what he had dreaded. With a psychiatrist, the subject of sex was bound to arise. And it embarrassed him, though not for the usual reasons. His relations with women were normal enough. He had never had any physical problems.
Nevertheless his experiences with sex had not been happy. Despite physical satisfaction they had left him emotionally drained—there was something missing in it, some connection that ought to be present beyond the mere joining of bodies. It was, perhaps, what was known as love; but other men did not seem to feel frustrated by not falling in love every time they slept with anyone. He did, and he had therefore avoided the situation when he could. On long expeditions that wasn’t always possible; explorer crews paired off and he did not want his presumptive partner to think he didn’t find her attractive. So there had been brief relationships, but never, to his disappointment, one that he found fulfilling.
“I’m not involved with any of the women here,” he said, hoping to bypass the issue of past abstinence.
“Don’t worry about it,” Aldren said. “Most people settle for too little. It’s better to hold off until you meet a woman you have a lot in common with.”
“That’s not very likely to happen, is it? I’m—too different.”
“Not so different as you think. There are new worlds of experience ahead of you, Terry, things I know about you but can’t explain at this point. Aldren’s smile was so genuine, and so empathetic, that Terry almost forgot he was a doctor. He was aware only that he was the most congenial man he had ever met—not so much in what he said but in what he intuitively grasped.
“For now, let’s talk about your career goals," Dr. Aldren went on. “I assume you want to go back to exploring, but if that’s not possible, is there any other assignment you think you could adapt to?”
“Not really. Freighters and even liners—they just make milk runs, and flying charters means you’ve got to take orders from the client. Exploring—well, you see something new, and you never know what it’s going to be. Each planet is different. And I might make a rich find.”
“You don’t care about getting rich.”
“No,” Terry agreed. “That’s what everybody else wants, so I say it . . . but I’ve always thought, hoped anyway, that someday I’d come across some tremendous secret out there, out near some star where no one has been before, something that mattered. . . .” To make light of it he added, “Aliens, maybe.”
Aldren laughed. “Wouldn’t it be great if we someday met some, after all the centuries humankind has waited in vain.”
“I—I wonder if maybe they’re a sort of symbol. What people imagine because they don’t have a name for what I’m looking for.”
“That’s very perceptive. I think you must have read quite a lot, and not just science fiction.”
“I know my way around the Nets and their knowledgebases at centers where I’ve been stationed.”
There was a pause. Then Aldren persisted, “You can’t command a ship with a crew of four forever. What’s going to happen when you’re promoted?”
“A terraforming expedition, maybe. Someday perhaps even a colonizer.”
“What about cruiser duty?”
“God, no!” Cruisers had no real function beyond endless preparation for hostilities that their very existence prevented. Back when the League was formed, the Unified Colonial Fleet had been established to make interplanetary war impossible. Its possession of armed cruisers was one of the two means by which it succeeded, the other being its legal monopoly on ownership and operation of all but the smallest starships. Occasionally cruisers were called on for police action such as putting down rebellions or dealing with pirates, but mainly the patrollers they carried flew practice missions. It was an assignment no experienced officer wanted, and Terry knew that even at the command level he would find it deadly dull.
They talked on for a while, not saying anything very significant, at least it seemed so at the time. Terry found himself prolonging the discussion, feeling more and more drawn to Dr. Aldren and not liking the thought that since he wasn’t psychologically disturbed they were unlikely to meet again.
“None of what I’ve learned about you will reach Admiral Derham,” the doctor assured him as he rose to leave. “Except that with your permission, I will tell him that you’d benefit from a more challenging assignment.”
“Thanks. Not that I want any special consideration, but I hope he’ll take your advice.”
“One other thing. You mustn’t mention to anyone except the admiral that we’ve had this conversation, or even that you’ve been to see me. I don’t want people comparing notes.”
“Okay,” Terry agreed. He hadn’t realized that the rest of the newcomers were being called in, too. Perhaps that was the solution: morale at the base was to be improved one person at a time. Whether or not Aldren found any other means of doing it, he had certainly improved his.
Later, lying on his bunk in the
dark, he reflected on this and was dismayed. His face burned. What had come over him? The man was a psychiatrist, trained to probe whether he was employed by Fleet or not. Yet somehow, without meaning to, he had told him all his most private secrets, all the things he had never intended to admit to anyone. Some of them, Aldren had known without being told. The connection he’d felt between them was uncanny. It was the sort of link that he had sought with others and never found.
~ 3 ~
Late the next day, Terry was notified that the CO wanted to see him immediately. Elated, he changed into a clean uniform and headed for Administration, thinking that Dr. Aldren’s recommendation of a more challenging assignment must have been taken seriously. Perhaps it had even precipitated correction of the error that had brought him to Titan.
“Lieutenant Terry Radnor reporting,” he said to the intercom; there was no receptionist on hand after regular office hours. To his surprise, Admiral Derham himself responded.
“Come on into my office, Lieutenant,” he said, “and close the door, please.”
Terry complied, and stood at attention before the admiral’s desk. “You have new orders for me, sir?” he asked hopefully.
“Not yet. Sit down—there’s something I want to discuss.” He waited until Terry was seated, then continued casually, “How did you get on with Dr. Aldren?”
“Fine, sir.” It had been more than fine, and he was not sure what such a question was meant to accomplish. Knowing that Dr. Aldren was the CO’s friend, he could scarcely have answered any other way.
“He’s an exceptional person,” Admiral Derham declared. “How would you feel about working with him for a while?”
Stunned, Terry burst out, “Sir, I liked Dr. Aldren very much, but I really don’t think I need psychotherapy.” Certainly Aldren had not implied that he did.
“That’s not what I mean. There is some experimental work going on here of which Dr. Aldren is in charge, and he has told me that you have aptitude for it. Since I can’t offer you a transfer soon, I think you might be interested in volunteering.”
Terry’s heart lifted. So he hadn’t been under suspicion of social maladjustment after all—he had merely been interviewed for a special job. It didn’t much matter what it was; any diversion would be welcome, and short of flying, to work under Dr. Aldren would be better than anything he could have hoped for. “Yes, sir, I would,” he said.
“It’s a spare-time commitment in addition to your regular work,” Admiral Derham warned. He hesitated, assessing Terry’s reaction. “This is a top secret project,” he said soberly. “There’s a good deal you need to know before deciding to participate, but I can’t tell you any of it unless you sign an Extraordinary Secrets Acknowledgment.”
Terry had heard of ESAs. Signing one was no small matter. If you leaked a secret covered by it, even accidentally, it meant dishonorable discharge from Fleet; if you deliberately revealed such a secret, the penalty was lifelong banishment to a penal colony. If the secret turned out to be some sort of cover-up that ought to be revealed, you couldn’t blow the whistle. Yet he felt sure beyond doubt that any project run by Dr. Aldren would be aboveboard.
“I had to sign one myself,” Admiral Derham said. “Only a few key officials know about this experiment; I was briefed at headquarters during my leave. And no one else other than the people we’re recruiting must ever know. This ESA is binding for life, Lieutenant. You cannot ever, at any time in the future, mention what you learn about the project to anyone you are not specifically authorized to discuss it with. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Drawing a deep breath, Terry took the stylus offered him and signed the input pad, then added his thumbprint. Once in the databank it was unalterable, he knew; even his most sophisticated hacking skills did not extend to top security Fleet installations.
“Okay,” the CO said. “Now, this is difficult to explain, and it won’t be clear to you until you’ve been told more by Dr. Aldren, assuming that you wish to proceed. Basically, a way has been found to give people—capabilities, capabilities that go beyond those ordinarily possessed by human beings. For instance, people who have had such training have full power over their own health. They control their inner processes so that they never get sick. They can heal minor injuries by mind alone. And they are immune to pain. Obviously, capabilities of this kind would be of use to Fleet officers, particularly to explorers.”
Incredulous, Terry protested, “How can inner processes be affected except by drugs? Or—or do you mean with drug implants, sir?” He did not like that idea at all. And he hadn’t thought Dr. Aldren was the sort who would like it, either.
“No drugs are involved,” Derham assured him. “In fact, people trained in these skills don’t need to take drugs for illness or risk factors. They don’t need medical care at all except in case of serious injury. And if they consistently practice what they’ve been taught, they don’t decline in old age.”
It sounded too good to be true. “If this is possible, sir, why it is secret?” he protested. “It would be useful to everybody, not just Fleet.”
“Yes, and the long-term goal is to offer it to the whole population, but it will take many generations to reach that stage,” Derham said. “There are a number of reasons for secrecy, not all of which need concern you at present. But for one, the training is extremely challenging and requires a great deal of time and skill on the part of the instructor. The only people in the League currently qualified are Dr. Aldren and his wife. What do you think would happen if the public knew that it was possible and that only a privileged few were being given access to it?”
That was too obvious to require a reply. “Titan base has been chosen for the pilot project because it is small and isolated,” Derham went on, “and because at present we have officers with free time on their hands. The training is being offered on a strictly voluntary basis; no one will be pressured in any way to take it. Whether you accept or not, it will not be entered in your record. Refusal won’t have any adverse effect on your advancement. It’s essential for you to understand this—we want only genuine volunteers.”
There had to be a catch somewhere. “If these capabilities are for real, why would anybody refuse?” he inquired.
“Well,” said Admiral Derham, “there are a couple of conditions that might put some people off. In the first place, as I’ve told you, those given this training gain permanent immunity to pain. But it’s not a free lunch. The first stage of training is physically painful, extremely so. There are good reasons why it’s got to be, most of which can’t be explained to you in advance. You have to be willing to tolerate it.”
Terry frowned. That everyone given this information would “volunteer” was a foregone conclusion, since the admiral must know that no young officer would let the CO think he, or she, was a coward. Certainly he himself wasn’t going to be deterred by fear of pain. But he couldn’t envision Dr. Aldren subjecting him to it. He was not the kind of man who would.
As if sensing this thought, Admiral Derham said, “One of the special qualities an instructor of these skills needs is the ability to inflict suffering on a volunteer without flinching, for the sake of what that person stands to gain. He or she has to be confident enough in judging people to be sure it’s someone who will benefit, and who will later feel the gain was worth the price. It is worth it—I’ve been through the training myself, and I know.”
“You have these capabilities, sir? Immunity to illness and pain?”
“I do, as well as certain other abilities to which the training often leads. So does my wife, who as you may know is a medical officer here under the jurisdiction of the Surgeon General’s command. The ordeal essential to acquiring them is not something I would suggest to anyone without first experiencing it personally.”
If Admiral Derham had done it, then so could he, whatever it took, Terry resolved. He had never refused a challenge or doubted his ability to meet it. There was no decision to be made.
“Our
XO, Commander Vargas, has also been through it,” Derham went on. “He’s the only other person here who’s in the loop, apart from your fellow trainees, whose identity you won’t know for the time being. And that brings up the other condition you need to consider. When possible, only committed couples will be chosen for this training because the changes it leads to would be impossible to hide from a partner. We don’t have enough eligible couples on Titan, so we are accepting some singles, both men and women. But they’ve got to remain single, in all senses of the word, not just legally.”
As Terry absorbed this, he continued, “I don’t know what you’ve said to Dr. Aldren, that’s confidential; but I assume, since he gave me the go-ahead to recruit you, that you’re not in a current relationship.”
Terry nodded. For once, maybe it was an asset.
“However,” Derham said, “you’ll undoubtedly want sex at some time in the future. And once you’ve had the training, to be intimately involved with anyone who hasn’t been vetted would be a violation of the ESA you signed.”
Not knowing what to say, Terry was silent. “We will approve, and if possible train, any reliable person you ask us to,” Derham went on. “But there can’t be any impulsive liaisons, however brief. Again, I know Dr. Aldren would not have recommended someone to whom that restriction would be an undue burden. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.” The reason for Dr. Aldren’s unworried reaction to his dislike of casual sex was now clear, too. What about explorer crews? he wondered. That might be awkward. But then, if he were able to do without medical care in an emergency, all members of the crew would know.
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 2