Higher Education

Chapter Ten

Turkey Gossage was as good as his word and better. The theory final was more than tough. It was murderous. Rick staggered out of a private cubicle—no chance to “borrow” your answers on CM-2—and saw his own despair mirrored on everyone’s face. They had been asked questions far beyond anything taught in class. Jigger Tait’s early warning had been right: if you didn’t learn how to browse all around a subject, you were in trouble at Vanguard Mining.

Give the formula for the velocity, v, achieved by a ship accelerating with acceleration a for a time t.

That was fair. Turkey had pounded the simple formula, v = at, into their heads a dozen times. He said they had to remember it for the rest of their lives.

But then came the zinger: State circumstances when the formula that you have just given does not apply.

That had definitely not been mentioned anywhere, in any lesson. Rick had a vague feeling that things went wrong if you kept on accelerating until the calculated velocity was near the speed of light. He knew for sure that the formula couldn’t work if the answer you got was more than the speed of light, because nothing could go faster than that. But he had absolutely no idea what the right relation between speed and acceleration would be in such a case.

Stating all those thoughts, clearly and precisely, was just about impossible. Rick decided that he had waffled. Whoever listened to his spoken answer would know it. It all came back to what Mr. Hamel had said on the far-off day Rick had been kicked out of school: it’s a lot easier to be exact when you write something than if you try to speak it.

The good news was that the tests were finally over. The one he had just taken was the last. Now came the wait to learn how badly he had done. Turkey Gossage knew they would all be in agony until the final results were tallied. He had promised not to keep them hanging longer than one day.

What Turkey could not guarantee was the subjective length of twenty-four hours. As Deedee had said, time didn’t proceed at a uniform rate. When you were having fun, it flew by. When you were waiting for something, every minute dragged.

Like now.

The exam had finished at midday. Afternoon had been occupied in chores just tricky enough to keep a person from brooding over other things. The makework tasks were all done by dinnertime, and no activities had been set for later. Some instinct for solitude took over. The usual evening group session in the cafeteria, where people met to talk about the events of the day, never happened. Tonight everyone quietly picked up cartons of carry-out food and left at once.

Rick sought out his own private place, an abandoned outer chamber of CM-2 where he could sit and watch the stately rotation of the starfield. He was not sure he could stand the idea of going back to the dorm at all until tomorrow morning.

The asteroid training station made one revolution every twenty minutes, too slow to notice unless you were looking outside. As Rick was eating he idly took his drinking straw and released it. The straw drifted steadily downward, to land on the glassy floor of the observation room. There should be a way to calculate the effective gravity in which the straw fell, using the size of CM-2 and the time it took for the planetoid to turn on its axis. Jigger Tait or Gina Styan would rattle off a formula, but Rick did not know it.

The steady turn of the station was bringing Earth into view on the left. He watched it mindlessly, all the way until it slowly vanished from sight on the right. Then he realized that his mind had not been blank at all. He was thinking again about that damned theory exam, mentally reviewing his answers—and revising them, even though there was no way to change anything! It was a sure way to go crazy.

Rick left the observation room. He went wandering around the exterior paths of CM-2, until he came to the radiation-proof chamber where he had once tried to jump Gina Styan. He paused outside the door. He might have flunked the training course, but he’d learned at least one thing since he came to Vanguard Mining. He felt his testicles draw upward in his scrotum, his body’s reminder of the agony he had felt when Gina showed who was really the boss. It would be a long time before he tried anything like that again.

The door to the shielded chamber was open. Someone was sitting inside with the lights off. Apparently Rick was not the only one who didn’t want company. He was all set to retreat when a voice said, “Come on in. I felt sure you were heading this way. Don’t put the light on if you don’t want to.”

To Rick’s astonishment he knew that voice. It was Turkey Gossage. Rick peered into the dark interior.

“You knew where I was?”

“Of course. Many’s the night I’ve done the same thing myself. There’s no better place than the outer ring observation ports to feel the size and majesty of the universe, and know there’s more in it than you’ll ever see or understand. And I knew just when you left there.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Not just you. Everybody.” Turkey gestured to Rick to come in and raised the level of the lights. “We learned the hard way not to let any trainee go off alone and unmonitored the night after finals. Sit down and take it easy. Are you feeling upset?”

“I don’t know if that’s the right word. I can’t stop thinking about the exam.”

“I’m sure. That’s why I’m here—to end the suspense.” Turkey thrust out his hand. He had a big grin on his face.

“It’s over, Luban. Congratulations. You passed the final. You’ll be heading on to the next stage of training.”

Rick gaped at him. “Passed? But you said that tomorrow—”

“That was my time cushion, a margin for error. We finished the final comparison and collating of results four hours ago. I’ve been doing the rounds since, telling people. You’re the last.”

Rick finally did as Turkey had suggested, and flopped down onto the padded floor. He had passed! He would be leaving CM-2 and going out to the Belt. But it had come so soon and so suddenly—it did not feel real.

“When? When will I go?”

“Soon. A day or two.”

“So—what happens now?”

“You mean, right this minute? Well, I don’t imagine you feel much like sleeping.”

“Never!”

“Good. There’s a celebration party in the senior mess, and it should be swinging along nicely by now. So I suggest you head over there.”

“Are you coming, too?”

“Eventually. But not for a while.” Turkey’s voice became heavier and all the humor went out of it. “You see, Luban, this training station isn’t Happy House. It’s not like your school back on Earth, where everybody has to do well and everyone must graduate with honors, otherwise their precious self-esteem would be ruined. Nearly a fourth of the people on the training course have failed. They won’t be going to any party, and they need me tonight a lot more than you do. So maybe I’ll see you later. But if not—you’ll understand why.”

“Who—who failed?” And, when Gossage did not answer, “Vido Valdez, and Deedee Mao, and—”

“I prefer not to talk about individuals. Why don’t you get along to the party? There will be a complete list posted there later.” Turkey nodded. “Go now.”

It was an order, in a tone of voice that the trainees had learned not to argue with. Turkey would accept no more questions. Rick swallowed, rose to his feet, and stumbled out.

His path to the senior mess, normally off-limits to lowly trainees, took him past the dormitories. All the lights were on in spite of the late hour, but the corridors and rooms were eerily deserted like ghosts of their usual selves. Rick hurried past his own dorm and the open doors of the next two along. He glanced inside each, not expecting anyone, and was surprised to see a heavyset form at the far end of the second dorm, sitting on a bunk with his back to the door.

It was Vido. Rick paused. The two of them had hardly spoken a word since their last fight. He should go on. But the other’s hunched shoulders spoke of total misery.

Rick moved forward hesitantly to Vido’s side. “I’m really sorry,” he began, then could add nothing more.

Vido turned to stare up at him, his broad black face stony with grief. “It was my fault. All my fault.”

Rick reached out his hand intending to pat Vido’s shoulder, then drew it back. “You did your best. We all did. I’m really sorry that you—that it didn’t work out for you.” He could not bring himself to say that awful word, failed.

“For me?” Vido stared in confusion.

“That you didn’t pass.”

“But I did! You thought—”

“But you said—”

“Not me. Monkey! She failed, and it was all my fault.”

Vido put his head down and stared at nothing. “She came to you for help, an’ I hated it. I asked her not to do that no more. And she didn’t, for my sake. But you could have helped her. It was the math, you see, she could handle the rest of it but she couldn’t handle that. An’ you’re a real good math teacher, Alice an’ Deedee both say so. If only I’d been less selfish, if only I just hadn’t stopped her.”

Rick hesitated again. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say next would please Vido, but he knew that he had to say it. “Vido, it wasn’t you. I talked to Monkey for a long time that day before you came along. When it comes to math, she just doesn’t get it. Not at all. I could have taught her every day, so could you, and it wouldn’t have made any difference. She’d never have passed that theory final in a hundred years. She just didn’t seem able to get the basic ideas. You know her a lot better than me. Surely you saw that?”

“I thought it was me. I thought I wasn’t explaining right.”

“It wasn’t you. It was Monkey. I’m really sorry, Vido.” Rick finally reached out and patted the other’s shoulder, knowing it was something that no sixteen-year-old male did to another male in his old school without risking mockery. But the hell with that, things were different in space. “I’m really glad you passed. Honest. Congratulations.”

Vido looked startled. “I never asked. You?—”

“I passed, too. We’ll both be going to the Belt.”

“Yeah. Guess so. The Belt.” Vido took a deep breath, then stood up and held out his hand. “Congratulations. But you’re not at the party!”

“I’m on my way. You should go, too. It’s terrible about Monkey, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Let’s go.”

“I won’t be able to enjoy the party without her. Shit, I’ll probably take a swipe at Gossage the minute I see him, for flunking her.”

“I don’t think so. He won’t be there.” Rick repeated what Turkey had told him. “He’s got the toughest job of all tonight. You owe it to him to go and at least try to have a good time.”

“Yeah. Maybe I do.” Vido sighed. “To hell with it. To hell with everything. I thought this was goin’ to be the best day of my life, or it was goin’ to be the worst. An’ here it is both.”

He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. For a change, both of them were bloodshot. “Let’s go, Luban. Before people start sayin’ I’m getting soft.”

For the rest of the way, Rick wondered about Deedee Mao. He knew she was really smart, but she might not be good at taking tests. Suppose that she, like Monkey, had flunked? It was a huge relief to enter the crowded senior mess, and see her almost at once. She had been watching the door with an anxious expression, and the moment she saw him come in her face lit up and she gave him a double thumbs-up sign from across the room.

She came pushing across to his side. “I’d really started to wonder about you.” She had to put her face close to his and shout because of the noise.

“Hell, Deedee, if somebody like you could pass, I—ouch!” Rick grunted as she poked him in the ribs. “What’s going on over there? I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

A line of trainees was forming at the other side of the room, facing Jigger Tait.

“Not just a party. This is graduation. First you graduate, then you party.”

“You did?”

“Graduate? No. I was waiting for you.”

“And that’s it? The whole thing?” Rick had dreaded and half-expected the pomp and circumstance of a high school graduation ceremony, with robes and pictures and diplomas and celebrities, and boring windbag speeches ad nauseam. What people seemed to be getting was one quick handshake from an overall-clad Jigger Tait, “standing in for Turkey Gossage the one and only,” as he put it.

“What about my certificate?” Chick Teazle called out from halfway along the line.

“What would you do with a certificate if you had one?” Jigger was beaming. “You can’t hang it on the wall where you’re going—none of you will have a wall. You’ll be lucky if you get food and air.”

“We’d treasure your signature, sir.” Gladys de Witt was still wearing a cast and performed a southpaw handshake with Jigger. A sprung cable had broken her right arm on the final stage of her practical test, but she had finished, flying the ship home to base one-handed. Now she waved her white cast in the air. “You can sign this for me instead.”

Jigger did so, to enormous applause. The ones closest to them hooted at what he had written, while Gladys turned pink and held her arm against her body.

The line moved along slowly. Deedee and Rick were at the very end. “Thank God!” Jigger said, when they finally reached him. “How do politicians stand it? The only good part must be kissing babies—once they reach the right age.” He bent over and gave Deedee a hug and kiss instead of a handshake, producing cries of “No fair!” and “Do one, you do us all!” from the other girls who saw it happen.

“You can come and see me in private,” Jigger called back. “That’s my quota for tonight.” He winked at Rick, the last in the line. “Not a word to Gina, all right? She’ll be here a bit later, she can’t resist a dance.”

Music was beginning, loud and with a foot-tapping bass. A few couples came out to move awkwardly in time to it. Walking and running in low gravity was something that they had all practiced. Dancing was another matter. It was the first time that most trainees had tried it on CM-2. Rick, standing at the edge of the area cleared for dancing, was in even worse shape. He and his friends at school had always sneered at dancing and he had no idea how to do it.

He stared around the room. He had not seen the list that Turkey had mentioned, but he didn’t need it. He knew every trainee by name.

Vido of course had made it. Rick wondered if the two of them had again achieved near-identical scores. There was Chick Teazle, no surprise, and Gladys and Deedee next to him. At the edge of the dance floor, standing by herself and staring blank-eyed at the dancers, was Alice Klein. Rick was not surprised by that, either. In spite of her troubles with math, Alice had a way of scraping through. So did Goggles Landau, standing next to her. He wasn’t wearing glasses and he must have taken out his contacts, because he was squinting his eyes at everyone, probably wondering who they were.

So who was missing? Monkey, of course. So far as Vido was concerned she was the only one who mattered. Who else?

There was no sign of Cokie Mulligan. He had sworn at the beginning that he was done with school forever, and now it looked like he was right. Rick also couldn’t see Henrik Voelker, the “Carolina Kid” that the other East Coasters all swore was a mad genius. He had probably aced the hardest theory questions, but screwed up totally on anything that needed a bit of common sense. A handful of others had been no-hopers after their failed efforts on the practical test. They had been given a chance to make it up somehow on the theory, but apparently none of them had.

All the same, it looked like the class as a whole had beaten the odds. From a total of forty trainees starting out, thirty or so were here in the room. Rick started to count. He had reached seventeen when he became aware of Jigger Tait at his side.

“Not dancing?”

Rick shook his head. “Not yet. I was just counting how many of us there are left.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for that on the way out to the Belt. You shouldn’t do it now. You’ve done enough work for one day, and you ought to make the most of tonight. Tomorrow the honeymoon’s over. No more spoon-feeding. Things get tough, and you learn what real work is like. Come on.”

He grabbed Rick by the arm and led him puzzled around the dance floor. They were heading for the place from which Gladys de Witt had now vanished, leaving Deedee standing alone.

“After the first dance you’re on your own. For this one you get no choice.” Jigger beckoned Deedee onto the floor, faced her and Rick toward each other, and walked briskly away.

There was a long, awkward moment. Finally Deedee shrugged, stuck her tongue out after Jigger, and began to move her shoulders and arms in time to the music. “You hear what the man said.”

“I’m a lousy dancer.” An understatement if ever there was one.

“So what? You’re not here for prizes.” And, when Rick still stood rooted to the spot, “Look, Luban, I know you got no more rhythm than a fire hydrant. You want everybody to know that as well as me? Watch what I do, and move them big feet.”

They were standing out on the dance floor. He would be even more conspicuous not dancing than dancing badly. Rick began to move, trying to follow what Deedee was doing. After the first minute he realized that no one but Deedee would notice whatever dumb moves he made. They were all too wrapped up in their own efforts.

He began to relax. Deedee was grinning at him, yet he knew she wasn’t grinning at him. She was just enjoying herself. And she could dance like a professional. Rick tried to mimic that supple, limber action. He knew he was failing, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Tomorrow the honeymoon’s over. No more spoon-feeding. Things get tough, and you learn what real work is like.

What was it going to be like, out there in the Belt? That thought flashed into Rick’s mind, and was followed at once by the sudden memory of an answer he had given on the theory test. It was the wrong answer, and now he knew the right one. But—it didn’t matter.

He smiled at Deedee, and was rewarded by a flash of white teeth and a graceful sexy pirouette that was offered for him alone.

He caught her as she finished the turn and moved her body against him. She put her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Hey! That’s more like it.”

Unbelievably, the tests were over. They had passed, and Jigger Tait was right. They had done enough work for one day. For tonight at least they had earned some fun.