Higher Education

Chapter Seven

Rick remembered Jigger Tait’s words about the dangers of space, more or less. But what he thought about a lot more in the next few days was that shielded chamber. Radiation-proof—and soundproof. He visited it a couple more times when he had no other duties. Thick walls, padded floor, and tight-fitting door. Total privacy. Just what he needed.

It took four days before he could trade with Monkey Cruse for her next one-on-one training session with Gina Styan in the interior of CM-2. Fortunately Monkey had her own hot ideas about Jigger Tait. She didn’t tell Rick what this particular training was for, and Rick didn’t ask. He’d be willing to move a lot of rocks for a chance at Gina.

This time his job turned out to be both easier and harder than manual labor. Rick had to learn to operate remote-controlled cutting equipment, and Gina proved to be a hell of a tough teacher. She ran him through scores of operating steps again and again, watching him with that slightly mocking, sexy and intimate look on her face whenever he messed up a sequence.

“There’s a lot to this.” Rick felt obliged to defend himself when the session ended with the cutter under his control waltzing wildly sideways to gouge a hole in the tunnel side wall. “How long did it take to remember all the variations?”

“I’m not sure I ever did.”

“You have a pictorial prompt in your suit helmet? Then why in hell didn’t you give me one?”

“No prompt.” Gina waved a small red book at Rick. “The control steps are in here, along with a lot of other stuff. But it’s all in words and formulas. Once you can read well—”

“This is really dumb. A few simple pictures, that’s all it would take.”

“You think so? Listen to this, then you tell me how you would put it into pictures. ‘Pressure equalization between old and new drilling is best achieved by releasing stored air into the evacuated chamber. The cutting equipment normally produces a straight cylindrical cavity three meters in diameter, so the volume to be filled is simply 2.25-TrL cubic meters, where L is the length of the new drilled tunnel in meters.’ You know what n is?”

“I think so. I’m not sure.” Rick was actually quite sure. Sure he didn’t.

“It’s a mathematical constant. Draw me a picture of that if you can. Do you know its value?”

Rick shook his head. This wasn’t going the way he had imagined it, but he’d bide his time. Let Gina feel superior for the moment. She would find out soon enough who was the real boss.

“Why should I bother to know any of that math stuff? If I ever need it I’ll pull it up on a calculator.”

“Pi is equal to 3.14159.” She didn’t seem to have heard him. “That’s to six significant figures. It’s as accurate as you’ll probably ever need unless you get into orbit work, then you’ll want it to twelve. You’ll have the value of n engraved on your brain stem and your butt before you leave CM-2, along with a lot of other numbers you’ve never heard of yet. And while we’re at it, let me tell you what happens to a calculator or an electronic prompter during a blow-out or a big radiation storm: they die, or they become totally unreliable. But this"—Gina held up the red book—"it can stand more radiation, heat, and cold than you can. By the time a book like this became unusable, you or I would be long dead.”

She tucked the book into a pocket on her suit. “You’ll learn, Ricky boy. Let’s go.”

Rick had learned, at least some things. He had spent most of his few free hours studying and committing to memory the network of passages and chambers that criss-crossed the interior of CM-2. Without saying anything to Gina he headed for the surface along a particular set of passages. He emerged, just as planned, right beside the shielded chamber. The door was as he had left it, slightly ajar.

He stopped when he came to it, and led the way inside.

“You ever been in one of these?”

“Ages ago. This, or one just like it.” Gina had followed him and was glancing around her with no particular interest. “I don’t know why they keep this place in working order. It has no uses since the interior was excavated.”

“It does.” Rick swung the heavy door into position and pressed the sealing button. Interior lights came on at once and there was a hiss of released air. He went across and checked that the inner door was also sealed.

“Not needed for radiation protection,” he went on, “but it has other uses.” He took off his suit helmet and gestured to Gina to do the same.

“You’re wasting air.” But Gina did not sound much concerned by that, and she followed Rick’s lead and removed her own helmet. “Other uses? Like what?”

“Like this.” Rick had been sizing up their positions and rehearsing his own next action. He knew the moves and he was pretty experienced, but that had been back on Earth. He had to do things differently in freefall.

The smart thing was to make a first move that he knew he could manage. He was close to the chamber wall. He kicked off from it, drove hard across the room, and pinned Gina against the opposite wall. He had to use both arms and legs to hold her there, but they finished face to face.

“Gina.” He spoke in a whisper, though he could have screamed and no one else would have heard a thing. “Gina, you’re really something special. Let’s get out of these dumb suits and have some fun.”

He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away.

“Dammit, Rick, that’s enough fooling. And it’s not funny. Let me go.”

He almost did. Then he remembered Screw Savage’s advice to him and Hoss. “No, never means no with a woman. They say it because they like to play hard to get, but they really want it bad as you do. You gotta ignore what they say and keep chargin’. Go for the gold!”

Rick moved his left arm quickly to turn Gina’s head back toward him, pressed his mouth to hers, and started to give her a French kiss. His right hand felt at the same time for her breast.

It was as though he had pressed a starter button. As his fingers met her left nipple through the resilient material of the suit, her right knee pistoned up between his legs. It hit him squarely in the crotch like a bony hammer.

Rick gasped and curled up into a ball, hanging in midair. He was sure that the blow had burst his testicles and driven them right back inside his body. He vaguely heard Gina speak through his fog of pain.

“You little shit! Nobody does that to me, ever. Apologize.” She had him by the ear, pulling it off his head. “Apologize, right now, or I’ll really hurt you.”

Rick was curled up, forehead close to his knees. He could hardly breathe, and he certainly couldn’t apologize. But if he didn’t she might do the same thing to him again.

“Sorry!” It was more a gasp than a word. “Sorry.”

“I don’t know what made you think I’d be interested in a semiliterate oaf like you, but here’s news: I’m not.”

She let go of his ear, then clapped his helmet back onto his head hard enough to make his ears ring. While he hung dizzy and helpless, she flipped his suit seals into position.

“You can find your own way back, dummy, or you can die trying. I don’t much care which.”

Rick heard the inner door slam shut and the airlock cycling. He tried to lift his head to see if Gina had gone, until a worse worry took over. Nausea swept through him. He felt ready to vomit—inside his suit.

He swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and fought the urge. The spasm slowly faded. By the time it was over his forehead was beaded with cold sweat and the sickness had been replaced by an agonizing throbbing in his belly and groin.

Fifteen minutes passed before he felt strong enough to leave the chamber. Then it was a miserable splay-legged crawl back to the training facilities. He paused before entering.

What had Gina told Turkey Gossage? Surely, the whole horrible episode. Rick was done for. He was going to be kicked out of this place, just as he had been kicked out of school. And where could he go now? Back to join the Pool on Earth?

Might as well get it over with. He couldn’t hang around outside forever, and there was no way he could avoid the rage of Turkey Gossage.

Rick eased his way out of his suit and limped to Turkey’s office. He didn’t see anyone on the way, and he almost changed his mind when he was right at the entrance. But Gossage had already seen him on the threshold and waved him in.

“You took your time.” Gossage nodded to Rick and at once returned his attention to the screen in front of him. “I didn’t think you’d make it before I closed for the day. Help yourself to a meal voucher.”

Rick, tensed and ready for a storm of anger, stared at Gossage open-mouthed. “What did Gina say?”

Turkey really looked at Rick for the first time. “Say? Why, what do you think she said? She said you did well. I know you rammed the wall with the cutter at the end, but Gina said that the test she gave you was harder than anything in the standard course. So you passed. Now, go and eat before I change my mind.”

Rick grabbed the voucher and left before Gossage could ask him anything. But he didn’t feel in the least like eating, and still less like going into the cafeteria where he might have to face Gina. He was sore, exhausted, and bewildered. He started for his cabin, knowing that he needed rest. Then he visualized Cokie Mulligan and the other trainees, watching him limp in and starting with their questions.

He couldn’t stand that, either. Where could he go? The study cubicles were always crowded at this time of day.

The only place he could think of was the gym. It was a bit of a mystery why CM-2 even had a gym, because so far as he knew no one ever went there. But the region had light centrifugal gravity, and there were showers. He could examine and bathe his bruised and tender balls, stretch out on a couch, and not move until it was time to wake up and use his meal voucher for breakfast.

He dragged his way toward the outer circle of the station where the gym was located, thankful that it was a time when few people were about. Safe inside the bath-house, he removed all his clothes and took a warm bath. He examined himself closely. So far as he could tell everything down there was perfectly normal. He didn’t even seem to be swollen, though it felt that way from the inside. Finally he went into the shower, set the water temperature as hot as he could stand, and simply let the stream run over his head and back for a long time.

By the time he dried himself and put on a change of clothing he was feeling human again. He emerged from the shower area and stopped. The gym was no longer deserted. Jigger Tait was running laps, round and round the inside of the big high-gee wheel. He must have been there for a while, because his blue tee-shirt was stained with sweat.

He nodded down at Rick when he caught sight of him and ran around the hoop of the track toward him. “Want to join me?”

Rick shook his head and started toward the exit. But he couldn’t help moving in an awkward bow-legged fashion.

“You all right?” Jigger stepped closer.

“Yeah. I’m all right.”

“You sure don’t look it. That’s a John Wayne walk—like you got a bad case of hemorrhoids, or you just took a dump in your pants. What happened?”

“I just—” Rick paused. He didn’t have a lie in his head. Anyway, Jigger would find out soon enough, along with everybody else. He sighed. “I just did something really dumb.”

And then, when Jigger said not a word, it all came spilling out. It seemed even worse in retelling than in reality. Jigger stood and listened in silence, the sweat cooling on his moon face and steam rising from his damp tee-shirt. It was only after Rick told how he had made his move on Gina, and she had kneed him in the testicles, that Jigger shook his head and said, “Wish I’d been there.”

“You’d have stopped her?”

“No. I’d have broken you in two.” Jigger grabbed Rick by the arm and led him to a pair of rowing machines, the only place where the two of them could sit down facing each other. “How old are you, kid?”

“Sixteen.”

“Thought so. Know how old Gina is?”

“Nineteen?”

“She’s twenty-two. You’re like a baby to her. Hell, you are a baby. Back in school you probably felt like a real big shot—I know I did. I’d had girls, I’d busted teachers, the whole bit. But to Gina a kid from Earth is still in diapers. I’d say each year in space, ’specially in the Belt, is like three on Earth. You were a little kid making a pass at a grown-up.”

“But she didn’t report it to Gossage. And she passed me on the test I took.”

“Sure she did, if you did well on it. Why wouldn’t she? You didn’t really upset her. How’d you feel if a ten-year-old girl came on strong to you? You’d think it was ludicrous. And you were being tested for proficiency, not maturity. Anyway, believe it or not, Gina likes you. If she didn’t she’d have ripped your balls off and stuffed them down your throat. She’d have got away with it, too. What ever made you think for one second that she might be interested in you?”

“She looked at me like she was really fond of me.”

“Yeah. Know why? Because you remind her of her kid brother. He’s back on Earth and going nowhere, just the way she was before she tripped up and was sent out here. Gina admits it, she used to be a real tearaway. Her parents couldn’t do a damn thing with her. But her brother’s less of a rebel, and she’s afraid he’ll just stick in school to the end and finish up in the Pool.”

“You don’t think she’ll tell anyone about what I did?”

“Don’t see why she should. But I’ll talk to her and make sure.”

“Will she listen to you?”

“I think so.” Jigger stared at Rick for a second, his head to one side. “You’re not too observant, are you? I mean, you’ve never noticed that Gina and me are an item, have been for a year and a half. That’s why I came to CM-2 instead of heading right out for the Belt. That’s why I know about her, and what a hellcat she used to be, and all about her kid brother.”

Rick gazed at Jigger in horror. He had just remembered what Jigger said about breaking him in two. “I didn’t know—I didn’t notice. I’m sorry. I mean, if I’d had any idea that you two—”

“You know now. Nothing wrong with feeling horny, either—it means you’re physically adjusting to space. But stick to trainees. And don’t forget one other thing. California where you came from has the strongest laws in the known universe against sexual harassment and rape, but they still don’t work worth a damn. Out here we do things differently. A woman is taught a few tricks so she can look after herself. Deedee and Monkey and Gladys are getting special training you’ll never hear about. All the girls are being taught how to look after themselves. Remember that, if you want to keep your balls.” Jigger stood up from the rowing machine, came across, and patted Rick on the shoulder. “And while your jewels are still sore, use what happened with Gina to remind you of one other thing: If you want to survive in space, it’s not enough to be able to read and write and calculate. You have to learn to notice things—the sort of stuff you won’t find in any book.”

Rick skulked for a week. He hid away in the privacy of the study cubicles, until finally and inevitably he had the dreaded face-to-face meeting with Gina. She came into the cafeteria with a group of trainees while he was taking a hurried meal.

Rick froze. But her casual greeting suggested that nothing unusual had ever happened between them. Rick breathed a prayer of thanks and decided that he could return to the normal harassed life of a trainee on CM-2.

It didn’t work out that way. He didn’t hide away any more from Gina, but soon he had even less free time than usual, as two new things happened in quick succession.

The first came when he ran into Jigger Tait, and the big man was again on his way for a session in the gym.

“Every day,” said Jigger in answer to Rick’s question. “So does Gina, and so does Turkey Gossage.”

“But why? None of you is fat or anything.”

“No. But we’re in space, in a low-gee environment. Regular exercise is absolutely essential, otherwise you suffer calcium loss. Keep that up for a while and your bones get weak. When that happens it’s a real bugger to get back to normal.”

“But nobody’s making us exercise.”

“Give it another week and they will. You’ve only been excused because Turkey likes trainees to get their space legs before he lets them loose in the gym. Otherwise they run into walls or fall over things or tear muscles using the exercise equipment.” Jigger studied Rick as they moved along side by side. “You seem to handle space pretty good. Take a bit of advice from me. Get a head start right now, and use the gym regular. The sooner you do, the less chance you’ll have of long-term space problems.”

Rick nodded, but he might have ignored Jigger if he hadn’t run into Vido Valdez half an hour later. They converged in the quiet study area. Exactly one cubicle was vacant.

They stood together in front of the sliding door, with Rick a few inches in front. “Guess we could take turns,” he said. “You—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Vido sideswiped him from behind. Rick went sprawling forward into the wall, and before he could get up Vido was inside and had closed the door.

“Bastard!” Rick tugged at the handle, then hammered hard on the panel. “Open up!”

“Go screw yourself.”

“I was here first.” When Vido did not answer, Rick hammered on the door again. “Let me in.”

There was a chorus of complaints from the neighboring cubicles. “Get the hell out of here!”

“Shut the racket!”

“Hey, this is a quiet area.” And then, from a piercing female voice that Rick recognized as Gladys de Witt’s: “Stop your screaming, Luban, and bugger off—or we’ll call Turkey Gossage.”

Rick tugged one more time at the door. It did not budge. In an absolute fury he banged again, then hurried away to another series of complaints and abuse.

It ain’t over “til I say it’s over.

It wasn’t over between him and Vido, far from it. Rick rubbed at his shoulder. Valdez was strong, and the blow from that muscular arm had hurt. If another fight was coming—and it seemed to be—Rick would get creamed again. Unless he could somehow change the odds.

He recalled Jigger’s advice. Though it was the last thing in the world—or out of it—that he felt like doing, he headed for the region where the gym was located. He couldn’t make himself bigger and heavier than Vido, but maybe he could make himself harder and fitter.

He changed into shorts and a tee-shirt and went through to the hooped track with its centrifugal gravity. Someone was already there, running with an easy, floating style that appeared totally effortless. He halted. If that was Gina, and she misunderstood . . .

But it wasn’t. It was Alice Klein, dressed in a black singlet and the briefest of black shorts. Rick waited until she came past where he was standing, then accelerated to the point where he could step onto the moving track. He ran until he was at her side.

“Mind if I join you?”

She turned her head and gave him that smile that never got above her mouth. Rick took it as an OK, and matched his stride to hers. Within a minute he realized there might be another reason for that smile. She was moving fast—and not even breathing hard. Low gee must suit her, she seemed to float along as though this was her natural element. Out here her thin limbs looked graceful, even beautiful.

Well, he wasn’t going to put up with another fiasco, like the one on the treadmill. Instead of trying for more conversation, he looked straight ahead, lengthened his stride to one more natural to his height and the reduced gravity, and concentrated all his attention on running. The track was about a hundred meters long, forming a hoop that rotated at constant speed about its center. Centrifugal force produced an effective gravity maybe a third of Earth’s. As you ran, the path ahead seemed to rise all the time in front of you; yet you always felt as though you were on level ground.

A blue strip across the floor of the hoop marked the beginning of each lap. After the first two, Rick began to look for the line of blue and count as they passed it. Three, four, five. . .

When the count reached twenty laps, he wondered how long he would be able to keep it up. He stole a sideways glance at Alice, trying to look nonchalant—and found that she had turned her head at the same moment.

“That’s it for me,” she said, and slowed her pace. “But you don’t have to stop on my account.”

She was laughing at him, Rick felt sure of it. There was a sly, satisfied tone in her voice. He slowed too, trying not to gasp for air. Still she did not seem to be out of breath.

“How long have you been doing this?” he wheezed, as they stepped together off the rotating track.

“This? You mean running? Since the third day after we got here.” And then, as though reading his mind, “You’ll find it gets easier fast, once you do it regularly. I had real trouble the first few days.”

Instead of setting a course for the showers she was heading to the equipment room. Rick followed her. The rowing machines that he and Jigger Tait had used were right near the door, and Rick hadn’t even taken a good look at the rest of the place. He watched as Alice Klein sat down on a padded seat and strapped herself in. She reached up to a horizontal bar and pulled it down with some effort to chest level. Rick had seen similar work-out equipment back on Earth, but here there were differences. On Earth, a machine like this made use of gravity. You pulled down, and a cable ran up from the bar, over a pulley, and raised a set of weights. As you allowed the bar to go back up, the weights were lowered.

Here, though, in negligible gravity, weights would not do the trick (Turkey Gossage didn’t even want the trainees to use the word weight; he said the right term to use in space was mass). This exercise machine had an arrangement of multiple springs, so that as you pulled the bar it exerted a constant upward pressure all the way down for you to work against.

“You don’t get fit watching,” said Alice, after half a dozen pull-downs. She did not look at him, but Rick moved forward to sit at the next machine. Then there was another twenty minutes of silence, as he learned that his upper body was even more in need of conditioning than his legs and lungs.

Finally Alice allowed her bar to go all the way up to its rest position and came to stand next to Rick. She studied the settings on his machine and shook her head.

“I can’t match you there. You have twice my muscle power, and you always will.”

“And you’ll always be able to run me into the ground.”

“Could be. That’s life. Horses for courses.”

She nodded at Rick and headed for the showers, leaving him to wonder what on Earth she meant by that last remark. In his whole life he had never even seen a live horse. Where Alice Klein came from, in the Dakota Black Hills, life must be very different from a southern California big city.

What had she done, to get herself kicked out of school and sent up here with Vanguard Mining?

He doubted that he was going to find out any time soon. Alice Klein was not the sort of person you could easily ask a question like that.