Tales from the Academy

Book Two

Second Form

First Interlude

"Two weeks!?" shouted Rear Admiral Sylvia Thayer at the face on her terminal. "That's what you said two weeks ago, and two weeks before that!"

"I'm sorry, Admiral," replied the face, "we are doing everything we can to complete the project."

"I have three thousand new cadets arriving in six days! Just what do you expect me to do with them?"

"Ur...I understood that you had contingency plans, Admiral..."

"And it looks like I'm going to have to implement them, doesn't it?" Thayer shouted. She angrily cut the connection and slammed her hand down on her desk.

"Damn!"

What in the world was the Admiralty thinking when they gave this job to a civilian contractor? I can't give the man any orders-Hell! I can't even have him taken out and shot! Which is precisely what she felt like doing. Of course she knew perfectly well, why the contractor had gotten the job: a very powerful member of the House of Lords owned the firm. There was nothing resembling Conflict of Interest laws in the Star Kingdom where the aristocracy were concerned, and this sort of thing happened all the time. The only satisfaction Thayer could get was the fact that the penalty clauses in the contract would probably end up costing that powerful lord a considerable amount of money on this particular piece of pork-barrel. That, and the fact that Thayer had nothing to do with the initial planning or selection of the builder. She could not be held responsible-she just had to live with the consequences.

Or rather, her cadets were going to have to live with it. Six days from now three thousand brand new cadets would be arriving and there was no place for them to live. Phase Two of the New Cadet Dormitory was already a month behind schedule, and she had just been informed that it would be at least another two weeks before the cadets could move in. Fortunately, she had made contingency plans, they were not terribly good ones, but they were all she had.

Thayer took a deep breath and composed herself. She pressed a button on her terminal and a moment later her adjutant answered.

"Yes, Admiral?" said Lt. Commander Semancik.

"Chris, I'm afraid it's confirmed. We are going to have to proceed with Operation Sardine."

"Very good, Admiral, I have all the orders ready to send at your word," replied Semancik crisply.

"Actually, it is not 'very good', but I appreciate your efforts on this."

"My pleasure, Admiral," said Thayer's young adjutant. "Do you have any estimation of how long we will be operating under these conditions?"

"The 'Master Builder' said another two weeks, so we should plan for six," said Thayer, making no effort to keep her irritation out of her voice.

"Aye aye, ma'am, I'll send out the orders at once."

"Thank you, Chris," said Thayer, and she closed the connection.

The orders about to be sent out would cause the newly advanced Second Form cadets to double up-two to a room. This would free up enough rooms for the new First Form cadets-also two to a room. It was not a huge sacrifice for the cadets and they would certainly be living under worse conditions once they entered active service after graduation. Even so, Thayer hated to put them through this. They were having so much demanded of them as it was, they did not need this further distraction. Thayer felt like she had failed them. They've pledged us their lives, you would think we could at least accomplish this much for them in return!

Thayer leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. She had completed one full form as Commandant. The Fourth Form class had graduated last week and there had been no major difficulties. The new curriculum was working better than expected and the Admiralty was pleased. Still, there had been problems. The first form under the new curriculum had doubled the total enrollment, and the incoming form would nearly double it again. Finding the instructors to handle all of the extra classes had not been easy, and there had been a few more resignations among the older faculty as they saw how the new program was really going to work.

But there was no mass revolt; that was my biggest fear.

None of the major disasters that might have occurred had done so, but Thayer had to admit that the last thirteen months had been as hectic as anything she had ever experienced while fighting the Peeps. The tremendous variety of problems she had to deal with had come as a surprise, too. It was not like commanding a ship or a squadron where the problems usually fell into routine categories-at least when you were not actually in combat. She had to do everything from hosting the Queen, to soothing irate faculty to wiping the noses of sobbing cadets who were on the verge of flunking out-literally, on one occasion. Fortunately, she had an excellent staff. Lt. Commander Christopher Semancik was a superb adjutant and took a major load off Thayer's shoulders. But there were some things that no one but Thayer could handle.

One of the most difficult tasks, and one she should have anticipated but had not, was dealing with the issue of discipline and the cadets from the Peerage. As she had predicted months ago, the older cadets had been upset to find that they now had to toe the same line as everyone else, and there had been some loud protests. That, she had expected. What she had not expected was just how far the little snots would go in their protests. Some of them had come to her personally to complain-something she would have never dreamed of when she was a cadet. When they got no satisfaction from Thayer, they had gone to their parents, who had in turn gone to the Admiralty. The sheer gall of these people had astounded Thayer. She knew that a lot of the nobility were arrogant and spoiled, but she had never come face to face with it like this before.

Some of them had contacted her directly, and a few-a very few-had even seen her point of view and dropped things then and there. Most, however had gone straight to the top and complained to whichever Space Lord they could get through to. So far the Admiralty had stood by Thayer and shielded her from most of the grief. She knew she was making powerful enemies and she wondered how much longer it would be before some real pressure started to develop.

Worries like those made this current mess with the dormitory that much more aggravating. Thayer, herself, was tempted to lodge a complaint with the Admiralty, but she resisted the urge. First, it would do no good: it was not like they could get a new contractor at this point. More importantly, the Admiralty had far more important things demanding its attention right now. The Peoples' Republic had recently launched a series of surprise counterattacks. Thayer had only gotten the sketchiest information, but it sounded serious. The Admiralty was like a stirred up nest of Sphinxian fire-slugs and they did not need the Commandant of the Academy complaining because her cadets were forced to sleep two to a room!

Thayer sighed and checked the time. She had a meeting coming up unlike anything she had faced so far as Commandant. She looked up at Captain Helen Zilwicki's portrait.

"I've had some unusual duties to perform since I've been here, Helen," she said to the painting, "but none as strange as the one I'm about to. I hope that girl of yours is up to this."

Thayer pressed the com button and her secretary answered.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"You can send the cadets in now, Gwen."

"Right away, Admiral."

"Thank you, Gwen," said Thayer and she closed the circuit.

In a moment the door to her office swung open and three cadets entered. The first one through was Cadet-Major Helen Zilwicki. She was followed by a very tall young man and a much smaller boy. The three of them lined up in front of Thayer's desk, came to attention and saluted. Thayer returned their salute.

"At ease," said Thayer in a friendly voice. "I want to thank you for cutting short your leave to meet with me like this. I also want to assure you that none of you are in any trouble-not even you Mr. Hinsworth."

The three cadets relaxed slightly, but the boy blushed and looked sheepish.

"Please, let's be comfortable." Thayer directed them to the sofa and chairs by the fireplace and rolled over there herself. She summoned a steward to fetch coffee, although the cadets were probably too nervous to want any. At least Cadets McDermott and Hinsworth looked nervous, Helen showed no emotion at all. While they were waiting for the coffee, McDermott and Hinsworth were looking around the room from their seats with great interest at all of the artifacts. McDermott caught sight of the portrait of Captain Helen Zilwicki and looked sharply at the young Helen.

"It's quite a collection, isn't it, Mr. McDermott?" said Thayer. "I've hardly had a chance to really examine more than a fraction of it, myself."

"Yes, ma'am," said McDermott nervously.

"I've been thinking about rotating some of the items to the Academy Museum. It is a shame that so few people get a chance to see these things."

The steward returned and shortly they all had cups of coffee. Thayer looked over the three young people sitting across from her. McDermott looks like what a cadet should look like, thought Thayer, the other two are just so young!

"Once again, thank you for coming," began Thayer. "As I said, none of you are in trouble. In fact, I called you here in hopes of keeping a friend of yours out of trouble." The cadets looked puzzled. "I am referring to your roommate, Andreanne Payne."

Looks of concern immediately crossed the faces of the cadets. McDermott seemed particularly anxious.

"Is she all right, Admiral?" he asked.

Interesting! thought Thayer.

"Oh, yes, she's fine. In fact, she should be arriving back on the island with her parents any moment now. Cadet Payne is not in any trouble either, but I am going to ask your help in seeing that she stays out of trouble." The cadets stared at her blankly.

"I'm sure you are all aware that Cadet Payne is from Grayson," continued Thayer. The cadets nodded. "I would imagine that you also know a bit about the society and culture of Grayson and how that makes Cadet Payne's presence here so unusual. What you might not fully appreciate is just how important that makes her. I am sure she never expected this when she applied to the Academy, but a great many people are now taking interest in her progress."

"Naturally, the Navy and the Government of Manticore very much wish her to graduate and receive her commission. For the women of Grayson to be able to participate in their military would be a tremendous increase in the strength of a very important ally. Many people on Grayson, including the Protector and other high ranking officials are also eager for Cadet Payne's success. Unfortunately, there are reactionary elements in Grayson's society who are just as eager for her to fail."

The three cadets sitting in front of Thayer looked surprised. Frowns creased their faces as they considered this.

"As you are probably aware, the alliance with Manticore and the coming of the late Lady Honor Harrington have caused considerable upheaval in Grayson's society. For hundreds of years the women of Grayson were kept as second class citizens. Even today, they still cannot vote or serve in the armed forces and even their rights to own property are severely limited. Protector Mayhew's reforms and the example set by Lady Harrington are bringing about changes to that situation, but there is still much opposition. Cadet Payne is in the process of setting another example that many on Grayson will oppose."

"I do not believe that we need fear any deliberate act to sabotage Cadet Payne and fortunately she is bright and hard working and seems truly dedicated to achieving her goal. However, there are several different ways to measure success or failure. The Grayson's place a great deal of importance on the idea of protecting their women's "virtue". Much of their social structure is geared toward shielding women from what they consider corrupting influences. Sadly, a great many of the more conservative factions on Grayson look at the alliance with Manticore as just such a corrupting influence."

Thayer gave a slight look of distaste and it was mirrored in the faces of the cadets opposite her.

"What that means," said Thayer, "is that even if Cadet Payne graduates and receives her commission, she could still end up failing in the larger sense if she does anything to confirm that we are a corrupting influence."

"Admiral, Anny would never do anything to dishonor the Academy or the Fleet!" blurted out McDermott.

Very Interesting! This may work better than I'd hoped.

"I'm sure you are correct, Mr. McDermott. But there are things that we would not consider dishonorable that some Graysons might think differently about. How much do you all know about the Grayson's attitudes towards sex?"

To Thayer's surprise, all three cadets blushed fiercely and squirmed in their chairs, but Cadet Hinsworth was obviously trying to suppress a grin . She felt briefly alarmed, but forced herself to relax. If anything has happened, I have not been able to find out about it, so hopefully no one else could either.

"Uh, they are a lot more conservative than we are, Admiral," said Helen after a moment.

"Yes, they are," said Thayer, trying to keep her curiosity about the cadet's reaction from showing. "While Manticore does not approve of wanton promiscuity, we have no real taboo against sex between unmarried persons. The Graysons do. In fact, they have actual civil laws against it. Sex outside of marriage is considered sinful by their religion and illegal by their courts."

The cadets were shaking their heads and Cadet Hinsworth muttered something under his breath.

"The bottom line is that Cadet Payne is not married. While she is here she cannot get married and therefore, in the eyes of the Graysons, should not be having sex with anyone."

"I have done a bit of research," continued Thayer, "and it seems that in reality, a lot more sex between unmarried persons goes on there than the Graysons would like to admit. However, people in the public eye are expected to live up to their ideal and are harshly criticized if they do not." Thayer paused and stared at the cadets.

"Unfortunately, Cadet Payne is very much in the public eye at the moment."

Cadet McDermott looked upset. "Anny has never...!" he began. He blushed but went on: "I mean Cadet Payne's actions are above reproach, ma'am!" he said earnestly.

"I'm very glad to hear you say that, Mr. McDermott and the reason I've asked the three of you here is to help make sure they stay that way."

Yes, as incredible as it seems the chastity of Cadet Andreanne Payne has become a matter of national security!

"We'd be honored to help in this great cause, Admiral," said Cadet Hinsworth speaking up for the first time. Helen looked daggers at him and Thayer suppressed a grin of her own.

"Mr. Hinsworth, I will be the first to admit the humorous aspects of this situation, but I hope you can appreciate the serious issues I've mentioned. I am also counting on the three of you, as friends of Cadet Payne, to help her in this matter." Hinsworth blushed and nodded his head.

"What do you want us to do, Admiral?" asked Helen.

"That is a good question, and I wish I had a definite answer for you," said Thayer. "This may all be unnecessary worry on my part. I am hoping that Cadet Payne realizes the situation as well as we do and will use her good judgment. She may have every intention of avoiding a romance at this stage in her life." Thayer glanced at McDermott who dropped his eyes. On the other hand, she has already proved, just by being here, that she is willing to challenge Grayson's notions of propriety. I hope her rebellious streak isn't too wide!

"But it is part of my job to plan for every contingency and try to head off trouble before it happens-and I guess that is about as good a description of what I want from you as I can come up with. Head off trouble before it happens. I have done a little rearrangement of your class schedules and one of you is now in virtually every one of Cadet Payne's classes. You will also be around her in off duty hours. Keep an eye on her, discourage romantic overtures by other cadets, and keep me informed of anything you can't handle."

Thayer looked at the cadets while they digested what she had told them.

"I want you to understand, however, that this is all unofficial. I am not giving you any authority to order Cadet Payne, or anyone else, to cease and desist. If she is determined to carry on a romance neither you or I have any right to stop her. She is not a prisoner here and she has the same rights as any Manticoran citizen. It would be best if she never finds out about this meeting and I ask you not to repeat any of this to anyone else. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Admiral," said Helen, and the others nodded their heads in agreement.

"Excellent! Perhaps you can consider this an exercise in unconventional tactics," said Thayer with a smile.

The cadets smiled in return and seemed to relax. Cadet Hinsworth had a grin that made Thayer shudder slightly. She suddenly felt sorry for any boy that might take a romantic interest in Andreanne Payne!

"There is one other matter," said Thayer and that got the cadets' attention again. "In Grayson society, every girl or woman theoretically has an adult male who is responsible for their safety and well-being. Married women have their husbands, unmarried women have their fathers or brothers or other male relatives. If a woman has to travel away from her usual guardian, a "male protector" will be designated."

"Cadet Payne's father is her guardian under Grayson law, but obviously there is a considerable physical separation between him in Landing and Cadet Payne here on Saganami Island. The Paynes had hoped that there would be no problem with that, but apparently in recent months the opposition on Grayson has started to make an issue of it. It seems incredible that these people could waste time on a thing like this in the middle of a war, but there it is."

"The obvious solution is to appoint a male protector for her while she is here. Unfortunately, I cannot pass the physical and, in fact, none of the instructors or administrators are acceptable because of their responsibilities towards all of the other cadets. What is required is someone who is in close proximity to Cadet Payne on a regular basis. The three of you are the obvious candidates. Ms. Zilwicki, you are disqualified for the same reason I am; that leaves Mr. McDermott and Mr. Hinsworth."

Cadet McDermott seemed to be about to jump out of his seat-as Thayer had expected-but she continued before he had a chance.

"Cadet Hinsworth, your lineage would be quite impressive, but I'm afraid your youth and small stature makes you a rather unconvincing guardian. Mr. McDermott, on the other hand, fits the requirements to a tee. How about it, Patric? Would you consider being Cadet Payne's male protector?"

"Yes, ma'am!" said the young man, far too enthusiastically. "I'd be happy to!"

"I rather thought you might," grinned Thayer. "I might add that Cadet Payne has been brought into the loop on this aspect of things. She has discussed this with her father and I'm told that she specifically requested that you be chosen." The boy's grin looked like it would split his head in two.

"You realize that your 'male protector' position will be strictly for form's sake. You will not actually be expected to be Cadet Payne's bodyguard." Thayer paused and then looked closely at the cadet. "Mr. McDermott, I am counting on you not to become part of the problem we were discussing earlier," said Thayer, fixing the young man with her gaze. "It is obvious that you have some feelings for Cadet Payne-don't let them ruin what she is trying to accomplish."

"Yes, Admiral, uh, that is, no, Admiral, I won't," said McDermott whose grin had vanished. He sat there looking very thoughtful.

"Very good," continued Thayer. "As I said, Cadet Payne and her parents should be on the island by now. There is some brief ceremony involved in making you Cadet Payne's protector, Mr. McDermott. I have invited the Payne's to dinner at my residence, and I now invite the three of you as well. Hopefully I can make up for dragging you back here from your leaves six hours early."

The cadets agreed enthusiastically-not that they were likely to refuse-and the four of them left the office together. As Thayer rolled past Captain Zilwicki's portrait, she glanced up at it. Yes, Helen, I've had to do some strange things in this job!

Chapter Eight

Cadet Andreanne Payne leaned back against the cool stone and looked out on the dazzling waters of Silver Gulf. What a glorious day! she thought. The blue sky was almost cloudless and the sun reflected off the indigo waters that surrounded Saganami Island. The lush, green vegetation rushed down the hills to meet the sea along gleaming white beaches. Birds wheeled overhead and a gentle breeze ruffled Anny's long brown hair.

As beautiful as the view was, Anny Payne was glad for the two tall rows of trees to her right and left that blocked off three-quarters of the world from her. Like most natives of the planet Grayson, she was a bit of an agoraphobe. Grayson was an even more beautiful world than Manticore, but that beauty hid a deadly threat. Grayson was extraordinarily rich in heavy metals and they were in everything. The ground, the water, the plants, even the dust in the air itself could be toxic to humans. The Grayson's lived in tightly controlled environments and being outside was synonymous with danger. Every child was trained from a very early age to stay indoors and never go out without protective clothing. Anny had lived on Manticore for the last ten years, but those earlier years of strict training had left their mark. She loved being able to go outdoors without fear, but the fear was still there.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to feel the warm sunshine and the cooling breeze on her face together. After a few moments she sighed and looked down at her compad and forced herself to continue reading.

"Hi! I thought I'd find you up here," said a voice. Anny looked up and saw Patric McDermott walking towards her along a path that came through the row of trees to her right. Anny smiled.

"Hi, Patric! How are you doing?"

"Pretty good," he answered. He walked over and sat down on the grass beside her. "That's quite a climb to get up here."

"Yes, I know," she answered with a grin. "That's why I like this spot-not too many people want to make the climb."

Patric grinned back at her. "It is nice to get away from the mob in the dorms for a while."

"How are you and Alby getting along?" asked Anny.

"Oh, not too bad. I'm liking the little twerp better as time goes by. Kind of amazing when I think how I wanted to strangle him that first day we were here."

Anny laughed at the memory. The cadets were now living two to a room because of the delay in the completion of the new dormitory. Patric and Alby were in one room while Helen and Anny were in another. Four other cadets from 'C' Company were in the other two rooms. It was not too bad an arrangement-except for the situation with the bathroom.

"Are you getting along with Helen?" asked Patric.

"Oh yes! No problems at all really, except..."

"Except what?" prompted Patric.

"Well... she talks in her sleep," said Anny quietly.

"Keeping you awake, is she?" said Patric with a grin.

"It's not just that," replied Anny, and there was no amusement in her voice. "She has nightmares, too-bad ones."

"Oh," said Patric, suddenly serious as well.

Anny sighed. "I don't know what to make of Helen, Patric. I'm coming to love her like my own sister, but there is so much anger inside her. I won't repeat some of the things she has said in her sleep, but it's enough to give me nightmares."

"I guess losing her mother must have really hurt her," said Patric.

"She's hurting inside, that's for sure," agreed Anny, "but there's more than that. She hates the Peeps, Patric. She hates them and wants to hurt them. One time I woke up and she was standing on her bed in one of her martial arts positions. I turned on the light and her eyes were wide open but she was still asleep. She was fighting someone in her dream. I was afraid to move."

"Wow. You would think the psych people could do something for her," said Patric with a frown.

"I wish someone could do something for her."

"Well, it should only be another week or two before we get our own rooms back," said Patric.

"That won't stop Helen's nightmares," said Anny.

Patric was silent for a while. He looked out on the same vista Anny had been admiring.

"Quite a view from up here," he said. "A real updraft, too where the wind hits the hillside. I guess that's why they did the hang-gliding from here."

"Yes," agreed Anny, "and that's why they put this here, too." She indicated the stone they were leaning against with a jerk of her head.

Patric got to his feet and turned to regard what Anny had been referring to. She got up as well and stood beside him. The stone was a huge block of carved Sphinxian granite, its distinct coppery color sparkling in the sunshine. The block was nearly two meters tall and on top of it was a bronze statue of a person that was twice life size. The statue was of a woman dressed in a naval uniform. She had short hair and a proud, noble face. On her shoulder was a Sphinxian treecat. The woman and the 'cat were looking out over Silver Gulf and their gazes seemed to be resting on something beyond this world; beyond the reach of mortal eyes. Carved into the granite were the words:

Honor Stephanie Harrington

and "Nimitz"

Commodore, Royal Manticoran Navy

257 A.L. - 286 A.L.

"Let's Be About It"

The statue was new; it had been erected here only a few weeks before Anny and Patric had first come to Saganami Island. The bronze had not had time to acquire much of a patina and it gleamed like gold. On the other three sides of the granite base were bronze tablets chronicling the career and achievements of one of Manticore's greatest heroes. In addition to her many military accomplishments, Harrington held the Academy hang gliding record. With hang gliding discontinued from the curriculum, she might hold it for all time. Anny and Patric stared at the statue in silence for several minutes.

"She was really something, wasn't she?" Patric said at last in a whisper.

"Oh yes," whispered Anny in reply, "someone like her comes along only once in a century-once in a lifetime."

"I guess you really admire her," said Patric in a more normal voice.

Anny looked at him and smiled a sad smile. "It's more than that, Patric. You can admire her as a great naval hero, but you can't really understand what Lady Harrington meant to me-or to many of the women of Grayson. No one who's not from Grayson can really understand. She saved our world, Patric, not once, but twice. She owed us nothing, but she saved us anyway. The things she did would have been extraordinary for anyone, but the fact that she was a woman..." Anny trailed off.

"Is she why you wanted to come to the Academy, Anny?" asked Patric.

"One of the reasons, maybe the main reason." She turned away and took several steps and then stopped and looked into the distance as if mimicking the statue.

"You said you would tell me about it someday. How about now?"

Anny turned back to look at Patric. After a moment a faint smile reappeared on her face. She walked back to the base of the statue and sat down where she had been before. Patric came and sat beside her again.

"All right," said Anny, "but you first."

"Me first, what?" asked Patric, in surprise.

"First you tell me why you came to the Academy."

Patric shrugged his broad shoulders. "There's not much to tell. I've always been fascinated with ships and the Navy. I decided I wanted to become a part of this, so I did."

"'You wanted to become a part of this, so you did'. You make it seem so natural. Like you wanted to wear a pair of black socks today, so you did. It wasn't quite that easy for me, Patric," said Anny.

"Were your parents against you coming here?"

"Well, they took some convincing," said Anny with a small laugh. Her smile faded quickly. "And unlike you, I had to convince my father. If he had said 'no', I would not be here-no matter what Manticoran law might say."

"That's hard to imagine," said Patric, shaking his head. "It seems so unfair, so..."

"Primitive? Barbaric?" suggested Anny. She saw the embarrassment in Patric's face and she smiled. "I know you don't mean to insult my people, but that's really what a lot of Manticorans think, isn't it?"

"I guess maybe so," admitted Patric slowly. "That's not very tolerant of us, is it?"

"Intolerant of intolerance?" said Anny, and she laughed again. "I suppose there are worse flaws to have." She quickly became serious.

"Grayson is a very strict society, Patric. Our world is cruel and the early days of the colony were very difficult. We needed strictness to survive. Everyone-men and women-had their place. After a while, that strictness became a habit-even after the original need was gone. But now, people are starting to question the old ways. Protector Mayhew was beginning to make changes even before the alliance with Manticore. Then Lady Harrington came to Grayson and showed us that a woman could do anything that a man could do. A lot of Graysons did not want to accept that, but Lady Harrington has shown us the truth and there is no way that can be undone now-even though she is gone."

Patric said quietly: "You must really hate the Peeps for what they did."

Anny was silent for a few seconds. " I suppose I do, but I don't think I hate them the way Helen does-at least I hope not. When the Peeps captured Lady Harrington I had already decided to try and come to the Academy. I had fantasies of someday being with the force that rescued her from the prison camp. Then when they executed her..." her voice choked with the memory of the tears.

"I'm sorry, Anny," said Patric.

"It hurt me a lot," she said shaking her head sadly, "and there are times when the hurt turns to anger. But it doesn't last. If I try, I can get really mad about it, but it's not laying inside me, burning, the way it is with Helen." She looked up at Patric and forced a smile.

"I've never been able to hold a grudge. My mothers always thought that was a character flaw in me. They say everyone should be able to hold a good grudge when they need to... why is that funny?" Patric was grinning and Anny looked at him curiously.

"Oh, it's not funny that you can't hold a grudge, I'm sort of that way myself, it was the way you said: 'mothers', that still seems so strange to me."

"Strange that I have two mothers?" said Anny with a feigned show of indignity. "What's wrong with having two mothers?"

"Oh, nothing, I suppose," said Patric innocently. "It just takes some getting used to."

"Like a Grayson girl at Saganami Academy? You Mono-Maternals are all alike: so intolerant!" said Anny with a grin.

"'Mono-Maternals'? Is that what you call us?"

"No, I just made that up now," said Anny.

Patric grinned in turn. "Doesn't it make a difference which mother is really...?"

"You mean which one is my biological mother?" asked Anny. "Well, I know which one that is, if that's what you mean. But I love both of them equally, and they both love me like their own child. My brother and sisters are my brother and sisters no matter which womb they came out of. Family means everything to us Graysons and living here on Manticore for ten years has not changed that."

"It changed you enough to want to come to the Academy," observed Patric.

"I guess it did, didn't it?" admitted Anny. "My father is one of the progressives who support the reforms-that's why he was sent here in the first place. He enrolled all of us in the best private schools in Landing and I guess that's where I picked up my radical ideas. I was a huge fan of Lady Harrington for years-my father admired her too, by the way. Then one day a girl in my class mentioned that she was going to try and come to the Academy when she was old enough and I suddenly thought: 'Why couldn't I do that too?'"

"What did your father say?" asked Patric.

"Well, that was about three T-years ago and it was quite a while before I had the nerve to mention it to my parents. At first they just laughed. Then when they realized I was serious they said 'no'. But I kept bringing it up and giving them reasons why they should let me, and I guess I wore them down," said Anny with a small smile.

Her smile faded. "I think when Lady Harrington was executed was when my father changed his mind," she said quietly. "We had a long talk and in the end he gave me permission to take the entrance exams. I think that maybe he did not really believe I could pass the exams, but when I did, he was proud of me." Anny's voice sank to a whisper and tears glistened in her eyes.

"I'll bet he was. Your father seems like a very good man, Anny. I liked him when we met at the Commandant's House."

"He likes you too, Patric," said Anny, smiling and looking at her friend. "He would not have made you my 'male protector' if he didn't." Patric blushed and looked down at the ground.

"You're not sorry I wanted you as my 'male protector' are you, Patric?"

"Oh no!" said Patric hastily. "I'm really glad! I know it's quite an honor, although I probably don't appreciate how much of an honor, the way a Grayson would."

"It is an honor, Patric," said Anny, "it is an indication of complete trust on the part of my father. Trust like that doesn't come easily, even between Graysons. And considering what a 'corrupting influence' you Manticorans are..."

Patric looked at her sharply and Anny looked back with a mischievous expression.

"But..." Patric began.

"Those were Admiral Thayer's words, weren't they?" asked Anny and a sly grin grew on her face. "Don't worry, Alby did not spill the beans, and it wasn't even Helen talking in her sleep. It was my father. He and Admiral Thayer had several long talks about me and my...situation. Admiral Thayer intended to keep the fact that you and Alby and Helen would be guarding my honor a secret, but there are no secrets between me and my father."

Patric's look of surprise slowly turned to thoughtfulness.

"What about between a 'male protector' and his charge?" he asked after a few moments.

Anny was surprised. She had not expected this question-at least not this soon. She blushed and looked away. Oh my! Maybe I should not have said anything, she thought. Before she could come up with any response, Patric continued.

"I really like you, Anny, you know that don't you? I might even be in love with you. Is a 'male protector' allowed to love the woman he's guarding?"

"It's been known to happen," Anny answered hesitantly. She was silent for a few seconds and then reached out and gently touched Patric's cheek.

"Dear Patric," she whispered. "All right, no secrets. I really like you, too. Maybe I even love you, I'm not sure yet." She let her hand drop and she turned away slightly and hugged her knees up to her chest. Patric said nothing, but continued to look at her.

"I'm not expecting anything, Anny," he said after a while. "I promised the Admiral and I swore an oath to your father, and I intend to fulfill both of them. But I just wanted you to know how I feel."

Anny Payne looked up and smiled at the young man sitting next to her. A powerful feeling of attraction filled her. I think I do love him, she thought. What a strange situation! Any other time or place I'd be thrilled to have him interested in me. He's kind and gentle and handsome...and sexy. She suppressed a giggle at the memory of seeing Patric coming out of the shower. But here and now can I afford to love him? Can I let him love me? I expected a lot of challenges at the Academy, but I never thought about this one!

"I guess we may have a problem, Patric," she said at last. "We both have destinies waiting for us and as much as we both might want it, I don't think becoming lovers fits into that right now."

Patric smiled a grim smile and nodded his head. "You are right, Anny. I'm willing to wait if you are. But we can still be friends."

Anny nodded enthusiastically in return. "Yes, friends always, Patric. Nothing can ever change that. The Tester knows where we will end up, but you will always be my friend."

Patric looked away. He did not seem too hurt, but Anny continued to stare at him. After a bit he looked back at her. "'The Tester', that's the name of your god?" he asked.

"Well, that's what we often call him," answered Anny, glad to have a change of subject. "He really is just 'God', but 'The Tester' is a commonly used expression."

"You are a member of 'The Church of Humanity Unchained', do I have that right?" asked Patric.

"Yes, that's it. Our religion is very important to us, too. I guess you know that Grayson was originally settled by a group of religious separatists."

"I've been doing some reading up on Grayson since I met you, Anny," said Patric with a smile. "It must be a little difficult to find a church to go to around here, though."

"The embassy in Landing has its own chapel and chaplain. It's true that there is not one here on the island, but I do go over to the Academy Chapel to pray when I feel the need."

"And you call your god 'The Tester'?"

"Yes," replied Anny, "part of our belief is that God presents us with a series of challenges during our lives. How we meet those tests will determine how He judges us."

"And if you fail, you go to Hell or something? I hope those mid-terms I had last form were not part of my test!"

Anny laughed. "I hope not, too. Actually, the question of what happens to those that fail their tests is a major matter of theological debate on Grayson. Some believe that those who fail do go to Hell, while others believe they have to keep taking the test over until they pass."

"What do you believe?"

"I'm not really sure," answered Anny. "Our God is a stern and demanding god, but he is a loving god, too. I can't see Him casting people into Hell because of their frailties. Still, my beliefs are pretty unorthodox compared to some."

"Well, I know what a radical you are..." said Patric with a grin.

"Yes, I am a bit of a troublemaker, aren't I?" said Anny, grinning back. After a moment her face became serious again. "It's pretty scary sometimes. I never really thought about the uproar I might cause. This was something I just wanted to do for myself-and for her."

"You are doing great, Anny, I'm sure she'd be proud of you," said Patric.

"I hope so," replied Anny and she sighed. She rested her chin on her knees and gazed out to sea. "Sometimes I have doubts if I can really do this."

"But you are doing great in your classes," protested Patric.

"It's not just the classes. There's more to being an officer than just knowing the answers to test questions. I don't know if I have that."

Patric looked at her for a while. "You've been kind of down in the dumps for a couple of weeks now. Don't deny it! We 'male protectors' notice that sort of thing! What's the problem? Out with it! as Chief Seaton would say."

"Oh, it's nothing really," said Anny, "just something that happened up on Hephaestus."

"When you went up to fetch down the new cadets?"

"Yes. I had about a hundred cadets to ride herd on. Most of them were fine. You remember what it was like on arrival day."

"Sure," said Patric, "I was nervous and excited. You mean some of them gave you trouble? Wow, I never would have dared to cross Cadet Lathrap!"

"That's just what I mean. There was one kid, probably noble born from the look of him, he just would not pay any attention to me. It was like he sensed I couldn't enforce my authority," said Anny shaking her head. "At one point I had to threaten to call Security if he would not shut up and do what he was told."

"Well, some of the nobility are pretty stuck up."

"That shouldn't make any difference! I can't expect to have a marine in battle armor follow me around to back me up. How can I be an officer if I can't get people to follow my orders?"

"Command is not an easy thing, Anny. We are just Second Form, we have a lot to learn yet," said Patric in an encouraging tone.

"I just hope I can learn it," said Anny, not much encouraged. She continued to stare out at the ocean, but then she smiled and looked at Patric.

"When I was home on leave, do you know what my brother Jeremiah said?" asked Anny. Patric shook his head. "Jerry's about five T-years old, and he said that when he grew up he wanted to go to the Academy just like his big sister! My mothers nearly cried-I did too. I guess I can't let Jerry down, can I?"

"No you can't," said Patric with a big smile. He looked at his chrono. "We better be getting back, there's an inspection in less than an hour."

They got to their feet and slowly walked away from the statue, through the line of trees and down the hill. Their drill instructor would have approved of the way they carefully stayed in step, but he would have noted that their distance from each other was much less than the twenty centimeters prescribed by the regulations.

Chapter Nine

Anny Payne pulled back on the stick and her Javelin Advanced Trainer shot skyward. The gee forces pushed her back into her seat until she could hardly move and her vision turned slightly red. In any other situation it would have been highly uncomfortable, but right now it was heaven. She pushed the stick to the side and slightly forward and worked the control pedals at the same time. The Javelin rolled sharply to the left and then leveled off and shot away.

"Yahoo!" shouted Anny to no one in particular. She checked her sensor display. There was a lot of jamming, but she knew her quarry was out there somewhere. She began a random series of turns and altitude changes, quickly flicking her eyes between her sensor displays and the view through the canopy. The feeling of power and freedom she had was just amazing.

Anny Payne had always liked flying and she had done well on the basic trainers she had flown during her first form. But the first time she'd been allowed in a Javelin she knew she had found her perfect match. The aircraft was like a part of her and she could make it do things that even surprised her instructors.

She completed another turn. Where is that little devil? Her opponent had to be close by, but she could not see through the jamming. Anny wished she were as proficient with the sensors as she was with the Javelin. She knew it was possible to get better results than the automatic mode was giving her, but she was not that good with the equipment yet.

After a moment the sensor display pointed out a possible contact off to her left. She looked that way, but there was a huge bank of clouds only a few klicks off.

"Hiding, eh? Well, I guess I'll just have to go in after you!"

Anny turned her craft and headed into the clouds. The sensor contact got closer, but it did not get any stronger or clearer. She was just beginning to have doubts about what she was chasing when her sensors burned through the jamming.

"Decoy!" she exclaimed aloud. She instantly changed course, but a loud buzzing on her Threat Alarm told her she had been suckered. The hunter had become the hunted. Behind me!

Anny did not panic, she rolled the Javelin onto its back and then pulled the stick towards her to send her craft straight down at eleven hundred kilometers an hour. She knew that her opponent had a deadly aim and would only need one clear shot to finish her. Anny had no intention of giving her foe that clear shot.

One quick glance at the sensors told Anny that her pursuer had nosed over and was screaming down on her tail. She let two heartbeats pass and then she slammed the countergravity unit on full. She dropped her flaps and pulled back hard on the stick.

The tactics she and her foe were using were little changed from those used two millennia earlier when craft similar to Anny's Javelin had ruled the skies of Old Earth. But if any pilot of that era had tried the move Anny Payne was doing, he would have torn his plane apart. Fortunately, the Javelins were made of considerably sterner stuff. In fact, they were considerably tougher than the pilots flying them.

Anny's maneuver put the plane into a flat spin and dropped her speed from eleven hundred kilometers an hour to less than three hundred in the blink of an eye. Anny started to gray-out with the gees, but she clung to consciousness. Her foe was right behind her, and she was a sitting duck. But that was what she was counting on.

Before the enemy could fire, the Automatic Collision Avoidance System went into action and wrenched the nose of the enemy craft-and its laser-away from Anny's spinning ship. The enemy had not even flashed past her yet, but Anny had already killed the countergrav, raised her flaps and put the engines on full. She came out of the spin and was now on the enemy's tail.

Tricky my friend, but not tricky enough!

Anny lined up the enemy in her sights and pushed the firing stud.

She missed.

The enemy craft began to maneuver violently, but Anny stuck with it and fired again.

And missed again. Damn!

The hurtling pair broke through the clouds and the blue ocean sparkled far below. Anny took a deep breath and carefully lined up the target again. She paused and then pulled the stick slightly. Just as she did, the target veered and slid right into Anny's sights. She pushed the stud and a loud chime sounded in her earphones.

"Gotcha!" she shouted.

Anny Payne pulled her Javelin out of its dive and then did a quick victory roll. Four out of five! Oh yes! she exulted.

"Training Flight Delta, this is Saganami Control. Your mission is complete, return to base. Nice work, Delta Two!" said a voice over Anny's com unit.

"Roger, Saganami Control, instructions received, returning to base," said Anny, trying not to sound too excited.

Anny, turned her craft toward home. The jamming was gone now, and her late foe was coming up beside her on her right. The other Javelin closed in tight and Anny could see the pilot through the canopy. Helen Zilwicki waved to her and gave her a 'thumbs up' gesture.

Anny switched to the open channel. "That was some fight, Helen!" she said to Delta One.

"I almost had you that last time!" answered Helen Zilwicki. "That was a sweet move, Anny! You are going to have to teach me that one."

"I will when I figure out what I did."

"Cut the chatter, Delta Flight." said a voice that the pair recognized as their instructor, Commander Atkinson. "We'll figure out what you did in debriefing, Ms. Payne."

"Aye aye, ma'am," said Anny and Helen in unison. Anny was grinning ear to ear all the way back to Kreskin Field.

After she and Helen had turned their Javelins over to the ground crews and stored their flight gear, the two of them entered one of the debriefing rooms where Commander Margaret Atkinson and a half dozen other cadets were waiting. They found seats and then tried to pay attention to the recorded performances of Alpha, Beta and Gamma flights. Anny was slightly surprised at how amateurish the other mock combats seemed compared to hers and Helen's. Maybe we are something special, she thought.

Finally, it was their turn. Atkinson analyzed the five dogfights that Helen and Anny had fought, but found very little to criticize. When she got to the last fight, she halted the holo-display at the point where Anny had turned the tables on Helen.

"Ms. Payne, that was a very interesting maneuver. I've seen other pilots use their countergravity generators in a fight, but never quite like this," said the Commander. "By ensuring that both yourself and your opponent were diving-and thus adding the planet's gravity to both accelerations-you were able to decelerate even more sharply once you cut in the CG. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Uh, I'm not really sure I learned it anywhere, ma'am," said Anny nervously. "It just seemed like a logical thing to do."

"I see. Ms. Zilwicki, would you have thought of that?"

"No, ma'am, it took me completely by surprise-but I'll sure remember it next time!" said Helen with a grin.

Atkinson turned to the holo display controls and called up another image that she superimposed over the tiny, frozen Javelins. "This is your bio-readout at this point in the combat, Ms. Payne. Thirteen gravities. You were pretty close to blacking out weren't you?"

"I was starting to 'gray', yes, ma'am," said Anny.

"An important point, ladies and gentlemen! Your machines are far tougher than you are. A Javelin can stand accelerations that would kill its pilot. There are built in safety features that should prevent you from killing yourselves, but don't take that for granted." Anny and the rest of the cadets looked properly sobered, but inside her, Anny was still grinning.

"There is another interesting lesson to be learned from Delta Flight's combats," continued Atkinson. "Ms. Payne, your sensors were on automatic throughout all five dogfights. Why was that?"

"I... I'm not that proficient with the sensors yet, ma'am," said Anny and her internal grin vanished.

"Yet you managed to win four out of five combats. Ms. Zilwicki, you were using your sensors on manual a good deal of the time. Your tactics were also excellent. In three of the fights you clearly achieved some degree of surprise and had a superior position over Ms. Payne. Yet you lost four out of five. How do you account for that?"

"Ms. Payne is a better pilot than I am, ma'am," said Helen without hesitation. Anny felt a warm glow of affection for Helen. Not just because of the compliment, but because she had the honesty to say it.

The tiniest of grins played over Atkinson's face as she regarded Helen and Anny. "Superior technique versus natural skill. That's a tough call. Cadet Payne clearly has a very great natural flying skill. Cadet Zilwicki is a fine tactician and has trained herself to get the most out of her equipment. So far natural skill has won out. Ms. Zilwicki, do you expect your piloting skills to improve with more practice?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"With those better skills, do you think you'll be able to beat Ms. Payne?"

"I imagine so, ma'am-assuming she does not get any better."

The tiny grin became a bigger one. "You are not going to make this easy for me, are you, Cadet? The point I'm trying to make here, class-and the point that Ms. Zilwicki keeps snatching away from me-is that while it is wonderful to have natural skill, you can't count on it. Cadet Payne is an excellent natural pilot, but she could be even more effective if she trained herself more thoroughly on the equipment. I cannot expect all of you to have her flying skills. I can expect you to train! Learn to know your equipment. Learn how to get the most out of it. Then when you meet up with some flying fiend like Ms. Payne, you can still wax their tail."

Anny's head had shrunk down to nearly its normal size, but she still felt very good about her performance.

"Ms. Payne," said Atkinson, "in spite of my disparaging remarks concerning your flying skills, I am still very impressed. Ms. Zilwicki, the same goes for you. In two weeks we will be proceeding to formation combat. I want both of you as flight leaders at that time. Ms. Payne I am also making you an assistant flight instructor."

"T-Thank you, ma'am," said Anny and Helen echoed her. Anny was surprised, and a stab of fear went through her. Am I ready for this? All the elation drained out of her in the face of her doubts.

"No need to thank me, you've earned it," said Atkinson who did not notice Anny's changed expression. "That is all for today, class dismissed."

A little while later Anny and Helen were walking back towards the Cadet Dormitory from Kreskin Field.

"Don't mind what Atkinson said, Anny, you can learn to use the sensors, I can never learn to fly the way you do," said Helen. "Every time I thought I had you, you would slip away and turn the tables. The one time I did get you was just a lucky shot."

"Ha! Don't 'lucky shot' me, Cadet-Major! I was the one who was lucky to win four out of five. You're the best tactician and the best shot in the whole Academy!" countered Anny.

Helen shrugged and smiled. "Well, there's no point in arguing over who's the best this or that. I'll be happy to have you as my wingman any day, Anny. And there's no one I'd rather have at Helm in the sims either."

"Thanks, Helen. Coming from you, that really means a lot," said Anny, and she meant it.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes. They came to the Hopewell Athletic Field and stopped to watch the soccer team practicing.

"Anny, can I ask you something?" said Helen after a while.

"Sure, but who's asking: my roommate, my battalion commander, or my wingman?" replied Anny.

"A little of all three, I guess. I've been meaning to talk to you for a while about this and what happened just now reminded me of it."

"What happened just now?" asked Anny, puzzled.

"When Atkinson named you a flight leader. All the blood drained right out of your face. She didn't notice it, but I did. Why don't you want to be a flight leader?"

Anny looked down at the ground, blushing hotly. She didn't know how to answer Helen.

"It's not just that either," continued Helen. "Your grades are excellent, you are in the top ten percent of the class ranking, but you've refused any sort of cadet rank. Even allowing for the spots reserved for the nobility, you should be a company lieutenant or at least a sergeant. You turned it down when I was your company commander back in our first form and you turned it down again two months ago. What gives, Anny?"

Anny chewed on her lip, realized what she was doing and stopped. She looked at Helen and then looked away. She opened her mouth to give the same excuses she had given to her advisor, then stopped again. She remembered Helen's frank answer to Commander Atkinson just a short while ago: 'she's a better pilot than I am' and Anny realized she could not lie to Helen. She took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid, Helen."

"Afraid?" said Helen in genuine surprise. "The girl who deliberately puts her ship into a thirteen gee spin is telling me she's afraid?"

"That's not the same thing. I was only responsible for myself then. I'm not sure I have what it takes to be in charge of others, Helen. I'm afraid."

Helen Zilwicki looked at her friend for a few moments, then pulled Anny over to a bench and they sat down.

"Anny, they are training us to be officers here. How can you be an officer without being in charge of people?"

Anny shuffled her feet. It was a small relief to be able to talk to someone about the fear that had been eating at her, but it still was not easy.

"I don't know, Helen," she said. "You are right, of course, but every time I think about being in command of someone it just gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"The what?" said Helen with a puzzled grin.

"Huh? Oh. That's just an expression. It means I get very nervous."

Helen was silent for a few moments. "Anny, this is something more important than learning to use the Javelins' sensors. If you are going to be an officer you have to be able to give orders." Helen paused for a second. "Do you think your...upbringing has anything to do with this?"

"You mean the fact that I'm a Grayson woman?" asked Anny. "I guess it probably does. Some Grayson women, like the wives of steadholders, have tremendous authority, but most of us never have an opportunity for any sort of leadership. Girls are trained to find husbands and raise children."

"But you have lived on Manticore for ten years," said Helen.

"I know," said Anny miserably, "but my mothers still trained me for a traditional Grayson lifestyle-they never expected for me to come to the Academy!"

"I don't see that it's a matter of training you as a child, it's a matter of confidence, and what you learn here," said Helen.

"Yes, it's a matter of confidence. And I don't have any."

"Well, we've got to do something about that, Anny-and soon."

"It seems so easy for you, Helen. I watch you out in front of the battalion, shouting orders. Everyone obeys you without hesitation. I feel like if I were to try that, everyone would just laugh at me."

"Well, it's not as easy as it looks, believe me!" said Helen with a small smile. "The first time I went out in front of the battalion, I was so nervous, I could hardly walk! But it's like Colonel DuPique says: if you know your stuff and act confident, people will follow you without question. Speaking of which, how are you doing in DuPique's class?"

"All right, I guess," said Anny. "I do fine on the tests and written assignments-I know the theory of all this, Helen, it's just actually doing it that's so hard." Anny started biting her lip again. "DuPique has said a couple of things to me; I think he knows the trouble I'm having, but he's not going to flunk me or anything."

"No, I doubt if he would," said Helen. Anny looked sharply at the girl sitting next to her. She thought she knew what Helen meant.

"You mean he's not going to flunk me because it's politically important to have me pass!" said Anny angrily. Helen flinched and looked hurt.

"Oh, I'm not mad at you, Helen," said Anny disgustedly. "I'm mad at myself for not being able to do this! And the fact that I won't be flunked because of it makes it that much worse. They'll pamper me along and see to it that I graduate. They'll give me the diploma and make me an ensign and send me up to the Fleet." Anny's voice was getting squeaky and tears were forming in her eyes, but she continued to talk. "And then everyone will say how proud they are of me and what a credit I am to Grayson-and it will all be a lie! I won't be an officer! I'll just be this scared little girl in a uniform that everyone is pretending is an officer!" Anny kicked at the grass and looked away, trying not to cry. It had been building up in her for months. The doubts. The fears. Now it was coming out in a rush.

Anny looked back and saw that Helen was staring at her intently. What's she thinking? Will she still be my friend now that she knows what a coward I am? She's the bravest person I've ever met. Nothing stops her. She's like Lady Harrington.

"Anny," said Helen after a few more moments, "we are going to work on this. You had the guts to come to the Academy when the whole universe said you should not. You had the brains and courage to make it this far. You are not going to give up now! We all got together to help Patric when he was having trouble last form, and now we are going to help you."

Anny was incredibly grateful for Helen's words. She sniffed a few times and then smiled a faint smile. "Okay, Cadet-Major, what are your orders, ma'am?"

"That's better! First off, you are going to take that flight leader position and the assistant instructor position and you are going to be great at them. You are the best damn pilot on this island, and it won't be long before everyone knows it. Only a fool will question what you order them to do. Once you've got some experience at leading a flight, I'll see about getting you an NCO position in the battalion. We'll build up your confidence and make a real officer out of you!"

Anny Payne looked at her friend and smiled. "Thank you, Helen," she said quietly, "thank you."

"No problem," said Helen, getting to her feet. Anny got up as well, and they continued walking. Anny was feeling much better than she had in weeks. She had kept trying to put off or ignore her problem, but now that she had confronted it, she felt an enormous relief. She glanced at Helen and thought about what a good friend she was and how lucky she was to have her. A small pang of guilt and worry came to Anny. They were no longer in the same room now that the second section of the dorm had been completed, but she still worried about Helen's nightmares. After all Helen had done for her, Anny wanted to repay her somehow.

"Helen?" said Anny after a while.

"Yes?"

"What are your plans for your next leave?"

Helen laughed. "Getting a little ahead of yourself aren't you? We have another four months to go in this form and then a one month training cruise before our next leave!"

"I know, but I was just wondering, what with your father out-system now."

"Yeah, it's the first time he's accepted an out-system posting since... in a long time," said Helen. "I guess now that I'm out of the house he feels like he can leave Manticore now and then. I had not really thought about the leave. Of course I could just go home-I am old enough to be alone in the house now-or I could go visit relatives. I have two sets of grandparents and assorted aunts, uncles and cousins scattered here and there."

"Would you like to come and stay with me and my family for a while, Helen?" asked Anny tentatively.

Helen stopped and looked at Anny for a moment. "I think I'd like that, Anny, thank you-as long as I would not be any trouble."

"Oh, no trouble at all!" said Anny happily. "My parents have already met you and I've told my brother and sisters all about you in my letters. Oh, this will be grand! I can hardly wait!"

"Well, as long as it is okay with your parents, I'd love to come," said Helen, smiling.

"They'll love to have you!" said Anny in growing enthusiasm. "I know my father was very impressed with you when you met him at the Commandant's house. And my mothers would love to see you again, too. You will be just like one of our family! Gee, since I have two mothers and you...you..."

Anny's elation turned to horror in a split second. Oh Sweet Tester! What have I done!? What a stupid thing to say!

Helen had gone completely still and was staring at Anny with unblinking eyes. As Anny watched a half dozen emotions seemed to flicker over Helen's face and then vanish.

"Oh, Helen!" gasped Anny. "I'm so sorry!" Instinctively, Anny reached out and embraced Helen. She pulled her close and whispered: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again. Helen was as rigid as if she were made of stone. She did not return Anny's embrace, but she did not resist it either. It seemed to Anny like she was trembling, but she could not be sure if it was Helen or herself. A long minute went by and the two remained standing where they were with Anny's arms around Helen. Anny was about to loosen her grip and step back when a laughing female voice suddenly intruded.

"Well, well! Cadet Andreanne Payne getting a hug from her battalion commander, how touching!"

Anny and Helen sprang apart and stared at the source of the voice. Five cadets were standing there, watching them with unpleasant grins on their faces. The one who had spoken was a girl of medium height and reddish hair. Her face was so pretty and mature that it was probably the result of some very expensive bio-sculpture.

"Hey, you know how these Grayson girls are, Sandra: take 'em away from their dolls and they get all insecure," smirked one of the others, a tall boy with dark hair.

"She's just lucky she's got such a considerate officer watching over her-my battalion commander has never given me a hug!" said the first girl. The group all laughed loudly and then walked away.

Anny and Helen stood and watched them leave and then Helen said:

"Who the hell was that?" in an amazed and angry tone.

"That was Lady Sandra Bennett and some of her cronies," said Anny quietly. "She's in Third Battalion."

"You know her?" asked Helen incredulously.

"I've had a few run-ins with her, before. I don't think she likes me."

"What? Why not? Everybody likes you, Anny!" protested Helen.

"That's probably why," replied Anny. Her eyes still on the departing group.

"What do you mean? I don't understand," asked Helen.

Anny shook herself and smiled a shaky smile at Helen. "If you were a Grayson girl, you'd understand."

"Well, not being a Grayson girl, perhaps you'd explain for my benefit?"

Anny laughed sourly. "You know, Helen, for all Manticore's pride at having abolished gender-based stereotypes, I've seen an awful lot of things here that seem very familiar. On Grayson, there are three women for every man. Even with multiple wives allowed, not every man takes three wives-some men don't marry at all. Twenty percent of the women never find a husband. Competition is pretty fierce to find a man. You don't have the imbalance we do on Grayson, but that competition to find a mate is still here-even if you hide it pretty well."

"Find a mate?" said Helen still obviously confused. "What does that have to do with Lady What's-her-name and you?"

"Well, probably nothing directly," said Anny. "On Grayson, the single women are very aggressive and their mothers raise them that way. To get a man you have to get yourself noticed. We are taught to do things to make ourselves the center of attention-and take attention away from other girls. Lady Sandra might not be from Grayson, and she might not be hunting for a mate, but she sure wants to be the center of attention! I think she wants to be the 'Queen Bee' as we'd say on Grayson."

Helen stood and stared for a few moments. "You say you've had run ins with her before?"

"Oh, nothing serious. Last form she tried to recruit me into her little clique and when I wasn't interested she turned nasty. She's a Cadet-Sergeant in 'H' company and she's put me through some of that plebe-type hazing a few times. That and some mean remarks like just now. It's not important, Helen, that sort of thing my upbringing taught me to deal with!"

"Well, I still don't like it," said Helen angrily. "I don't want some stuck-up jerk from another battalion harassing any of my people. I'm on pretty good terms with Cadet-Major Miller of Third Battalion. Let me know if this happens again. I'll have a word with Miller and he'll tear Lady Sandra a new exhaust port!"

"Spoken like a true leader!" laughed Anny.

Helen elbowed her in the ribs and they headed for the dorm.

Chapter Ten

"Battle armor is the most powerful set of personal combat equipment in our arsenal," said Marine Sergeant Donna Lakner. "It is proof against a variety of small arms, it can give variable protection against heavier fire, and anyone wearing it is gonna be one tough sonovabitch!"

Anny Payne was standing behind a thick sheet of armorplast with a squad of cadets that included Alby Hinsworth. The marine sergeant was their combat instructor and she was pointing out the features of the suit of battle armor that was on the other side of the viewport. Several other squads were there as well.

"Nice set of duds if you don't mind looking like a gorilla," whispered Alby.

"Alby! Pay attention!" whispered Anny back at him. "What's a gorilla?"

"A suit of battle armor, without weapons, ammo or a person inside masses about two hundred kilos," continued Lakner. "In order for a person to move a load like that, the suits have powered servos to operate like muscles. The servos give the wearer tremendous strength."

On cue, the marine in the armor picked up a heavy metal bar and effortlessly bent it in half. There was a large bench which had a number of weapons arrayed on it; the marine went over and picked it up with one hand. Anny watched the display with great interest. The cadets were not going to be given instruction in the use of battle armor, but they were being made familiar with every piece of equipment they might encounter in active service.

"Modern weaponry is extremely destructive. If you will come down this way, you can get a look at some of the effects from close-up."

The sergeant led them to the other end of the armorplast-enclosed firing range. It was about fifty meters long, and at the far end were a number of targets. Two man-sized dummies wearing fatigues stood there along with two wearing body armor. At the end of the row was an old suit of battered and much-patched battle armor.

"These mannequins have the same density and strength as a human body so you can observe what the weapons would do to a living target," said Lakner. "First we'll see the Mark II. Flechette Gun."

The battle armored marine at the far end of the range picked up a stubby weapon with a muzzle like an ancient blunderbuss. He aimed it at the first unarmored mannequin. There was faint 'pop' and suddenly the mannequin jerked as several dozen holes appeared in the fatigue clothing. A number of other holes appeared in the soft material at the back of the range.

"The flechette gun fires thirty-six darts with each shot. There is an adjustable choke on the barrel that controls the amount of spread. The velocity of the darts is relatively low, and the effective range is correspondingly short. It is an ideal shipboard weapon. The darts do not have the penetration to seriously damage equipment but they are quite capable of taking down multiple unarmored targets with a single shot."

"However," continued Lakner, "flechettes can rarely penetrate body armor and are useless against battle armor." The marine fired again against a mannequin in the body armor. Holes appeared in the outer fabric covering, but the cadets could not tell if the darts had penetrated any further. The marine shifted his aim and fired against the battle armor. The loud 'crack' of metal against metal could be heard dimly through the armorplast and a number of barely seen objects went bouncing off the suit. Some of them hit the view port in front of the cadets with a louder noise. The battle armor showed a few new scuffmarks, but was otherwise unharmed.

"The most commonly used small arm is the pulse rifle or pulse pistol. These use grav-coils to accelerate 4-millimeter darts to extremely high velocity. Two types of projectiles are available: explosive and non-explosive darts. Each has its advantages and disadvantages. The non-explosive darts will generally incapacitate a person and can penetrate body armor in most cases. They are favored for shipboard use because they reduce collateral damage, and I might add that a person hit by them might actually survive long enough to reach a medic."

The battle armored marine picked up a different weapon and fired at the first target. The cadets heard nothing at all, but the target rocked backwards on its stand as darts tore completely through it and into the backstop.

"I don't think that poor fellow's going to reach a medic," whispered Alby.

"The pulsers are nearly silent," said Sergeant Lakner. "They have no muzzle flash and are thus very hard to located except with sensors that can pick up their power packs. One disadvantage of the non-explosive darts on shipboard is that they tend to ricochet."

The marine fired another burst at the suit of battle armor. Darts whined and pinged off the armor loudly, some of them making noticeable sparks where they struck. The deflected projectiles flew off in all directions, some hitting the armorplast. A few even hit the other mannequins.

"Like the flechettes, the pulsers are usually ineffective against targets in battle armor. Now watch the explosive darts."

The marines adjusted his weapon and then fired at the second unarmored mannequin. It suddenly blew apart in a spray of plastic and shredded clothing. There was a sound like a string of firecrackers going off and fist-sized holes were ripped in the backstop by the darts that missed their target.

"Yuck!" said Alby loudly. From the waist up the mannequin was gone.

"As nasty as the explosive darts seem," said Lakner, "They won't generally get through body armor and are useless against battle armor."

The marine shifted his fire and a mannequin in body armor jerked violently as small explosions erupted on the armor it was wearing. Sizable holes were torn in the outer covering, but the mannequin did not explode like the previous one. The marine shifted again and a dozen bright flashes speckled the battle armor. A lot of new scuffmarks appeared on the suit, but nothing penetrated.

One of the cadets raised her hand. "Since the explosive darts won't take out armored targets, and do such horrible things to unarmored ones, you'd think they'd be banned just on humanitarian grounds," she said.

"Well, that's not really my department," said Lakner, "but I think there have been some attempts to do that. Unfortunately, it is kind of pointless when you consider the other weapons you see on the battlefield. Bob, show 'em the tri-barrel." Lakner's last comment was into her com and the marine in battle armor went to the table and picked up a much larger weapon.

"The Mark IV Tri-barrel is a heavier version of the pulse rifle. It works on the same principle but with larger darts, higher muzzle velocity and a higher rate of fire. Even without explosive darts, its effects are pretty devastating."

The marine swung the heavy weapon in a small arc and an invisible buzz saw cut through the remaining mannequins. All three of them were torn in half with bits of plastic, clothing and body armor flying in all directions. Ricocheting darts sparked off the battle armor or cracked against the armorplast viewport. Some of the cadets cringed back.

"Good God!" muttered one of the cadets as they looked at the remains of the mannequins lying about the floor of the firing range. Anny felt slightly sick.

The marine then directed his deadly spray against the battle armor and hundreds of sparks appeared on its surface and the noise became uncomfortably loud even through the thick armorplast. When the fire stopped, the battle armor had had most of its paint stripped off, but it did not appear to be damaged otherwise.

"Sustained Tri-barrel fire will sometimes take out a man in battle armor," said Lakner. "With that many darts flying around, some will probably hit the weaker joints in the suit. At the very least it will wreck most of the exterior sensors and other equipment. Even so, battle armor is incredibly tough."

Alby stepped forward. "So what do you suggest we do if we encounter an enemy in one of these monkey suits, Sergeant?"

"Hehehe," chuckled Lakner. It seemed a strange sound to be coming out of this tough looking soldier. "Your best bet would to be run like hell. If that option is not available, well, battle armor is not invulnerable. Heavier vehicle mounted weapons can take it out with no problem-assuming the guy in the armor is willing to stick around and get hit. Some of the man-portable grenade and missile launchers can do a job on it too. Of the weapons you are likely to have at your disposal, the plasma carbine is probably best. Bob, show 'em the plasma-carb."

The marine picked up a short, stocky weapon and pointed it at the battered set of battle armor. Without warning, a shaft of dazzlingly bright light leapt between the muzzle of the weapon and the chest of the target. A violent explosion blasted out from where the beam struck. Even behind the thick armorplast the shot sounded like a thunderbolt. Anny blinked her eyes and could still see a purple after-image. She looked at the suit of battle armor and was amazed to see a hole about ten centimeters in diameter in the breastplate. The edges glowed a dull red, which quickly faded.

"Wow!" Anny gasped and her sentiments were echoed by most of the cadets.

"Plasma weaponry is your best bet against battle armor," said Lakner. "A heavy plasma gun can punch a hole through a suit at a couple of kilometers, but that weapon is too heavy for anything but a vehicle-or another suit of battle armor to carry. For you guys, the plasma carbine is about it. Unfortunately it is a power hog and the energy cell only is good for about a dozen shots. There is a low power setting for use on unarmored targets that will give you about twice as many shots. Also, the range is severely limited. The beam spreads very quickly. What you saw here was at fifty meters. At a hundred meters that shot probably would not have penetrated. At two hundred meters it would have hardly scorched the paint."

"That concludes the demonstration," continued Lakner. "Now we can get you folks into some protective gear and let you try out some of this stuff on the target range."

[Scene Break]

Anny carefully lined up the target in her sights and squeezed the trigger. A plasma bolt shot from the muzzle of the carbine and her target exploded into fragments. The protective goggles she was wearing kept her from being dazzled and her ear protection muffled the report to a comfortable level.

Wow! That's neat! thought Anny to herself.

"Okay, Miss, that's it. Good job," said the instructor. Anny's helmet was set up with a com system that let her hear the marine's words despite the din around her.

Anny got to her feet, still feeling awkward in the body armor she was wearing. She handed the carbine to the instructor and stepped back behind the firing line. The Academy's Combat Range was in a small valley on the north side of Saganami Island. It was situated so that any stray shots would either hit the cliff face to the south or land in the ocean. Over the last hour Anny was given the chance to fire all the weapons that had been demonstrated earlier. The flechette gun and the pulsers had been okay, and the tri-barrel was downright scary, but Anny found she really liked the plasma carbine. It was odd: she had no great liking for firearms, but there was something about the plasma carbine. The feel of tremendous power under control reminded her of the Javelin trainers. It just felt right somehow.

Anny looked on as the rest of her squad finished up. There were several other squads also on the range and the steady barrage against the targets made her glad of her ear protection. As she watched, a new batch of cadets arrived, ready to take her squad's place as soon as they were done. This was the second time Anny had been here. The first time she had only used the pulse rifle. Combat training at the Academy had been reduced to just one session each form. Cadets were no longer given ratings on each weapon as they had been in the past. They were simply noted as being 'proficient' or non-proficient'. Anny was a little sorry about that, she had looked forward to earning a few marksmanship medals. Probably the only kind I'll ever get. It was not even a course that you had to pass-no one was going to flunk out because they couldn't hit the broad side of a barn.

Which was fortunate for Alby. Anny watched as he blew a chunk out of the ground twenty meters short of the target with a plasma bolt. Sergeant Lakner was standing behind him.

"Mr. Hinsworth, you'll have better luck if you keep your eyes open when you fire," she said.

"Thanks for the tip, Sarge," said Alby who then sent another bolt completely over the target, over the ridge behind it and headed for parts unknown.

"Hope there aren't any training flights over that way today," said Alby.

"They've been warned that you are on the range, Mr. Hinsworth," said Lakner patiently. "All training flights are grounded until you are done-which you are."

"Right, Sarge!" said Alby. He got up and handed her the weapon and then waddled over to Anny. Alby had not grown much since he came to the Academy and the body armor he was wearing was far too large for him.

"Are we done yet?" said Alby after turning off his com. The microphones in Anny's headset picked up his words while still filtering out the background noise. "I say leave this sort of fun and games to the jarheads who enjoy it."

Before Anny could tell him to be quiet, Sergeant Lakner addressed the squad.

"All right, people, we're not done yet. We still have the Skirmish Course and then the unarmed combat training."

Alby groaned. "Well, it could be worse, I guess. Thank God Granny Givens wasn't a marine!"

[Scene Break]

"C'mon, Anny! Hit me, willya?" shouted Alby. Anny swung at him and he ducked aside.

Anny stepped back and shook the sweat out of her eyes. While she was doing so, Alby darted in and punched her in the ribs-hard.

"Ow!" cried Anny, "That wasn't fair!"

"Nope, sure wasn't," said Alby with a grin.

Anny stepped back further and glared at Alby. She was wearing a padded training suit and helmet and their fists were padded, too, but she was sure she would have bruises tomorrow. She did not like this part of the training at all. The Skirmish Course had been fine. It consisted of a trip through a mock-up of a ship's interior filled with holographic targets. Anny had managed to hit most of the targets (although two of them had turned out to be friendlies) and only got 'killed' herself three times. It was about an average performance for a newbie according to Lakner. Sergeant Lakner had no words to describe Alby's performance.

Now they were doing unarmed combat and Anny was chagrined that Alby was much better at it than she was.

Anny closed in on Alby. He danced around, they grappled briefly and then Anny found herself sitting on the mats with Alby standing over her. She tried to grab his leg but he jumped aside. She looked up and Sergeant Lakner was there.

"Ms. Payne, in unarmed combat you cannot hesitate. If you strike a blow, you have to strike it! Not think about it, not toy with the idea of striking a blow, you have to do it. Do it fast, do it hard and don't worry about it."

"Yes, Sergeant," said Anny getting to her feet.

"Yeah, Anny," said Alby, "you hit like a girl!" Alby glanced at Lakner sheepishly. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you," he added.

Lakner made a few more suggestions and then moved on. The cadets were not being trained in any particular form of the martial arts. They were basically being taught how to dish out punishment-and take it-without the usual cringe reflex that most people have. Anny was having a tough time of it. Some people, like Helen, enjoyed this sort of thing and could take advanced training if they wished. Anny hated it and would be glad when it was behind her for good.

Alby moved in on her again and landed a solid blow to the side of her head.

"Alby! I'm starting to get mad!" said Anny.

"Good! Maybe that's what it takes to make you fight!"

They closed on each other and grappled. Anny tried to take Alby down, but in spite of the fact that she was bigger and heavier, she could not do it.

"Maybe you should pretend I'm that bitch, Sandra Bennett," said Alby.

A moment later Alby was flying through the air to land on the mats with a satisfying 'thud'.

"Much better, Ms. Payne!" called Sergeant Lakner who had been watching from a distance.

"Oof!" said Alby from his prone position on the mats. "I didn't mean to get you that angry!"

"Well, you better just watch out, Mr. Hinsworth!" said Anny with a big grin.

"Okay, I will," said Alby rolling to his feet. "Let's try that one again!"

A bit later, Anny was in the locker room mopping sweat off her forehead. As much as she hated the unarmed combat training, she hated this even more. In spite of ten years on Manticore, she could not get used to the idea of unisex bathrooms, locker and shower facilities. She had known they existed but she had managed to avoid having to use them. The embassy compound was built along traditional Grayson lines and when outside of there, a little searching could usually find single-user facilities that she could lock herself into. The schools she had attended were exclusive enough that facilities were set aside for her private use.

But that was not the case at the Academy.

Patric, Helen and Alby had been very careful around her after the one time with Patric. They had never actually said anything to her after that, but she was grateful for their consideration. It had been a little more difficult when they were doubled up in the dorm, but she had managed then, too. Unfortunately, there was no avoiding times like this. She had another class shortly and there was no time to go back to the dorm and shower. She could not go to class all sweaty and smelly so she had no choice but to use the shower here.

Anny sat on a bench in the corner of the locker room with her back to the swarm of naked or nearly naked cadets that were bustling about. She was in her underwear with a towel draped over her shoulders. She was steeling herself for what she had to do, and she was planning her moves as carefully as Helen Zilwicki in a tactical simulator.

When she decided she could not wait any longer, she stood up, pulled off the last of her clothing and quickly walked to the showers. The towel was draped around her as well as she could manage, but it was not nearly big enough. She kept her eyes on the floor and tried not to attract anyone's attention. I'm being so stupid! No one's interested in what I look like! I'm just one of a hundred people here! She told herself the same thing every time, but it never made any difference.

Anny went into the shower. There were still a few people in there and she knew that more would be arriving as each squad finished up with its exercises. She went over to a corner shower and started washing as rapidly as she could. She kept the towel on and it was quickly soaked. It was not actually doing much to protect her modesty at this point, but it was more for Anny's peace of mind than anything else.

Then, something seized the towel and pulled it away.

"Excuse me, cadet, do you mind if I borrow your towel?" said a familiar-and hated-voice.

Anny froze. The spray from the shower continued to wash over her, but she did not move a muscle. Sandra Bennett! Of all the luck!

"Cadet, I asked you a question! Turn around when I'm speaking to you!"

Anny still did not move. Bennett was a cadet-sergeant and for the first time Anny really regretted never having accepted any rank herself. She had to obey a direct order but she couldn't!

"Cadet! About face! That's an order!"

Anny slowly turned around. Bennett was there, along with four or five of her cronies. They were all as naked as Anny, but she felt like she was standing in front of a dress parade with the whole regiment in their mess-dress uniforms staring at her.

"That's better, cadet! But you are at attention! Hands at your sides!" said Bennett with a nasty grin. The others, three boys and two girls, were also smiling evil smiles. A half dozen more cadets were in the shower; they had all stopped what they were doing and were staring at her too. Anny slowly lowered her hands.

"Such bad posture! Stand up straight!"

Anny pulled herself erect and fixed a hate-filled stare on Bennett.

"Shoulders back! Stomach in! Chest out!" commanded Lady Sandra.

"It is out," snickered one of the boys.

"So it is," agreed Bennett.

Anny could see a number of other cadets clustering in the door to the shower room. Alby was there in his underwear with a stricken look on his face. Anny was suddenly as angry as she had ever been in her life.

"Wow, I've never seen anyone blush that far down before!" said one of the girls.

Through clenched teeth Anny said: "Yes, you can borrow my towel, Cadet-Sergeant. May I finish my shower now?"

Bennett put her hand up to her face and tapped a finger on her cheek. "I'm not sure I'm satisfied with your response time, Cadet. Perhaps some close order drill or a few push ups, or maybe..."

"Ahem!"

Bennett and the others turned and Anny's gaze followed theirs. Marine Sergeant Donna Lakner was standing in the door to the shower. She was as naked as the rest of them, but she wore an aura of authority like a suit of battle armor.

"Don't you all have something to do, cadets?" said Lakner in an icy voice.

Bennett and her cronies blanched and quickly moved away. Lakner walked over to Anny.

"You okay, kid?" she asked quietly.

Anny's eyes were still on Sandra Bennett. "Yes, I'm fine, Sergeant," she said. Then she looked at Lakner. "Thank you, Sergeant."

"Don't mention it. I hate bullies and these blue-blooded types can be some of the worst. 'Course their blood ain't really blue when you bust their noses-maybe you should see for yourself sometime."

"Thank you, Sergeant, maybe I will," said Anny.

Chapter Eleven

Flight Leader Andreanne Payne walked across the taxiway toward her Javelin Advanced Trainer. The seven other ships of Alpha Flight were lined up beyond hers. Further down the flight line another eight Javelins were standing ready for Helen Zilwicki's Beta Flight. Anny came up to her aircraft and walked around it, looking it over carefully. She trusted her ground crew, but she liked to make sure of things herself.

"Well, good morning, Ms. Payne!" said a voice. "Beautiful day for flying, isn't it?"

Anny looked behind her and saw Chief Jon Seaton. She smiled. She had met the elderly Chief Petty Officer on several prior occasions. She knew that Patric and he were close friends and she liked him, too.

"Good morning, Chief," she said in reply. "Yes, it is, but then almost any day is a good day to fly."

"Can't argue with that," said Seaton with a chuckle. "When you've got the itch to fly-like you do, it seems-weather does not matter much. Well, just passing by, good luck to you!"

"Thanks, Chief," said Anny and she watched the gray-haired CPO walk down the flight line.

Satisfied with her visual inspection, Anny climbed into the cockpit and ran down her checklist. Everything was fine-it almost always was. She glanced down the line of aircraft. She could see some of her pilots still making their exterior inspections, so she knew she had a few minutes to review her mission.

Two months had passed since Commander Atkinson had named her a flight leader. With Helen's help she had found the confidence to do that job and do it well. She had three other cadets under her command and she had trained with them and worked with them to make them into a smoothly functioning team. Fortunately, her three flightmates had all been very cooperative and had not made any trouble for her. At first they had worked on group fighter tactics. They had fought dozens of mock dogfights with Helen's Beta Flight and other flights as well. Anny's own flying skills had improved, and with more help from Helen, she had learned to use her sensors effectively. Using that deadly combination, Anny had racked up more 'kills' in air to air combat than anyone else currently at the Academy. Interestingly, however, Helen's Beta Flight had the best combined score of any of the flights. Helen's tactical skills were much more critical when dealing with larger groups.

From mock combats, they had progressed to precision formation flying. Anny and her three flightmates had learned to maneuver in a closely spaced group. At first they had done it with their Automatic Collision Avoidance Systems activated, and later with them disabled. After a few weeks, Anny's flight was able to maneuver as if it were one aircraft.

"Alpha Leader, this is Alpha Two, ready for take-off," said a voice in her headset.

"Acknowledged," replied Anny, "Standby."

The other pilots of her flight began to report in, one by one.

"Alpha Leader, this is Alpha Five, ready for take-off." The last pilot reported in and Anny frowned. The voice had nearly been a sneer and she had no doubt why. Its owner was Archibald Lansdorff and he was one of Sandra Bennett's pals. Until a week ago, Lansdorff had led his own flight and Anny had to admit he was a pretty good pilot. But now their training had proceeded to flying in larger formations. Lansdorff's flight had been combined with Anny's and she had been made the combined flight leader. Lansdorff had made no secret of the scorn he felt for her.

"Acknowledged, Alpha Five, standby," she said tonelessly.

"Saganami Control, this is Alpha Flight, requesting permission for take-off," said Anny into her com.

"Alpha Flight, stand-bye for a change in flight plan," replied the control tower. Anny was suddenly alert: this had not happened before. She waited a few moments and then they called her again.

"Alpha Flight, uploading new flight plan now. Alpha Leader, you are advised that changing weather conditions have caused your exercise area to be relocated."

"Saganami Control, please advise on new weather conditions," requested Anny. The information she had gotten earlier had not indicated anything unusual.

"Ms. Payne, this is Commander Atkinson. It's nothing to worry about. There's a pretty nasty storm off to the southwest. It wasn't expected in our area until tomorrow morning, but it has picked up speed and should be here by late today. Just to be on the safe side we have relocated your exercise to the north. Your exercise plan is unchanged. Proceed with your mission."

"Roger, Commander," said Anny. She was relieved. It was late summer in this part of Manticore and some pretty good storms could develop in the Southern Ocean, sometimes even hurricanes. It was rare for a big storm to come into Silver Gulf, but they did get some heavy squalls at this time of year. The Javelins were nearly impervious to weather effects and they did most of their flying above the weather anyway, but why mess around with a storm if you did not have to? There were thousands of square kilometers of empty ocean to practice over to the north of Saganami Island.

"Alpha Leader, upload is complete, you are clear to taxi."

"Roger, Saganami Control. Alpha Leader to Alpha Flight, proceed to take-off positions," said Anny.

A few minutes later they were in the air and heading north.

It only took them about ten minutes to reach their exercise area, but that was plenty of time for Anny to get nervous. Their mission called for them to form an atmospheric version of the Wall of Battle that was used in space combat. The Javelins would be put in a rigid formation and then be expected to maneuver in unison. In an adjacent exercise area Helen would be doing the same thing with her flight. When Commander Atkinson was satisfied with their exercises, she would allow the two flights to 'engage' each other.

Anny had been puzzled for a number of months over the purpose of all the flight exercises. She certainly was not complaining about it since she loved to fly so much, but she had to admit that the skills she was learning were of limited use once she was sent up to the Fleet. The Navy did have small craft and sometimes they were used in atmospheres and sometimes even in the support of ground troops, but air to air combat such as she had been practicing was extremely rare. Certainly she was learning valuable lessons in tactics-and leadership-but it still seemed a strange use of their time.

The wall of battle exercises were even more puzzling. Aircraft just did not handle like spacecraft. The controls, the maneuvers and the skills were not the same at all. If they were trying to teach them to pilot capital ships, they could do it much more realistically in the simulators. Anny had asked Commander Atkinson about it. Atkinson's answer had been cryptic and rather evasive. That was not like the Commander and Anny realized that probably meant that she was expected to figure out the reason herself. So she did. A little research had given her the answer.

There was one thing that the simulators could not simulate. One element that no matter how realistic they were, would still be missing.

The danger.

The Navy unofficially called it "Simulator Safety Syndrome". They had found out the hard way that it was possible to make the simulators so realistic that they were indistinguishable from reality. And when the simulations became reality, the officers had a hard time adjusting to the fact that it was real and that their mistakes could cost lives instead of points on their grade scores. For a period before the war, the Academy had cut back on flight training and relied almost exclusively on simulators. There was an alarming increase in serious accidents once these officers got to the Fleet. It took a while to figure out the reason, but once they did, flight training was reinstituted.

The Javelins were still extremely safe, but every pilot knew that once you were up there, screaming along at twelve hundred KPH with your ACAS switched off, you could easily kill yourself with a dumb mistake.

A thing like that tended to focus the mind wonderfully.

As a result, Anny was worried. This was the first time she had worked with eight aircraft. This was the first time she had worked with four of the pilots. And one of those pilots hated her.

"Alpha Flight, this is Alpha Leader, time to form the wall. Alpha Two and Alpha Three form on me, fifty meter separation, the rest of you stand by," said Anny. The two pilots she named acknowledged and closed in to overtake her.

"C'mon, Alpha Leader," said a voice Anny recognized as Archie Lansdorff, "we all know our spots, why waste time?"

"We can all wait our turn, Alpha Five," replied Anny, trying not to let her irritation into her voice. Not up here ten minutes and he's already challenging my authority!

Alpha Two moved directly in front of Anny's plane and Alpha Three did the same thing with Alpha Two.

"Alpha Four and Five take your positions," said Anny.

Alpha Four acknowledged and moved into a position fifty meters above Anny's plane and about twenty-five meters in front. Alpha Five did not bother to acknowledge the order, but he took his proper position fifty meters ahead of Alpha Four.

"Very good," said Anny, "Alpha Six, Seven and Eight, form the top of the wall."

The remaining three planes formed another line fifty meters above the second line. The wall was now formed: A row of three Javelins, above a row of two, above another row of three. It was the same formation a single battle squadron would have adopted in deep space, although Alpha Flight would have fit comfortably in the boat bay of a single superdreadnought. Anny was the last plane in the bottom row where she could see the whole formation.

"All right, Alpha Flight, come port thirty degrees," ordered Anny.

The wall turned smoothly to the left. Anny watched the formation carefully both visually and on her sensors.

"Very good, now thirty degrees back to starboard."

For the next fifteen minutes Anny ran them through a series of course and altitude changes. They did it very well, although with the ACAS still active the challenge-and the danger-was much reduced. After that, they practiced rolling their craft on their sides and performing the same maneuvers again. Finally, it was time for the main event. Anny swallowed nervously and spoke into her com.

"Alpha Flight, this is Alpha Leader. Good work, people. I am now going to deactivate the ACAS and we'll do it for real. Remember, fifty-meter separations. All right, here we go."

Anny flipped a switch on her control panel and the Automatic Collision Avoidance System was deactivated in all of the Javelins. There was a little bit of nervous jostling in the formation now that there was no computer making sure they did not run into each other. But that's the whole idea isn't it? To make us nervous.

"Steady, people," said Anny. "Okay, same as before, come port thirty degrees."

It was not quite as pretty as the first time, but they did it with no problem. Anny started them through the identical series of maneuvers they had started with.

"Hey Leader," said Alpha Five after a few minutes, "we can do this in our sleep, let's get on to the hard stuff!"

Anny gritted her teeth. With one of her regular flightmates she would have taken the comment as enthusiastic banter-but one of her regular flightmates would have never said such a thing to begin with. Coming from Lansdorff it was like a slap in the face. She controlled her voice carefully when she responded.

"We will continue with the scheduled maneuvers. Cut the chatter Alpha Five."

"Oh yes, ma'am, wouldn't want to distract you!"

Anny ignored him and ordered another course change. For a few more minutes they went on with the routine. Then Anny noticed that Alpha Five was closing in on Alpha Eight from below. His separation was down to less than thirty meters.

"Alpha Five, you are too close to Alpha Eight," she said into the com. "Separation distance is fifty meters."

Lansdorff said nothing, but he backed off to the correct distance. A few minutes later he was closing in again. Anny was getting more irritated.

"Mr. Lansdorff, you are too close to Alpha Eight," she said and her annoyance was plain in her voice.

"C'mon, Leader, we've got to learn this sooner or later. Those of us who aren't afraid to do it should be allowed to!"

It was true that as they progressed in their training the distance would be cut down step by step until finally it was only twenty meters. But that was not supposed to happen until they were all ready! Anny was furious.

"Mr. Lansdorff! The separation distance is fifty meters!"

"Okay, okay!" said Lansdorff and he backed off again.

A few more minutes passed and they were nearing the end of the first routine. Then they could try doing this rolled on their sides. Anny was correcting the position of Alpha Seven when she saw that Alpha Five was less than twenty meters from Alpha Eight.

All right, that does it! I'm going to let him have it! thought Anny.

"Mr. Lansdorff!" she began.

But that was when it happened.

Alpha Eight hit a patch of turbulence and bounced downward a few meters just as Alpha Five moved up a bit more. Archie Lansdorff suddenly realized he was far too close and jerked his craft sharply downwards. Unfortunately, Alpha Three had obediently closed up to fifty meters from Alpha Five. When Lansdorff saw that he was coming down on top of Alpha Three he over-corrected and shot upwards again. The nose of his plane clipped Alpha Eight and sheared off part of its horizontal stabilizer-just as Anny Payne slapped her hand down on the switch that reactivated the Automatic Collision Avoidance System.

Alarms sounded in all eight cockpits and computers started trying to sort out the mess that they were suddenly presented with. Unfortunately, it could not be done. Alpha Five and Eight were already spinning out of control. Alpha Seven joined them when the piece knocked from Alpha Eight tore off part of Alpha Seven's tail. Alpha Six and Alpha Four also spun away wildly to avoid the disaster looming in front of them. The computers coldly and dispassionately analyzed the situation, briefly conferred with each other and then acted.

Alpha Four, Five, Six, Seven and Eight rolled to angles the computers had chosen and activated their escape pods. The cockpit sections rocketed away on thrusters and then activated their countergravity units. The aircraft themselves immediately cut their turbines, opened their flaps and also turned on their CG generators. The other three planes of Alpha Flight veered off on courses that would take them clear of all the flying pieces. A chorus of screams, shouts and curses filled the com.

Anny pulled her Javelin into a tight turn and circled around the remains of her flight. She looked on in numb horror as the pieces of five aircraft slowly floated seaward. Without power and under countergravity, the planes and the escape pods quickly decelerated, even in the thin air they had been flying in. Anny called up the bio-readouts on all of her pilots and took a deep breath when she saw that except for very high heart rates, all her pilots were unharmed. Someone was calling her on the com but she had to force herself to pay attention to it.

"Alpha Leader! Alpha Leader! this is Saganami Control! What the hell is going on!"

Anny began to shake. This had been her fault. Alpha Flight was virtually wiped out-and it was her fault!

"Saganami Control, this is Alpha Leader," she said in a daze, "I am declaring a Mayday. I repeat: Mayday, Mayday, Mayday..."

Chapter Twelve

Cadet Andrianne Payne stood rigidly in front of Commandant Thayer's desk and tried to keep from trembling. This can't be happening to me! It's all a nightmare and I'll wake up soon! But she knew it was not a nightmare. Admiral Thayer was in her powerchair behind her desk. Commander Margaret Atkinson was standing to one side. Both of them were staring at Anny intently and their expressions were hard.

It was six hours since Alpha flight had met with disaster. All of the pilots, escape pods, and pieces of the aircraft that could be found had been collected and returned safely to Saganami Island. Anny had spent that time being debriefed and then waiting nervously to appear before Thayer. She knew she was in serious trouble.

"Cadet Andreanne Payne," said Thayer at last. "I have reviewed the data from your training flight and conferred with Commander Atkinson. I have just one question for you: Who was to blame for the accident that occurred this morning?"

Anny began to shake. Archibald Lansdorff was the one who had collided with Alpha Eight. Lansdorff was the one who had ignored Anny's repeated warnings about his distance. Lansdorff was the one who had continually flaunted her authority.

But it was not Archie Lansdorff who was to blame. Anny knew it, and she was sure that Thayer knew it. Anny swallowed twice before she could get her voice to work.

"I...I am, Admiral, it was my fault."

Thayer seemed to relax and lean back slightly in her chair. Her expression softened the tiniest bit.

"I am very, very glad to hear you say that, Cadet," Thayer sighed. Then she suddenly slammed her hand down on her desk. "Because if you had given me any other answer I would have had you off this island so fast it would make your head spin! Political consequences be damned!" Anny flinched at the sudden harshness in Thayer's voice.

"What happened this morning was extremely serious, Cadet," said Thayer in a more even tone. "But it could have been worse. We will have to convene a Safety Evaluation Board to go over what happened and you will be questioned again. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries and I believe that all of the aircraft are repairable. That is correct, isn't it, Commander?"

"Yes, Admiral, we may have to get a bit creative about our spare parts expenditure report, but we should be able to get all five ships operational again using our own resources," answered Atkinson.

"That is good," said Thayer. "If there had been serious injuries-or loss of life-or if any of the aircraft had been destroyed, we would have no choice but to convene an official inquest. Such an inquest would have landed you in some very hot water, Cadet."

Anny said nothing-there was nothing for her to say.

"Admiral," said Commander Atkinson hesitantly, "I have to tell you that Cadet Payne has done some excellent work in the past. It is possible I was expecting too much from her. I may have pushed her too hard."

Thayer looked at the Commander for a moment. "Yes, I'll keep that in mind, Maggie. Thank you, Commander. That's all for now; I need to talk with Ms. Payne alone."

"Yes, ma'am," said Atkinson. She saluted and left the office. She gave Anny a tiny nod as she went by, and then shut the door after her.

Anny continued to stand at attention. Her knees felt week. She wished she could sit down. Thayer stared at her for so long without saying anything that Anny was afraid she was going to fall to the floor.

"It's not fair, is it?" said Thayer at last.

"M-Ma'am?"

"I said it's not fair. Lansdorff was a fool. If anyone else had been flying in his position you would have completed your exercise without a problem and none of this would have happened." Anny said nothing; Thayer's change of tone and direction completely confused her.

"But unfortunately, he was there and he was a fool. It was your job to see that fools did not endanger your command-and you failed."

"Yes, ma'am," said Anny miserably.

"It is easy to second-guess, Ms. Payne, but anyone listening to the recording of Alpha Flight's communications could see that accident coming long before it happened. You had an insubordinate pilot. He did not show you proper respect and he was ignoring his flight instructions. You should have swatted him like a bug, Flight Leader! When you are in command, you have to command! After that first round of backtalk you should have warned him-but you did not. After his first distance violation you should have given him a direct order not to do it again-but you did not. After the second violation you should have aborted the mission, reactivated ACAS and returned to base to place Mr. Lansdorff on report -but you did not. I know, you didn't want a confrontation, you didn't want to cut short the mission-you didn't want to do anything embarrassing. So you didn't do anything-and five of your classmates almost died."

"I know, Admiral, I'm sorry," said Anny.

"I'm sorry too, but sorry isn't good enough in our line of work," said Thayer.

"Ms. Payne, I've looked over your record since coming to Saganami Island," continued Thayer. "For the most part it is very impressive. But there has been a consistent and alarming deficiency when it comes to leadership. When given the opportunity, you have refused to lead. You have deliberately gone out of your way to avoid having to lead. Finally, when leadership was forced upon you, you failed to lead."

Thayer's voice was neither loud nor angry, but her words cut Anny like knives. And everything she said was true.

"Ms. Payne, why did you come to the Academy?" Thayer's question took Anny by surprise. Her mouth opened and shut, but no sound came out.

"No, I don't want an answer," said Thayer after a moment. "I want you to ask yourself that question. Why did you come here? What were you planning to do with your commission when you got it? You have joined the Navy, Ms. Payne, a navy at war. The job of this Academy-my job-is to train leaders. If a cadet graduates who is not able to be a leader, then the Academy-and I-have failed, no matter how skilled or educated, or how good a pilot that cadet might be otherwise."

"I don't know what plans the Admiralty or Grayson might have for you after you graduate, Ms. Payne. Maybe they'll just stick you in a display case and it won't matter that you can't lead. But I have to assume that you will actually go up to the Fleet, actually have men and women under your command, and that worries me. The accident today was not serious enough to kick you out. The political situation won't allow me to ask you to leave. But you have to ask yourself: Why do you want to stay? I can't answer that question, Cadet-but you have to. That's all. You will be informed when you have to appear before the Safety Board. Dismissed."

A little while later Anny was wandering through the gardens south of Gatchall Hall. She walked past the rows of flowering plants without noticing them. She was in shock. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the events of this day. In a daze, she sat down on a bench that looked out on the ocean. There was a dark line of clouds on the southern horizon. The color matched her mood perfectly.

Everything had been going so well. She was feeling really good about Alpha Flight-at least until they merged it with Lansdorff's. Helen was working on getting her an NCO position and she was starting to feel like she really could be an officer. And then this happened.

What am I going to do? She had no answer.

She had liked Admiral Thayer. She remembered how nice and friendly she had been during the dinner at her house. How could she have treated Anny like this? The dressing-down Thayer had given her was worse than anything Anny could think of-except maybe watching the remains of Alpha Flight fluttering towards the sea. Anny knew she wasn't being fair: Thayer was only doing her job. But it hurt-Oh, how it hurt!

Anny hid her face in her hands and she cried.

When the tears stopped, Anny sat and stared at the ocean. The clouds were nearer and the wind was coming up. Does Thayer want me to quit? It sounded like it. She can't kick me out, but she wants me to quit. Even if I go voluntarily, Thayer is bound to come under severe criticism for letting it happen-it could ruin her career. She must know that-so why is she doing this? The answer came like a sentence of doom.

For the good of the Navy! She'd rather ruin her own career than fail in her responsibility! What do I have to compare with that kind of courage? Nothing! The emptiness inside her was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Anny got up from the bench and started walking. She did not want to go back to the dorm, but it looked like rain and her feet carried her there anyway. She walked across the causeway and went into one of the lounges. She flopped down on a sofa and stared at some mindless HD program.

"Anny! I've been looking all over for you!" Anny looked up and there was Helen standing by the sofa. Anny said nothing and turned back to the HD. Helen sat down next to her.

"Anny, are you all right?" asked Helen, her voice was full of concern.

"Fine, just fine," mumbled Anny.

Helen pulled out her compad and typed in a few commands and then spoke into the device. "Patric? Alby? I found her, I'm going to take her into the mess hall and get some food into her. Meet us there."

"Come on, Anny, let's get something to eat," said Helen, tugging on Anny's sleeve.

"Not hungry, Helen," said Anny.

"Well, we're going to eat anyway. Come on now, that's an order."

Anny let Helen pull her to her feet and lead her to the mess hall. With the Academy schedule, meals were served continuously and there were a fair number of people there. Anny numbly filled her tray with food and then followed Helen to an empty table. Slowly she began to eat. The food was tasteless, but Helen forced some coffee on her and she became slightly more alert. After a few minutes Patric and Alby arrived and sat down with them. Anny could not look them in the face.

"Anny, are you all right?" said Patric anxiously. "I heard about the accident. I comm'ed Admiral Thayer's office and they said you left over two hours ago! Where have you been? We were worried!"

Anny just shook her head.

"Anny, I talked to some of the other people in Alpha Flight," said Helen. "They told me what really happened. It wasn't your fault, Anny!"

"I was in command, Helen. If it wasn't my fault, whose fault was it?"

"That asshole Archie Lansdorff comes to mind!" said Alby. There was more anger in Alby's voice than Anny had ever heard from him before.

"You didn't cause that accident! Lansdorff is the one to blame, Anny," insisted Helen.

"I was in command, Helen. Don't try to bullshit me: we both know what that means."

The others were silent. Anny did not know if it was because they knew she was right or if they were shocked at her use of profanity.

"What did Admiral Thayer say, Anny?" asked Helen after a while.

"I don't belong here," said Anny simply.

"What?!" exclaimed all three of the others.

"She actually said that?" asked Helen incredulously.

"No, but that's what she meant-and she's right."

"Anny, that's not true!" said Patric.

"That's crazy!" protested Alby. "You're the best pilot in the Academy - even if you do hit like a girl."

"I'm going to resign. I don't belong here." Anny heard herself saying the words, but it was like someone else was talking.

"Anny, no! You can't do that!" said Patric. The pain in his voice cut through the fog wrapping Anny's brain. I failed him, too!

"Anny, you've had a hard day. You're not in any shape to make a decision like that!" insisted Helen. "We're going to take you up to bed and you are going to get some sleep and we'll talk about this some more in the morning."

The others were starting to pull at her when a well remembered-and much despised-voice interrupted them.

"Well, it's Anny the Ace! I've been meaning to give you my congratulations!" said Sandra Bennett. Anny and the others looked up and there she was a few meters away. She was with her usual friends-except that Archibald Lansdorff was missing-and she had her usual smile of disdain on her face.

"Oh, but I'm forgetting! All those kills were unconfirmed. Too bad! You would have been the Academy's first ace-for the Peeps!"

Helen was on her feet. "Shut up, Bennett! Get out of here!" she snarled.

"Oh, yes ma'am! Yes, Cadet Major Zilwicki! You are always looking out for your people like a good officer should! But watch out for that one!" said Bennett, pointing to Anny. "She just might get you killed someday-the way she almost did with Poor Archie!"

Patric was on his feet. Helen threw aside her chair with a crash. Alby looked on with wide eyes.

Anny was horrified. This can't be happening! There can't be a fight! With Bennett's connections Patric would be kicked out of the Academy! Even Helen's career would be ruined before it started! It's my fault again! This is all my fault!

Without realizing it, Anny was backing away from the table. Her sole thought was to get away. If she were not there, there would be no reason to fight! She collided with someone and there was a protesting voice. She turned and there were a tableful of people all looking at her. She looked around the mess hall and everyone was looking at her.

They all know!

Anny dodged around the table and into one of the aisles. She headed for the exit, walking faster and faster. By the time she reached the doors, she was almost running. As she went through the doors, she heard Patric shout her name.

Out in the lobby she was running. Running to get away. In her panic she did not notice how dark it had gotten outside.

Until she opened the door.

A howling blast of wind struck her in the face. Rain pelted her and a crash of thunder hit her like a physical blow.

The storm!

The storm that Commander Atkinson had warned her about that morning had arrived. As Anny looked out in shock, a huge wave broke against the causeway and sent spray twenty meters into the air. They did not have storms like this back home in Landing. Anny had never been outside even in the milder storms they did have. Her Grayson-bred fear of the outdoors screamed at her to shut the door and get back inside.

Anny turned back toward the lobby. But there were dozens of people looking at her! And Patric and Helen and Alby-and Sandra Bennett were all waiting for her back there! She could not go back in!

Anny Payne turned again and fled into the storm.

Chapter Thirteen

Anny had never imagined anything like this. The wind tugged at her, rain came down in sheets, and the thunder and lightning never stopped. She staggered across the causeway. Another huge wave sent water crashing over her, soaking her to the skin in an instant and half blinding her. If it had not been for the railing, she would have been washed into the sea. The seawater stung her eyes and a voice from her childhood shouted at her to get to a decontamination facility before she was fatally poisoned.

Instead, she kept going and reached the shore. Away from the building, the wind was even stronger. It was still two hours before sunset, but it seemed as black as night to Anny. The lights along the streets and walkways were on, but they could scarcely be seen because of the deluge. She walked for a few hundred meters without any purpose or plan. Something hit the ground next to her. Then another and another. She was hit in the back by something that stung. Hail? She had never seen hail before, but she guessed that was what the icy pellets coming down around her were.

She pulled her beret from under her shoulder epaulet. She wanted to put it on to give her head some protection, but the wind snatched it out of her hands and whirled it away. She was as frightened as she could ever remember being. She turned back toward the dormitory-Nature's fury had overcome all of Anny's lesser fears.

But she could not see the dorm anymore. The wind was from the south and to go back it would be directly in her face. She took a few steps and then gave up. A piece of hail hit her forehead and she cried out. She turned back to the north and let the wind blow her along. There were some buildings in that direction. She could find one and take shelter. A storm like this could not last that long!

Step by step she struggled northward. There should have been buildings—something-this way, but she could not see more than a few meters and she found nothing. After what seemed hours she passed through a line of trees that were whipping wildly in the gale. They seemed to offer a little shelter. Anny got on the other side of them and tried to catch her breath. There was so much rain coming down it was hard to breathe...

Something heavy hit her without warning and knocked her sprawling. She struck her knee on a hard surface and then she was face down in the wet grass. There was something on her! She screamed and tried to push it off her, but claws seemed to scratch at her hands and face. She fought frantically for a few moments before she realized that it was a tree branch. A large branch had been torn off one of the trees and knocked her down. With some more scratches she managed to pull herself out from under it.

She stood there gasping and dazed. Suddenly the night was ripped away by a blinding flash of light. Lightning struck one of the trees and the concussion almost knocked Anny down again. Blinded and ears ringing, Anny turned away from the trees and stumbled onwards. She could not find the paved path so she slogged through the grass and mud.

She was climbing a hill. The wind seemed to be lifting her up it. A dim recess in her mind warned her about the cliffs on the north side of the island. She struggled onward. She had no plan or purpose anymore, she just kept moving. Her feet led her where they wanted. At times she was crawling on her hands and knees. After a long time she reached the top of the hill. The wind seemed even stronger now. The hail had stopped, but the rain was driven against her with enough force to sting. The lightning flashed again and again. Thunder rang in her ears.

Anny took a few more steps and then halted. A huge black shape reared up in front of her. She took a step back in fright.

Her feet had brought her here-but her feet had betrayed her.

An angry titan towered over her. A demon crouched on its shoulder, ready to spring and rend Anny to bits. Then lightning ripped back the night again, and Anny knew where she was. She had come here often. It had been a place of peace and comfort to her.

But there was no comfort here now.

Commodore Honor Harrington and her treecat looked down on Anny Payne. The eyes that had once gazed out on Silver Gulf now seemed to be looking down on her. Accusing eyes. Eyes filled with contempt. Anny was a worm in the mud at the feet of a colossus.

Anny stood there, chest heaving as she tried to breathe. Tears poured down her cheeks but they were washed away by the rain in an instant. She looked at the image of the person she most admired in the universe and she knew she had to tell her the truth.

"I've failed you, My Lady."

Anny's words were lost in the wind, but they were not meant for mortal ears. As the meaning of what she said sank in, Anny began to sob.

"I've failed you, I've failed everyone. What a fool I was to think that I could do something you had done! That I could do even a tiny fraction of what you had done!"

Despair filled her. All her dreams were in ashes. The world was empty and bare. She thought of the cliffs only a few hundred meters further on.

"What can I do? I've ruined everything. I've failed everyone. You, my father, my family. I've failed Patric and Helen and Alby. I've failed the Academy and Admiral Thayer. I've failed the Protector and Grayson. Everyone!"

"What am I going to do? Oh Sweet Tester, what am I..."

Anny froze.

The common name for the God of Grayson froze her very soul.

She had lived for ten years on Manticore. But Anny Payne had fifty generations of Graysons in her blood. A thousand years of religious teachings were her heritage. She had sat at her father's knee and learned about her God. A stern god, a god who demanded much from His people...

Stark terror struck Anny to the core of her being as she realized the truth-as she realized what she had done.

She had failed her Test!

A moan... a scream... rising to a shriek that matched the wind for a moment was ripped from Anny's lungs.

No sinner of Old Earth, knowing himself damned by his own actions and with visions of hellfire flickering before him, ever knew more misery than Anny Payne did in that moment. She clutched her head in her hands and crumpled to the ground at the foot of the statue. Her soul filled with a blackness darker than the storm that raged around her.

"Anny! Anny!"

Someone was calling her name. It seemed to be coming from a long way off.

"Anny!"

It was louder now.

Strong hands seized her and she was lifted part way off the ground. She was turned around so her face was up. Rain beat on her and a dark shape was crouched over her.

"Anny!"

She blinked, but the rain kept getting in her eyes. Then a flash of lightning revealed the shape.

Patric!

"P-Patric?" she whispered.

"Anny! Anny, are you all right?" he shouted.

"Patric!"

There was life in her again and she clutched at Patric with a sudden desperation. She pulled herself against him. She buried her face against his chest and sobbed wildly. Patric's huge arms wrapped around her, cradling her, sheltering her, protecting her. He rocked her gently back and forth like she was a child. For that moment she was a child. Her mind went blank and she knew nothing more than the gentle arms holding her. Her terror faded and for a few minutes her exhaustion overcame her and she slept in his embrace.

"Anny?"

Someone was calling her again.

She opened her eyes and tried to think of where she was. Her face has pressed against a mass of warm, wet fabric. Someone was holding her, rocking her.

"Anny?"

She pulled away slightly and there was Patric bending over her. She looked around. He was kneeling on the ground and he was holding her halfway on his lap. The rain was much less and the wind was a fraction of what it had been. It was brighter and Anny could see her surroundings clearly. The storm was passing.

"Patric?"

"I'm right here, Anny. Are you all right?"

"Why... why did you come after me?"

"Anny! I was worried about you!" Patric stared at her intently. "Anny, I love you!"

He loves me. Yes, he loves me!

Right now that was the only thing that mattered.

Anny grabbed hold of Patric's uniform and pulled herself up. Her hand went around his neck and she was pressing her lips against his. For an instant he pulled back in surprise and then he was returning her kiss. His strong arms crushed her to him and they kissed with a desperate passion.

Anny melted into his arms. It was so right. So right.

He loves you! an inner voice told her, and you love him! Give it up! Give up this crazy dream! You're no warrior! Give it up! You can be happy with him! He loves you and he'll take care of you. No more decisions. No more trying to be something you can never be! Give it up!

At first that voice was all there was and Anny listened to it eagerly. But then another voice, tiny at first, but growing, demanded her attention.

No! You can't! Don't give in! Fifty generations of your sisters did that! They let men make their decisions for them! They gave up their right to chose! You can't do that too! Don't give in!

For a few moments the two voices warred within her. Then they slowly faded. Neither of them had won, but Anny was herself again. She reluctantly ended her long kiss with Patric and pulled away slightly. She looked into his face. She loved him. Of that she had no more doubts. But a million other doubts flooded back into her. Nothing else had changed. The accident. The talk with Thayer. The decision she faced. She shuddered in Patric's arms.

"I love you, Patric," she said. His arms squeezed her a bit tighter. "But what am I going to do?"

"You can't leave the Academy, Anny," said Patric. His voice was almost pleading.

"I don't want to, but I don't know if I can stay either."

"Anny, everyone makes mistakes," said Patric helplessly.

"In this business, our mistakes cost peoples' lives, Patric," Anny was staring over his shoulder at nothing.

Patric was silent for a while. There was nothing he could possibly say, was there? After a few minutes he held out his hand and opened it. There was a sodden and mud stained lump of fabric in it.

"I found your hat."

It was so ridiculous that Anny actually laughed, although few people would have identified her sputtering croak for what it was.

"Thank you, Patric," she said, picking up the lump with two finger. Then she looked into his eyes. "Thank you, Patric," she whispered.

He lowered his face to hers and their lips met again. It was a long loving kiss that Anny did not want to end, but she was shaking in his arms. Patric pulled back and looked at her.

"You're soaked. I've got to get you back to the room and into some dry clothes," he said.

"We're both soaked, Patric, but I suppose you are right. We can't stay here, can we?" Anny had made no decisions about anything else. One thing at a time.

"Can you walk?" asked Patric, trying to stand her up.

"I think so, but I like leaning on you." Anny's legs felt like rubber, but she knew if she said so, Patric would probably try to carry her.

"Lean all you want. Okay, here we go."

They walked slowly and unsteadily away from the statue and through the line of trees. Even though the day was nearly over, it was actually getting lighter as the storm receded. There was a faint pink glow in the southwestern sky. The evidence of the storm was everywhere. Leaves and branches torn from trees were scattered all about. As they walked down the hill they could see entire trees uprooted in several spots.

"The groundskeepers are going to be busy for a while after this," said Patric.

They reached the bottom of the hill. Anny saw a tree off to her left that had been split by the lightning. She realized that was where she had been earlier. She had missed the path and gone up the hill from there. She shook her head, it seemed like centuries ago.

They crossed over d'Orville Avenue and headed for the dorm. As they walked, they became aware of a clamor of shouting voices. They got closer and Anny could see mobs of cadets running in all directions. They were yelling and whooping and throwing their caps in the air.

"What's going on?" said Patric. "It looks like the last time we beat U of L in a soccer game!"

"I don't know," said Anny. She was still too dazed to handle any new questions.

They stood and watched and after a moment a pair of cadets came dashing in their direction. They would have gone right on by if Patric had not called out to them.

"Hey! Stop! What's going on?"

The pair skidded to a stop in front of them. They had wild expressions on their faces, which briefly turned to puzzlement at the sight of Anny and Patric, dripping wet, mud-spattered, and hanging on to each other.

"You mean you haven't heard!?" gasped one of them.

"Heard what?" asked Patric.

"Harrington!" the pair said in unison. "Honor Harrington! She's alive!"

The world spun around Anny and her legs gave way. She would have fallen if Patric was not holding her.

"Are you crazy?" said Patric in astonishment. "She's dead!"

"No it's true! She's alive!" they insisted. "They just announced it on the HD! She's captured a whole squadron of Peep ships and she's at Trevor's Star!"

It was impossible. It was simply impossible, but suddenly Anny knew it was true. Somehow, she knew it was true.

"But how...?" said Patric. He sounded as dazed as Anny felt.

"I don't know," said one of the cadets, "but the Prime Minister is going to make an announcement in about a half hour."

Anny and Patric just looked at them blankly. When no more questions were forthcoming, the pair of cadets dashed off.

"Huzzah! The Salamander has done it again!" shouted one of them.

Patric looked at Anny and there was a lopsided smile on his face that must have mirrored her own. He looked like he wanted to say something, but what was there to say? Suddenly, they were kissing again. For a few moments they were oblivious to the bedlam around them. Anny felt a strange energy flowing into her. Her legs were steady again and she could stand without Patric's help.

"Come on," said Patric after their kiss ended. "Let's get back to the room and get cleaned up and watch that announcement!"

They started walking again, but after a few steps Anny stopped.

"What's the matter?" asked Patric, looking back at her.

"You go on ahead, Patric. I have to do something."

Patric's expression changed to one of worry. "What do you mean? I don't want to leave you alone again."

"I'm all right now, Patric," said Anny and she smiled at him. "Really. I'll be okay. It will only take a few minutes and I'll meet you back at the room."

"Are you sure...?"

"Yes, I'm sure." She went up on her toes and kissed him briefly. "I'll be fine, I promise. Trust me, okay?"

"Well, all right. But if you don't come back soon, I'll come looking for you again!"

"I'll be back, I promise," laughed Anny. "Don't worry."

Patric slowly let go of her hand and started to walk away. He kept his eyes on her for a few steps. He silently mouthed: "I love you" and Anny did the same back. Finally he turned and walked toward the mob around the dorm. Anny stood and watched him go. He turned around to look at her at least a half dozen times and each time Anny gave him a small wave.

When Patric disappeared in the crowd, Anny turned and headed back the way she had just come.

Her feet carried her up the hill. Faster and faster, until she was nearly running by the time she reached the top. She came through the trees and stood panting in front of the statue. A last few drops of rain were spattering about her. The clouds off to the south were beginning to break up, but there was a solid wall of blackness to the north where the storm was retreating. A steady breeze blew past her. Anny stared at the statue in awe.

How? How did she do it?

Even as she asked the question, Anny suddenly seemed to be given a Second Sight. She knew nothing of Honor Harrington's incredible adventure, but somehow Anny knew how she had miraculously arrived at Trevor's Star.

A sense of wonder filled her and she realized that she had received a gift beyond price. She had been shown one of life's fundamental truths. Something so simple, but so profound, that most people lived their whole lives without ever discovering it. She stood in front of the statue, clutching her beret in both hands, gazing up at the face of the statue that was once again looking out on Silver Gulf.

"You never gave up," said Anny and she was amazed to hear her own voice.

"That's the whole secret, isn't it?"

"It's not a matter of being smart, or strong, or even brave."

"It's just a matter of never quitting. No matter how bad things seem. No matter how hopeless the situation is. Just never, ever, give up."

Tears were pouring down her face as she spoke to the chunk of bronze in front of her. A sudden gust of wind seemed to blow completely through her and she shivered. The wind blew right through her soul and the blackness that had been there was carried away, swirling like invisible vapors, to mix and disappear in the blackness of the fleeing storm. She was renewed-washed clean by the tempest.

As Anny watched, the statue took on a pink glow. The setting sun broke through the tattered clouds and the bronze turned to gold. The glory of it flowed into Anny to fill the void left by the blackness.

At last, Anny Payne knew what she had to do.

She looked down at the lump of fabric in her hands. She carefully smoothed it out and pushed it back into shape. She slowly put it on her head. A drop of water rolled off it to mix with the tears on her cheeks.

Anny drew herself up and came to attention.

Her hand flashed up to her beret in a parade ground salute.

"You never gave up," she said.

Her hand snapped down to her side.

"And neither will I."

Cadet Andreanne Payne faced about and marched back down the hill, shoulders back, head held high.

End of Book Two