Tales from the Academy

Chapter 15

"Squad… halt!" shouted Sergeant Cutlus. Alby gladly obeyed. Today there were several other unlucky cadets walking punishment rounds with him, so the Sergeant did not engage in any casual conversation as he sometimes did. He simply recorded the completion of their punishment and dismissed them. Alby didn't know the other cadets so he headed back toward his barracks alone. He felt numb. Still numb. He'd been numb ever since his grandfather's funeral, a week ago. What in the world was he going to do? He could quit. Any time he wanted he could walk into the Commandant's office and hand in his resignation. No one could stop him. But was that what he wanted to do? It was a one way trip. He wouldn't be given another chance if he changed his mind later.

He'd been shocked at the size of the 'tidy' sum his grandfather had left him. Handled carefully, he could live a comfortable life and never have to lift a finger again. If he did manage to find some sort of job on top of that, he could be very comfortable. So why not? Why not just walk away? The other people in his company had not let up on him, it had gotten worse if anything. Why continue to endure it? Maybe he should…

"Alby?" He twisted around in surprise at the sound of that familiar, feminine voice.

"Anny!" There she was, standing near the entrance to the formal gardens that covered a few acres near the main gate. She was wearing fatigues and she waved him over to her.

"Got a few minutes, Alby? I'd like to talk to you," she said.

"Sure," he replied. "I've got no duty until this evening." He felt a smile forming on his face. Damn, it was good to see her! He followed her into the gardens where they found a bench with some privacy. "What's up?" he asked once they were seated.

"I wanted to say how sorry I was about your grandfather. I really enjoyed talking with him at dinner that time."

"Thanks. But he'd lived a long time. I don't think he was sorry to go at last. But that's not what you want to talk to me about, is it?" He stared into her eyes and surprisingly she blinked and looked away.

"No. I wanted to… Alby, what's wrong? Why are you doing this?" She was looking right at him now and he knew there was no use pretending he didn't know what she meant. His recent 'activities' were the talk of the Academy. Now it was his turn to look away.

"I don't know."

"You weren't the best cadet in C Company when you were there, but you never got into this sort of trouble! It seems like you are deliberately trying to get kicked out of the Academy!"

"Well, since I'm not in C Company anymore why do you even care?"

"Alby!" cried Anny looking hurt. "You're my friend! And even if you're not in my company anymore you're still my comrade. Friends and comrades look out for each other. Help each other. I want to help. It's… it's my duty." Her hands came up as if she wanted to embrace him.

Alby was trembling. Duty. There was nothing he wanted more than to hug Anny and cry on her shoulder. He really needed a shoulder to cry on right now. Instead he turned away. "I don't think you can."

He twitched when she touched his arm. "This is about your… your family, isn't it?"

"I don't have a family!" he said bitterly.

"Yes you do!" said Anny and she forcibly turned him around, gripping both of his shoulders. "We're your family! Me and Jer and Patric! My own family practically disowned me for trying to come here, but I found another! It's pretty much the same with Jer, his leaving Komarr and all. After all we went through together last year you're my brother now, Alby! Family!" Her eyes blazed and the fierce conviction in her face reminded Alby of her determination to win the pentathlon. But after a moment her face softened. "And sometimes being family means having to slap some sense into your brother. Am I gonna have to slap you, Alby?"

His lip was quivering and suddenly he was hugging her, clutching her like a drowning man clutches a floating log. He squeezed his eyes shut and a hot tear squirted out and dripped down his cheek. She returned the hug, gently patting him. Eventually he sniffed and pulled back, an awkward smile on his face. "Slap away, sis." She grinned and softly tapped him on the cheek. "I miss you guys so much," he whispered.

"We miss you, too."

With a realization that came like sunrise, Alby knew that she really meant it. She really did care about him. The others did, too. Family. And in that moment he finally figured out what he wanted, what he needed. To belong. To be a part of something bigger than just himself. The ties that bound him to his parents were just too thin, too distant, too… artificial to ever fill that need. But Anny and Jer and Patric, his ties to them… He remembered working with them to win the pentathlon. He'd never felt so alive, so happy. This is what I want! But…

"I wish I was back in C Company."

"I wish you were, too. But there's nothing we can do about that, Alby. But there's no reason why we can't still get together. We're all taking the same courses this year. There's no rule saying you have to do all your studying with your own company! We can all work together. And frankly, we could use your help. Patric's really struggling with the computer course and no one knows computers better than you."

"I'd… I'd really like that," said Alby. It seemed like a wonderful idea…

"Of course with you spending so much of your 'free' time marching punishment rounds it makes scheduling things a little difficult." Anny smiled and raised an eyebrow.

Alby flinched backwards dramatically, clutching his cheek as if she'd slapped him hard. "Ouch! Okay, okay! I get the message!' They both laughed. "Thanks," he said. She nodded.

"So how are you doing, Anny?" he asked after a while. "Everything okay in C Company? You look tired." Staring at her he realized that she looked very tired. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked more wrung out than she had even during the worst times in their duty-company days last year.

But she just waved it away. "I'm all right. Just all that paperwork being the cadet-captain." They spent a few minutes exchanging some stories but eventually Anny checked the time and stood up. "Got to go. But I'll check with the others and we'll set up a study schedule when we can get together, okay?"

"That'll be great," he said. They walked back toward the barracks together, not saying anything, but Anny's presence was like a balm on a painful wound. Comrades. Friends. Family. That's what the Academy, Imperial Service, had to offer. Not just an inheritance, a big house and a famous name. He'd never thought about it that way before. And in an odd way he realized that his father had been right: the contacts he made here would affect the rest of his life. Father had just been talking about his career, but Alby knew that there was far more to it than that. My friends can give me a life, not just advance my career. He felt better than he had in months… maybe ever.

He got back to his barracks and put his rifle in the rack. Guess I'll be seeing a lot less of you in the future!

[Scene Break]

In the following weeks Alby transformed himself. No more demerits, no more punishment rounds. He even took up Lieutenant Dubrovin's offer to help as an assistant instructor in his computer class. Vorlevey continued to harass him, but he seemed to be so annoyed at Alby's lack of response that it was actually more satisfying than his earlier back-talk had been. He was rewarded evenings and Sunday afternoons by spending time with his friends. The study sessions were fun and he managed to help Patric out of his computer nose-dive. Jer and Anny helped him in the military history course. Vorlevey had tried to interfere, but Anny outranked him and stared him down in one memorable confrontation. It had been beautiful and left Vorlevey fuming and Alby feeling closer to his friends than ever. The other members of his company seemed to be getting bored with tormenting him, especially since Alby was no longer making the rest of them look bad. It was a tolerable situation and Alby began to believe that he could survive and graduate after all. The only dark spot was that Anny seemed even more exhausted. He cornered Jer one time and asked what the problem was. He shook his head and looked worried.

"I've noticed it, too, but she insists it's nothing. But I've been watching her and I think it's the simulator."

"The simulator?"

"Yeah, I think so. She comes out of the pod rubbing her head like she's in pain. It takes her hours to recover. And her performance while we're hooked up is getting worse and worse."

"Damn," said Alby. "If she's having some sort of adverse reaction like some people do…"

"Yeah," said Jer grimly. "It could get her kicked out."

"But it wasn't bothering her at first!" protested Alby. "She loved it as much as anyone! She couldn't wait for the next session!"

"I know. I've asked her to go see the medical people, but… I think she's afraid to. She's just going to try and tough it out, I think."

"Well, she can if anyone can, I guess," said Alby.

"Yeah."

Winterfaire arrived and they were given a week's leave, unlike the previous year. He and Jer went with Anny to Vorkosigan House. Patric went back to South Continent to be with his own family. It was the best Winterfaire ever. Vorkosigan house was packed. The Count and Countess were visiting from Sergyar with most of their impressive retinue. Armsmen, servants and their families filled the place to bursting. Alby and Jer ended up on cots in the attic admist an incredible collection of Vorkosigan artifacts while Anny had a small room she had occupied during her quest to get into the Academy. Alby didn't mind the accommodations at all.

Lady Ekaterin's children, the arms men's and servant's children and the children of the Koudelka clan made for a laughing shrieking… wonderful Winterfaire. Alby used some of his new money to buy gifts for his hosts and his friends. For Jer he arranged for a day of intense riding lessons at Vorbarr Sultana's best stables, reminding him that the next pentathlon wasn't that far off. He and Anny came along, of course, so it was a double gift. He had a top-of-the-line computer pad with lots of instructional software delivered to Patric's home. He pondered long and hard for something for Anny. He owed her so much, what to get her that would have meaning? He almost settled for some ordinary bit of jewelry, but then realized that not only didn't Anny need some bit of useless junk, but that it might be interpreted the wrong way. There were people who would deliberately interpret it the wrong way. Not that he wasn't very fond of her… Eventually he had a jeweler make up a solid gold replica of the pin they were awarded for winning the pentathlon. It wasn't really meant to be worn and it came with a nice little display box. Anny got all teary-eyes and kissed him on the cheek.

The week off seemed to do wonders for Anny. She perked up and the dark circles under her eyes faded. They all stayed up late, but got up even later. Naturally, there was a spectacular Winterfaire dinner and all ninety-six places in the large dining room were used with some spill-over into another room for some of the younger folks. Alby paid special attention to the relationship between the Lord Auditor and his legendary father, Count Aral Vorkosigan. They treated each other almost as equals, but the huge respect the younger Vorkosigan held for the elder was evident. There was love there, too, no doubt about it. Could that have been me and Father? It hardly seemed possible.

One of the dinner guests—and a frequent visitor to Vorkosigan House it appeared—was Major Ivan Vorpatril, the Lord Auditor's cousin and, as he was already aware, his father's military aide. After the feast had ended Vorpatril waved Alby over to him. "Evening, Cadet," he said.

"Good evening, sir."

"Splendid party, isn't it? My coz's lady-wife has outdone herself."

"Yes, sir, it's wonderful."

"I have a message for you from your father."

"Sir?"

"He… uh… asks that you pay him and your mother a visit at your home before you return to the Academy."

"Asks, sir?" Not orders? Not requests and requires?

"That's right. You've got, what, three more days of leave?"

"Yes, sir."

"Should be enough time then."

"I'll… think about it, sir."

"Do that." Vorpatril raised his glass as if in salute and then wandered off to where a pretty young woman—his wife, Alby thought—was chatting with Lady Vorkosigan.

Alby tried not to think about it but the mood had been spoiled. He put it off the next day, but the following day he gave in and made the trip-alone. He could have called the house and had Kurt come and get him, but he didn't want to put his transportation at the mercy of his parents. Instead, he hired a lightlfyer and driver and had him take him to Vorsworth House. The meeting was polite and gifts were exchanged, but the tension couldn't be missed. Alby stayed for dinner but then returned to the city. Vorsworth house had never seemed less like home. He put the whole incident out of his mind and enjoyed his last day of leave with his friends.

[Scene Break]

"Where's Anny?" asked Alby as he took his seat at the study table in the library. The looks on Jer's and Patric's faces brought him to full alert.

"The infirmary," said Patric.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Yesterday in simulator class," said Jer shaking his head. "She nearly passed out. She's been trying to hide it, but this time there was no way she could. Lieutenant Carstairs saw and ordered her to report for testing."

"Damn…" hissed Alby. "I could see it was bothering her again after we got back from the leave, but I'd hoped…"

"Yeah," said Patric. "We all did. But this could be bad. I mean really bad."

"Hell." Alby sat there frowning. "Something's not right here."

"Obviously," said Jer.

"No, I mean something else isn't right. Vorlevey and a couple of the others were talking about it last night…"

"What? Why?" interrupted Jer. "How could they…?"

"It's not exactly a secret, Jer," said Patric. "I've heard some cadets from the other companies talking about it, too. They said… they said it proves that women just aren't meant to be soldiers."

"Yeah," said Alby, "Vorlevey and the others were crowing about it. But then Vorlevey said something else. I didn't pay attention at the time, but thinking about it now…"

"What?" demanded Jer.

"He told one of the others that they hadn't seen anything yet. It was almost like he knew something was going to happen."

"Maybe just wishful thinking on his part," suggested Jer.

"Maybe," admitted Alby. "Still…" He flipped open his computer pad and his fingers started flying.

"What are you doing?"

"Seeing what I can find out about this sort of reaction to the simulator," he replied without looking up. The other two knew enough to leave him alone and he spent the rest of the study period checking medical journals and simulator journals for whatever he could find on the phenomenon. What he found wasn't reassuring. It was called Simulator Rejection Syndrome, SRS. Some people couldn't handle the artificial sensory inputs from the simulators. Their brains were just wired differently. And the percentage of people affected was small enough that little effort had been made to find a solution to it. If Anny's condition continued to get worse she might well be discharged from the Academy.

The next day Anny was back on duty. The medical people had given her some medicine and she claimed that it was helping her. But it was clear that she was still suffering.

"It's gonna hit the fan next week," said Jer to Alby privately a few days later.

"Why?"

"We've got that big tactical exercise, remember?"

"Oh crap, that's right." For the past few months they had been getting infantry combat training in their company groups. But now they were progressing to larger things. Their whole battalion would participate in a large scale maneuver that would last an entire day. The longer Anny spent in the simulator the worse her reaction seemed to be. If she collapsed in the middle of the exercise it would be brought to everyone's attention.

"What the hell can we do?" asked Jer.

"I've been looking at every resource I can find,' said Alby in growing frustration. "The thing that still has me puzzled is that she wasn't affected at first. Every account I've read says that the reaction ought to have been very evident right from the start."

"People are different," shrugged Jer. "And maybe she just concealed it from the start."

"Maybe…"

He continued to work on it even though it made his grades slip a bit and he picked up a few new demerits. But he didn't care. He owed Anny more than he could say. And something was nagging at the back of his brain. His talent for seeing patterns was at work and there was something here that just didn't fit…

There were only two days left before the exercise when he found it. He was skimming through an article in an Escobaran cybernetics journal when he came upon a passage which read: SRS symptoms are nearly identical to those seen when the neural interface of a simulator is improperly calibrated. He stopped and read it again.

"Improperly calibrated…"

[Scene Break]

Alby walked into Lieutenant Dubrovin's office, stopped in front of his desk and saluted. Dubrovin smiled and returned the salute. "You're up bright and early, Alby. Your class isn't until this afternoon. What can I do for you?"

"Morning, sir," he replied. I'd like your help in committing a court martial offense."