Zachary Dixon: Officer Apprentice

Dedication

To: Dr. Richard N. Barnes, Ph.D.

If

If you can keep your wits about you while

others are losing theirs, and blaming you...

The world will be yours and everything in it,

what’s more, you’ll be a man, my son.

-Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

Prologue

Angela Dixon-van der Vort ducked into her father’s study to get away from the clamor of the family, guests, gawkers, and others who had shown up at the house after his funeral, some invited, some not. Tired, she sat heavily at the oak desk with the ancient-style glass top and opened the center drawer. It was filled with miscellaneous personal effects, most of which she was certain her father would characterize as junk. An inspection of the other drawers revealed files, souvenirs, old-style pens, pencils, paper letters, and other items representing the accumulated stuff of a lifetime. A slim drawer located between two larger ones was locked. Looking in the center drawer again, she found a small key that unlocked it. Inside was a faux-leather-bound, printed paper book, with these words embossed in gold on the front cover:

Memoirs of an Officer Apprentice

By Captain Zachary Dixon

She lifted the book from the drawer, holding it in both hands. As she gazed at it, a memory of the last time she had been in this room with her father formed in her mind.

******

All of the guests want to talk to my illustrious father. Are you hiding out in here, Daddy? Angela partially opened the door to his study and poked her head in.

Maybe a little bit, squirt. Come in for a second.

She saw Captain Dixon open a drawer in his desk and place what appeared to be an old-fashioned paper book in it. He closed and locked it, dropping the key in another drawer.

Okay, Daddy, but just for a sec. The natives are restless. I’m the bride after all.

You sure are, kiddo, and a beautiful one at that, he observed as she stepped into the room wearing a robin’s-egg blue, full-length wedding gown. I am so happy for you. I am also so very proud of you for all you have done to get your degree and pursue a career. You inherited your mother’s brains. The law can be an honorable profession when practiced that way as I’m sure you will.

Do you wish I went into space like you, Daddy?

No, but you still might. The new planets are wide open and there is nothing but opportunity. Wherever there are people, they will need lawyers, or some reasonable facsimile thereof. It’s hard to believe that only a century and a half ago, man first set out to establish a self-sustaining settlement off the Earth. Now we have not only filled up this system, we are on planets in two dozen others.

A lot of that happened thanks to you and Grandpa Andy, Angela said. Well, we better get back in there, Dad.

You’re right. Lead on, my dear! As he followed, she noticed that he glanced back at the locked desk containing the book.

******

Relocking the drawer, Angela took the book with her and put it in her room, planning to read it later. That night after everyone left, she read the book—unable to sleep until she finished it a second time, just before dawn.

Memoirs of an Officer Apprentice

By Captain Zachary Dixon

To: Marnie and Angela

Part I

Grand Tour

Chapter I

Early Life and RT Academy

If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear your favors nor your hate.

—Shakespeare, Macbeth

Sheer age qualifies me to write a memoir of my now lost but not forgotten youth, a time when I first dreamed about being a starship captain while still an apprentice aboard the Lodestar. I will address how I came to be on Lodestar in due course, but in the interest of establishing some sort of continuity to this story, I’d better tell you something about my youth and the training I received at Reaction Transport (RT) Academy prior to being assigned to Lodestar.

I grew up in Fort Stockton, Texas, a town that in the olden days was a wild and wooly frontier settlement, but by my time was a pretty sedate tourist destination. The great cattle ranches of Pecos County had become resort ranches and raised cattle only for the very limited and high-end market for what some called real meat. I don’t eat it myself. Why pay a huge premium for the privilege of acquiring a parasite or food poisoning, when a syntho-steak tastes every bit as good, costs a tenth as much, and has none of the risks?

To get on with the story, I was an indifferent student in school—all through school. History, literature, and some science interested me, but even in those subjects I usually studied just enough to get by. I spent most of my time hunting, going to the rifle range, and running cross country in the fall and regular track and field in the spring. I dated a couple of girls, but they were more interested in being serious than I was. My parents’ injunctions to work harder and take school more seriously were wasted on me. Dad had attended the University of Texas at El Paso and was able to use his influence to get them to overlook my mediocre academic performance and let me in based on my qualifications for athletics. Unfortunately, despite my success at sports, my academics continued to be subpar, and at the end of the freshman year, after taking a look at my grades, Dad called me into his study. I knew it was trouble when I saw Mom was there as well.

What are your plans when you flunk out of school? Dad asked, eyebrows raised. Mom stood beside him as he sat in his office chair. She was holding a copy of my transcript.

I passed this semester, I said defensively.

Just barely! Dad laughed. Dean Ramirez called me. We were roommates when I went to El Paso. Remember, Zack, he was the one who got you into the university? He did me a huge favor and I promised him you would knuckle down and do well.

Dad, Mom, none of the stuff there interests me except sports. I want to go to space. I want to go to RT Academy. I’ve been looking at the requirements and I think I can get in because I am a family member.

Zack, Mom said in her most reasonable tone, which was always dangerous. If you can’t cut it at El Paso, what makes you think you could handle RT Academy, even if they let you in?

Their program is based on apprenticeship, learning by doing, rather than academics. I feel like I can do that, I answered, trying to look confident.

Outside of athletics, you have a history of promising big and delivering small, Dad said. This cut deep, probably because it was true. Let me tell you something, son. You have the self-confidence of the ignorant. You are young and strong and do well in the showy stuff that impresses some of the girls and your coaches; but the quiet, studious guys will be running this world thirty years from now and then no one will care how far you put a shot or how fast you ran a race.

Your father’s right, Zack. What would you do on a starship? Any of the officer and crew grades will require better math skills than you have demonstrated. Have you considered the service? You know my family has a history of military service and you might fit in there.

No, Mom, I want to go to space, I insisted.

They looked at each other. Let me check into it, Dad said with a sigh.

******

Admission to the academy is competitive; some of the best people apply for it while only a few make the cut. I got in on what is called a legacy admission, which means on account of what someone who lived before me did. There was one other legacy in our class. His father had been a ship’s captain for Reaction Transport and had died in the line of duty. RT takes care of its own. Ivan Komarov was also an excellent student, a hard worker, and loyal. He would have been an asset to any organization. The legacy just gave him a slight advantage in an already fast field. It did more than that in my case, because unlike Ivan, I really didn’t possess those qualities in any significant amounts. A few days at the academy wiped the snide grin and jaunty, smart-aleck manner that was de rigueur for the Fort Stockton elite right off me. It was tough to maintain an air of casual superiority when you knew that everyone around you was better at almost everything. I said almost everything because there were a couple of areas where I did excel: athletics and practical pistol shooting. Unfortunately, neither of these talents had much application on a starship, although they did have uses in other contexts.

The academy was not like West Point or the other service academies in that its sole purpose was to prepare you for duty on a merchant starship. There was no undergraduate educational program. You were supposed to bring that with you or, if not, complete a prescribed educational program while you worked for RT. Actual instruction in your specialty was provided on-ship. This was consistent with company policy because everyone in RT, even the ground personnel who didn’t attend the academy, went through apprenticeship: on-the-job training.

The academy curriculum consisted of training that allowed you to operate aboard one of RT’s merchantmen without posing too much of a tripping hazard for the crewmembers who were actually running the ship. We did zero-gravity training and extravehicular activity (EVA) in low Earth orbit (LEO), acceleration training in the school centrifuge, physical fitness training, which was one of my strong points, and an elective, which was another strong point for yours truly. In addition to the foregoing fun stuff, we did virtual video studies of every ship in the RT fleet. We learned every doorway, every ladder rung, every nook and every cranny of every blessed one of them. We learned their machinery and how it worked, in the abstract at least. We also learned firsthand that being an apprentice at RT was the most demanding job any of us was ever likely to have.

******

Hi, Ben Lumumba. A slender guy, about my height but a few years older, came into the room where I had just staked out the bottom bunk and offered his hand.

I figured. I pointed to the name badge over his right shirt pocket, noticing that he was from Cape Town, South Africa. I realized my roommate was a very serious guy when I felt the buzzer go off in my palm as we shook hands. Nice buzzer, I commented, trying to stay cool and pretend that it was all pretty routine.

Thanks. I try to keep things moving. Hey, I am afraid of heights. Mind if I take the bottom bunk?

I was just getting comfortable here, I answered, indicating that the subject was open for negotiation.

I’m a little short right now, but how about we swap for a favor to be named later?

Sure, sounds good. I figured it was best to try to start out on the right foot. I’m from Fort Stockton, Texas.

I noticed, he said, pointing at my own badge and laughing.

After you stow your gear, what do you say we look around? I asked.

Sure, just give me a minute.

RT Academy is located several kilometers east of Cody, Wyoming, just past the airport on Greybull Highway. It is open country beyond that. The east portal to Yellowstone National Park is about eighty-five kilometers west of Cody. The airport shuttle had dropped me off at the cadet dormitory where I would be staying for the ground portion of our twenty-six-week training course, so I had had no chance to see any of the rest of the academy.

Spartan was the word that came to mind when I first saw the inside of the rectangular brick dormitory called Smythe Hall. As I checked in with the auto-receptionist at the entrance, I noticed that several computer workstations were scattered around the lobby, all occupied by cadets, none of whom looked up when I entered. No television screens, ubiquitous in all public and most private spaces elsewhere, blared sports, celebrity, and news events here. It was quiet, like a monastery. So when Ben and I stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, I was surprised to see a young man and young woman, obviously cadets themselves, standing in the lobby talking. Never shy when confronted by a pretty girl, I stepped up to them and offered the girl my hand.

Zack Dixon, ma’am, from Fort Stockton, Texas.

Marnie van der Vort, Musina, South Africa, she answered with a blindingly bright smile. A little shorter than me, Marnie had a slim but healthy figure, straight black hair, a prominent nose, even features, and the most striking violet eyes I had ever seen. Her complexion was a bit darker than mine, which, since our family claims Apache blood on my dad’s side and Cherokee blood on my mom’s side, is fairly dark itself. I could have held her hand indefinitely, but courtesy required that I greet her companion.

Ivan Komarov, from Murmansk in Russia, he said with a smile while shaking my hand. Ivan was taller than me, with blond hair, blue eyes, a slim build, and angular features.

During this exchange, I overheard Marnie and Ben speaking to each other in a language that sounded like the Dutch I had heard when I had once visited Holland. They were talking like old friends.

According to my instructions, I said to the group, we are all supposed to report to Konstantinova Hall at 16:00. That’s about two hours from now, which should allow us time to give this place the once-over. I decided not to share with my new friends the fact that the hall was named for my grandmother.

I’m for it, Marnie piped up. The other two nodded in agreement.

Lead on, Zack! Ben gestured toward the lobby door.

Since there were never more than a hundred cadets at the academy at any one time, the place was not large. The multi-story residence hall housed the faculty as well as the cadets and the commandant. The faculty usually chose to live in the residence hall because they rotated in and out regularly. They were all, including the commandant, officers and chiefs in the RT fleet and were selected for temporary duty as academy instructors based on the evaluations of the junior officers who had trained under them aboard ship. Since they worked at the academy permanently, the cooks, custodians, and other maintenance personnel lived in Cody.

It was fall in Cody, so the days were still warm and dry. The walk around the campus was pleasant. The school was laid out like a chessboard, with buildings occupying the squares and the streets and sidewalks running between them. The athletic fields and obstacle course were on the south side, while the shooting range was on the east. Both had open range land beyond them. The west side of campus was bordered by the highway, and the airport bordered the north side. The Rocky Mountains could be seen in all directions except south. It was beautiful.

Let’s take a look at the classrooms, Ben said.

Comisky Hall contained a huge open space with walkways marked with yellow lines on the floor. The walkways led to several areas laid out like the control room of a starship, each one different. In those mock control rooms, cadets were working intently, so intently that they didn’t notice our presence as we walked around the building. None of us said anything until we were outside.

Wow! I said. That isn’t like any school I’ve ever been in.

Same here, Ivan concurred. Marnie and Ben nodded in agreement.

Looks like it is pretty much hands-on learning, Marnie commented, just like it said in the catalog.

The rest of the classrooms were similarly organized with mock-up versions of various ship’s departments. There were no lecterns or desks in rows to be found anywhere.

This gym is well equipped, I commented when we looked in on the fitness center, which also contained a pool.

You look like you’d know, Marnie responded, surveying me from head to toe. They all three laughed when my face flushed.

Eventually we made our way to the part of the campus that most interested me: the shooting range and obstacle course, both of which we observed from a distance.

That course looks pretty tough, Marnie commented.

Yes, I agreed, although I was sure that it would be a breeze for me. Have you done any shooting?

Yes, she answered. My father is quite a sportsman and taught me to shoot.

Well, I’ve signed up for the shooting class as an elective, I said.

So have I! she said enthusiastically.

I’m a city boy, Ben commented. I’ve never even touched a firearm.

Same here, Ivan said.

Well, I said, pointing toward the center of campus, it is almost time for the meeting.

******

Konstantinova Hall was referred to simply as The Hall and served multiple purposes. It was a dining area, an auditorium, a chapel, and a basketball or indoor tennis court. Like everything at RT Academy, The Hall was a very practical, no-frills building. Tonight, The Hall was set up as a dining room, with rectangular, uncovered folding tables arranged in rows perpendicular to the front of the room. Folding chairs were positioned along each side of the tables. A cafeteria-style spread ran alongside one wall, and although the food was covered, the odors wafted through the room. I was starved and my stomach was growling.

By 16:00 the tables were filled, and Commandant Nguyen, wearing the same gray flight suit that all of us wore, strode to the front of the room. Despite being slight of build and hairless, her authoritative manner made the commandant an imposing figure. The room was instantly silent.

Tonight we are being joined by twenty new cadets, she said with her hands clasped behind her back. When I call your names, I’d like you each to stand so your fellow cadets and the faculty can see you.

She called off the names slowly, allowing plenty of time for everyone to get a good look at each cadet. My turn came near the middle of the list. It was a diverse group. Judging by the names and looks of the cadets, they were from all over the planet, the system, and beyond. When she finished:

Thank you, new cadets. She paused. "Now, we have several cadets with ship assignments.

"Mr. Horace Johnson, assigned to RT Lodestar." She picked up a card from a small table next to her. The cadet named Johnson rose and walked to the front and took the card, shaking the commandant’s hand. She smiled and said a few words to him. He then returned to his seat.

"Ms. Wong Li, assigned to RT Avanti." The procedure was repeated for thirteen more cadets.

After the last of the newly assigned officer apprentices had returned to their seats, the commandant said: We have eight officer apprentices who are now ship’s officers. When I call your name, please step forward. Ms. Cassandra Jabwala. Ms. Jabwala walked to the front of the room. Commandant Nguyen pinned gold bars on the epaulets of her flight suit. When all the former apprentices had been recognized, Commandant Nguyen briefly addressed us all again.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Enjoy your dinner. She sat at one of the tables near the middle of the room. The cadets at the table nearest the cafeteria spread stood and formed a line along it. When our turn came, the four of us lined up with the rest of our table.

What did you think of that? I asked my friends.

I’m impressed, Ben answered, his eyebrows raised.

That pretty much covered it for all of us. The food selection was fairly international. I was famished, so I passed on the more exotic choices and eventually found meat loaf and mashed potatoes. After I placed my order, the robo server filled my plate and I made my way back to our table.

******

"The purpose of this physical training is not to wash anyone out of the program. It is to prepare you for the physical challenges you