Article 23 (7 page)

"Ah, Brother, our shipment has it arrived?"

Justin saw an elderly monk rolling towards them on a power chair through a narrow pathway in the orchard.

"Yes, Brother Abbot, all safe and sound."

"Good, very good."

Bartholomew introduced them. Tanya was awed when the abbot, discovering her lineage, announced that he had been introduced to her great-grandfather when he had visited the old
Soviet Union as a boy.

"
A school group from
Maine
, oh, back let's see
now back in 1986 it was. We went over there and met him at a conference. I'll never forget him. Funny, hope you don't take offense but he looked just like a comedy actor from long ago though the name of the three in that group escapes me."

The abbot laughed. "When you reach my age such things do tend to drift. We were all honored to meet your great-grandfather, just as I'm honored to meet you carrying on the family tradition."

Justin was surprised when Tanya bowed and asked for the monk's blessing. Justin shook his hand and the monk rolled on.

"Well over a hundred and still going strong," Bartholomew announced. "Space is good for folks like him." Justin looked back at a group working in the orchard and noticed that a number of the monks seemed quite old.

"A lot of men, when they reach their later years, they look for
lives
of contemplation," Bartholomew said, as if reading Justin's thoughts.

The monk smiled and looked over at Tanya, who was walking several paces ahead, and then back at the young cadet. "Once you hit eighty some of the distractions of youth are at last behind you."

Justin felt himself blushing, wondering if Bartholomew knew about the inner turmoil she was creating.

"So that's why our orbital monasteries are flourishing.
More than a thousand monks on this one alone.
We have several thousand others living here, too, lay brothers and sisters we call them. They are mostly part of our geriatric care center, which is our service to humanity since we are, after all, a serving brotherhood. Some of our residents were born as far back as 1950 and are still spry and fit. Low gravity is indeed a blessing.

"We lead a simple life prayer, tending our gardens, helping our patients. Our food is plain but there are a few indulgences we do allow."

He stopped and pointed towards a door that was nearly concealed under a rose-covered trellis. As he opened the door a rich heady aroma wafted out.

"Our distillery," Bartholomew announced. "Finest apple brandy in Earth orbit comes out of here. That's what you're carrying, spare parts; we were on our last backup for a few things and getting worried. Old
Thorsson
came through for us though, with this little emergency shipment."

A knot of monks gathered around the group as they came through the door. Eager hands grabbed the canisters carried by Justin and Tanya and the men scurried off, weaving through a line of vats and into a back room.

"Apple brandy, peach brandy,
a
few new concoctions we've cooked up from our tropical blends." Bartholomew led them over to a wooden table and motioned for them to be seated. A monk came up to them, bearing three small glasses and half a dozen flasks.

Bartholomew took one of the metal containers. He uncorked it, sniffed the contents, smiled and
poured'out
three minute samplings.

"Ah, sir, we're on duty and, well, sir," Tanya announced, "I don't think we should."

"Old
Thorsson
said it was all right as long as I didn't get any of you soused before dinner. Thorny and I go back a ways. I was his commander once."

The two looked at him, incredulous.

"Certainly was.
Back aboard the Celestial Beagle on the run to Jupiter.
Not all of us monks are as boring as you might think. Brother Abbot there was an out-and-out United States Marine, fought in three wars.
Flew in the First and
Second
Gulf
Wars.
Old tradition in the church, warriors taking to the cloister late in life.
We're seeing a lot more of that, with so many folks living to be ninety, a hundred or more and still fit and active. Taking vows and coming out here to space has a certain appeal. Like I said, it's an old tradition, not just with us but with the Buddhists as well. I went to visit one of their Zen colonies last year; beautiful place their zero-gravity gardens are a wonder.

"You see, long ago monasteries both East and West were places of retreat, but that's hard to find in the modem world. Out here in space though, well, we have the whole universe to find the solitude and peace we desire as we search for the eternal. As you young cadets finally embark for the stars, the monasteries will not be far behind."

Bartholomew nodded towards the glasses.

"So, anyhow, a cadet's expected to hold
his own
when the occasion arises."

Having tasted brandy before, Justin accepted the glass. He swirled the contents around, sniffing them, then allowed a tiny sample to dance on his tongue.

"Delightful," he exclaimed, "better than grandpa's own stuff that we make on the farm.
" .

Tanya looked at the two hesitantly. Then, not to be outmatched, she downed hers as well, coughing hard after trying to take it all in one gulp.

Bartholomew laughed.

"Just like a Russian," he chortled. "One shot down the hatch."

An hour later the three stepped back out into the hallway.

"Now, you two children know your way back, don't you?"

"Sure, Brother," Justin replied.

"Take care, my friends. It was an honor to entertain you. And be sure to personally deliver that package."

Justin patted the box under his arm and nodded.

"The pleasure was all ours," Justin announced.

Justin waved cheerfully and motioned for Tanya to follow. She shook her head ruefully as she fell in by his side.

"I think you're slightly
potzed
," she said disdainfully.

"Nonsense.
Blood alcohol of point zero two you saw him check us."

"Well, you're certainly no Russian, Justin. Point zero two wouldn't have one of us weaving like you are."

"Hey,
us
Hoosiers invented applejack. Why, Johnny
Appleseed
himself planted our orchard."

"Johnny who?"

"Oh, never mind. Wish I knew what was in this box." Justin held the box up and shook it, then tucked it back under his arm while letting his other arm drift around Tanya's waist.

"That's for Commander
Thorsson
, so don't go playing around with it. And Mr. Bell
watch
that other hand of yours as well."

She reached around and removed Justin's hand from her waist, and with a snort of displeasure motioned for him to speed up his pace.

Justin sighed, not sure if the drinks had indeed gone to his head or if he was simply using them as an excuse to try and put his arm around Tanya. Dutifully he fell in behind her, troubled again by her presence. The situation was made worse by the fact that the monks had opened up the shutters overhead, letting the sunlight stream in on the orchard. It created a strange effect the rotation of the ship caused the sun to rise and set every two minutes so that shadows raced across the ground. Sprinklers set both in the ground and overhead had been turned on and a gentle mist floated in the air, catching the shifting light so that the air seemed to sparkle. The moisture enhanced the ability of the air to carry scent, and every breath was rich with the fragrance of apples and an elusive trace of something that Justin knew was Tanya's perfume.

Without waiting for him she stepped into the corridor leading back to the zero-gravity core, but as she passed the doorway into the cathedral she paused and then stepped in. Justin followed her and was surprised to see her kneeling in the corridor, head bowed in prayer. Ashamed of what he had been thinking, he looked away in confusion. He saw a monk looking over at him, smiling gently, and realized the monk had seen him watching Tanya. The monk shrugged his shoulders, as if in sympathy and understanding. Justin smiled in return at the simple gesture which so eloquently summed up his own confusion.

He soaked in the beauty of the cathedral in space and the peace it offered, and he found himself wishing that he could somehow stay. At least there wouldn't be the fear, the loneliness and confusion, he thought. But some inner voice told him that maybe later far later this would be a place to seek, but for now there were other things to face.

Tanya made the sign of the cross, then stood up and walked to the door. .

"Now, can we behave ourselves?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"Sure, the Bells are always gentlemen," Justin replied with an amicable laugh.

She looked at him curiously and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Her hand lingered for a second,
then
dropped.

"Come on, or we'll be late for the ride back. Remember, we've got a study date tonight." Smiling, the two bounded down the stairs.

"Commander
Thorsson
, sir?" The commander of the Academy looked up from his
holo
screen. At the sight of Justin, he nodded and smiled.

"Come in, cadet, and please, stand at ease." Justin moved stiffly into the room in spite of the order. Though he knew the effects of Brother Bartholomew's concoctions had worn off, he was still nervous that
Thorsson
might know. Before making his way up to officer's country he had taken a quick shower, brushed his teeth twice, then changed into his class C jumpsuit.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Bell?"

"Sir, Brother Bartholomew aboard Franciscan Three insisted that I personally deliver this package."

Justin placed the box on
Thorsson's
desk and stepped back, hoping to be dismissed.

Thorsson
smiled with delight as he opened the box; Justin saw four metal flasks inside the container.

"Ah, Franciscan brandy best in the Universe if old Barry had a hand in the making of it."
Thorsson
looked at him. "Tastes good, doesn't it?"

"Ah, yes, sir."

Thorsson
smiled. "It's
OK,
I told him it was all right to let some of you cadets have a taste. Guess the old slug told you we served together."

"Ah, yes, sir, he did."

"Tell you anything about me?"

"No, sir."

Thorsson
smiled as if glad that some sort of secret had been kept.

"Well,
Barty
could rig up a still in the most unlikely places; heaven alone knows where he'd get the juice to play with. Going to the Franciscans was a natural for him," and then he fell silent, his voice trailing off.

"Lost his entire family wife, three children.
Those early days on Mars were tough lose a couple of supply ships or an air distillery breaks down, and people die."
Thorsson
shook his head sadly.

"I don't know if you know this, but his oldest girl, Margaret she was the first child born on Mars."

Thorsson
looked off, silent for a moment. "The price there's always a price with the settling of a frontier."

Justin said nothing, wondering if he should withdraw.

"Sit down for a minute,
Bell."
Thorsson
motioned to a chair next to his desk and Justin sat down on its edge.

"How are your studies going? Keeping up on
Astro-Nav
and nuclear physics?"

"Well, sir, I'm hanging on."

Thorsson
nodded, smiling.

"Heard you're going out for the Skyhook Diving team."

Justin gulped and nodded.

"Crazy sport, never catch me doing it,"
Thorsson
replied.

"Sir?"

"Flinging
yourself
off the
Skyhook
Tower
, falling five hundred
klicks
. No thank you reentry on the old rockets was tough enough on the nerves.
Used to scare me to death."

Justin looked at
Thorsson
, not sure how to reply to the Commanders admission of fear. It was impossible to believe such a thing in Thor
Thorsson
.

"Back in the old days, before the Skyhook, the only way down to Earth was standard reentry. Looks exciting enough in the old
vids
, but believe me, son, it used to scare the pants off me. Outside temps would soar up a couple of thousand degrees
When
we were flying those old government shuttles, you know what I used to think?"

"What, sir?"

"That this machine was built by the lowest contract bidder. I think I told you how when I was a boy I saw one of the old first-generation shuttles lift off."

Justin nodded, slightly awed that the man before him had memories of the 20th century space program.

"Well, I remember when one of the original shuttles peeled a heat tile on reentry. The thing opened up like a zipper once that first hole was punched. They never released it but years later, while I was in training, I heard the cockpit recording of the crew. It wasn't pleasant."

Thorsson
looked off for a moment.

"Anyhow, I used to dwell on that.
Funny how each of us has our own special fear that we rarely admit.
For some, it's getting spaced; for others it's a micro-meteor punch while out in a suit, even though the odds against that are next to nil. Others just fear being alone, meeting the
Tracs
, or simply 'pulling a Hansen.' For me it was burning on reentry. Liftoff was fine I loved it but once we were up I sweated out reentry even though it might be months away.
Used to keep me up late at nights."

Thorsson
laughed softly.

"Remember, I was one of the biggest proponents of the Skyhook. Sure, I gave all the arguments before committees about the ultimate payback on the trillion-plus investment. In just ten years we're seeing that already. But down deep, son, well down deep I wanted the darn thing so we could get rid of reentry."

Thorsson
smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"So now you know my little secret. Hope you don't think less of me."

Justin was startled.
"No, of course not, sir."

"When do you go for your first dive,
Bell?'

"We're supposed to go this weekend, sir."

"Fine, that fits the schedule."

"Schedule, sir?"

"You and forty other plebes are getting a posting, son."

"A posting?'
Justin was startled. Usually a cadet spent a year at the Academy before going out on his first assignment.

"Little change in policy. It's just a standard run out to an orbital base near Mars. Most of the ship's space was empty it's an old design run now by a skeleton crew, so I managed to convince Fleet Assignment to let me throw some plebes aboard. There won't be much shipboard duty, and thus plenty of time to keep up on your studies. You'll be gone a month. I thought it'd be a good incentive for some of our top plebes to get a shot at it, and might provide some good training as well."

"A top plebe, sir?"
Justin hesitated.
"You sure of that, sir?"

Thorsson
laughed and shook his head. "Just like your father.
Never really sure just how well you're doing.
Sure,
Astro
-Navigation needs some polishing, but there was that lifesaving award showed quick thinking and guts, more guts than you know you have. By the way, Cadets Everett, Smith and
Leonov
will be going along, so you'll have some friends to keep you company."

"That's great, sir. May I tell them?"

"Sure. Mention it to Cadet Colson as well. He's your roommate, isn't he?"

Justin hesitated.

"Yes, sir."

Thorsson
smiled knowingly.

"Is there a problem?"

"Oh, no, sir," Justin said quickly.

Thorsson
chuckled. "Ah, yes, the Code. Never squeal to an officer or upperclassman about another cadet. Well, I think having Mr. Colson going with you and especially with Mr. Everett might be the right touch."

"Sir?"

Justin was confused. The tension in their room since the start of the semester had been as thick as an arctic freeze. Justin had noticed that Colson tended to hang with several other cadets who had stated their disdain of
offworlders
and especially of the freewheeling style of solar sailors. Matt had tried to remain aloof, though there had been several sharp exchanges.

"Bell, there's a lot of tension on this ship, and not just among the plebes. I just cashiered two junior-level cadets today for a fistfight over the separatist issue. Though I know it's against tradition to talk about it I think it's safe to say that even up here in officer country there are some sharp disagreements."

Justin said nothing, feeling it best not to comment.

"If this system, this dream, is to work, then we have to bridge the differences within our own community. I remember once
reading about an old hero of mine, Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain ever hear
of him?"

"Yes, sir, I have. He was a Civil War general. My grandpa had an interest in the subject and even has his autograph."

"A good choice of heroes, Joshua Chamberlain.
Chamberlain once wrote about how he had hosted a visitor shortly before the war. This man was from the South, Chamberlain from the North. Both were well educated and, given the climate of the times, the subject turned to the crisis that was about to divide your country. Chamberlain later wrote that their conversation simply broke down, with the Southerner finally announcing that Chamberlain could never understand how the South felt. Chamberlain realized at that moment that if two intelligent men could not bridge the gap, reach some sort of understanding or at least acceptance of the opposing view, then they were all doomed."

"And are we doomed, sir?"

Thorsson
shook his head. "Not yet. At least I hope not. The separatists have to realize that the countries and businesses on Earth that financed this great expansion have invested trillions of dollars, and they expect a return and a certain amount of control. On the other side, those on Earth have to realize that we now have a new generation, like your friend Matt, who were not born on Earth they see their ship, or colony, or planet, as their place of allegiance.
Offworlders
like those have a hard time understanding how corporate administrators and political leaders millions of kilometers away can or should decide their destiny.

"If the separatists continue to move towards a radical position, people like Mr. Colson's father could lose hundreds of millions, even billions. But if Earth doesn't back off, grant more autonomy and ease taxes and restrictive trade regulations, the radicals will gain even more converts."

"So then it comes down to Matt and Wendell being ready to tear into each other," Justin said, a comment he instantly regretted, fearing that he had revealed something.

"I sort of assumed that,"
Thorsson
replied, waving his hand to still Justin's uneasiness.
"A pity.
Neither Chamberlain nor his acquaintance from the old South created the divisions that divided them. That situation had taken generations to develop, but they certainly paid for it with their blood. I fear a reprise."

Justin was silent, not knowing how to respond.

"There are some in this Service who are all but ready to drum anyone out of our brotherhood if they weren't born on Earth, or willing to take an unconditional oath of allegiance. They fear that
offworlders
might seize a ship or some such madness and give it to the radicals on the other side. Let's just hope that calmer heads prevail."

Thorsson
stirred uncomfortably, as if he had said too much.

T
think
your friend Mr. Everett will continue to show restraint. He's a good cadet and a worthy friend. I'd like to think that you could help him and Mr. Colson come to an understanding. That, in some small way, would most definitely prove something to us oldsters."

Justin felt as if he had just been given an order.

"I'll try, sir."

"Good. Going to Mars, especially this close to
conjunction,
might seem like short-haul stuff but I think all of you will find it interesting. Captain
MacKenzie
, who commands the ship you'll be on, is a tough man of the old school. Not to be crossed. He's not like
the officers you know here on the Academy and that's
part of the reason I

want
some of my best students to go out with him. Let's call it a dose of reality, Mr. Bell, one I hope you all learn from."

Thorssons
voice trailed off.

"Make me proud of you out there,
BelL
Have fun on your jump this weekend, and see you in a month."

"We're going to Mars," Matt chortled. "I still can't believe it.
Out of the classroom and away from
Davis and his bloody
Astro-Nav
course, what a treat!"

Justin nodded, unable to speak as he double-checked his suit.

"All right, you guys, ready for a little fun?"

Brian stepped in front of Justin, checking the straps that secured the reentry shield and retro-pack to his back. Even at five hundred
klicks
out, gravity aboard the
Skyhook
Tower
was just slightly less than on the surface of Earth, so that his suit and jump gear weighed over four hundred pounds. He wasn't even going to try and stand up from his sitting position in the support frame.