Article 23 Page 4

  "Article Twenty-four"

  Justin had heard the Articles, all twenty-five of them read off at every Sunday service, and he was expected to know all of them by heart. But there was something chilling about the ritual, which he knew dated back hundreds of years to the old sailing days of the British Royal Navy.

  The reading completed, Brian waited for several minutes as if hoping that someone had to sneeze, twitch, or move. He was looking for a victim to make an example of. Justin knew that for some of the offworlders standing at attention in half-gravity must be agony, and someone finally buckled, leaning forward with a low moan. Justin shot a quick glance down the corridor as Brian closed in on the offender. It was Alice McKay, a cadet from one of the orbital colonies, and Seay launched into her so that she was in tears. Justin looked past her and finally saw the girl who had caused him so much troubled thought, Tanya Leonov. She was standing next to Alice, her eyes straight ahead.

  "And if you can't take it, plebe, ship out now!" Seay shouted, and Alice finally straightened back up. "That'll be double watch tonight, four hours straight, midnight to four, do you read me?"

  "Yes, sir!" and Justin felt a wave of pity. She'd get less than two hours sleep tonight before having to fall out for the first day of classes. A bad first day could set her up for the whole semester.

  "All right, you ship's rats. One hour till chow.

  Make sure your rooms are shipshape or Weak Knees here will have company on watch. Fall out!"

  Brian swept down the corridor; everyone was silent until he finally turned the corner and disappeared.

  "Boy, he's even worse than this summer," Matt groaned, leaning forward and letting his knees bend. "And I thought he was gonna be OK."

  "Never trust an upper."

  Justin turned and looked at his new roommate and nodded in half-agreement.

  "Well, lets get squared away," Matt suggested as he opened the door and led the way into their room. Justin stepped in and looked around. It was slightly bigger than the room he had shared with Matt and Pradeep during the summer, with two double bunks lining one wall, four desks and the holo field on a second, and the closets occupying the third. Justin and Matt had already flipped for who got top or lower Matt won, a decided plus for him since lower bunks tended to get sat upon by visitors.

  "Hey, Uncle, what's been happening?" Matt asked as he headed for his bunk and started to unfold his linens to make his bed. The holo computer field on the opposite wall lit up.

  "Cadet Everett, good to see you back," Uncle replied. "And I see Cadets Singh, Bell, and Colson as well."

  Justin looked over at his new roommate as the computer announced who he was. Colson nodded. There was something familiar about the name but he couldn't quite place it.

  "Now as to your question, Matt, about what is happening? If you are referring to the overall state of the universe, there have been two supernovas sighted in Andromeda. Within our own Milky Way, a most curious change of pulse rate in a quasar was reported yesterday. Within our solar system"

  "Relax, Uncle," Matt chortled, "I mean, just with you. You know, the old human greeting, 'what's new'? "

  "Ah, with me. It's been decidedly boring with nearly everyone gone until this morning. My human support team installed ten thousand tril new holo cubes into my deep-core memory while you were away. Wonderful feeling, sort of like stretching and finding more room. I also received an upload of 19th-century photographs, several hundred thousand of them. Fascinating, you humans back in your primitive days. I even uploaded a new archive of early movies from your 1930s and 40s I love Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon. That's about all. I take it you enjoyed your trip to Earth?"

  Matt launched into a description of his experiences and Justin, smiling, half-listened to the embellishments surrounding their canoe trip down Sugar Creek, the visit to the Purdue Campus, and walks through Indiana cornfields.

  "Sounds like you really liked Earth," Colson suddenly interrupted.

  "Yeah, never been there before," Matt replied. "Kind of strange to have a steady gravity, and a bit of a closed-in feeling. But I loved the smells in the air, especially when we had a barbecue, and the sound of the birds singing the hour before dawn. And dawn I never imagined such colors, the oranges and reds streaking the sky. The thun-derstorms and the rainbow afterwards, it was great."

  Colson nodded tolerantly. "So the colonial boy finally gets back to the center of things."

  "What do you mean?" Justin asked cautiously.

  "Just that. It's good for offworlders to come back to Earth and realize where the center and power of things truly are."

  "Say, Colson," Pradeep interrupted. "It's Wendell Colson III, isn't it?"

  Golson nodded.

  'Tour father's on the Space Security Council."

  "The same."

  Matt looked at him closely, his face darkening.

  "And your family owns Colson Construction, don't they?"

  "What of it?"

  Justin looked over at Matt and sensed something building.

  "Just that they make the worst damn habitat units and ship pods in the system."

  "And what's that supposed to mean?" Colson replied coolly.

  "Just that," Matt snapped back. "Substandard construction. Gasket seals prematurely aging and blowing. You people knew about it, should have issued recalls, but didn't."

  "That was all cleared up." Colson answered as if Matt were barely worth talking to. "I don't see why you're getting all upset."

  "Upset?" Matt snapped back. "Me upset? Wouldn't you be upset if your pod blew and your parents shoved you into an airlock, then stayed on the other side because the three of you couldn't survive in that tiny room, and you were there for weeks watching them float in vacuum?"

  Matt's voice went up sharply and he drew closer to Colson. Justin stepped between them.

  "Investigations cleared my family of any wrong doing," Colson replied sharply.

  Justin could see the rage in Matt's eyes and understand it. Yet he knew it was unfair to blame someone his own age for an incident that happened years ago.

  "Cool it down, Matt," Justin said, pushing him back. He looked at Matt, and to his surprise he could see tears forming. "Cool it," Justin whispered, "it's not his fault."

  Matt nodded and started to lower his head.

  "And besides," Colson offered, "it was most likely their own damn fault anyhow that they got killed."

  Matt surged back up again. Justin turned to face Colson, struggling with the desire to simply let Matt go.

  "That was uncalled-for," Pradeep now interjected. "So both of you, calm down."

  "Calm? Of course I'm calm," Colson replied smoothly. "Just keep that sailor boy away from me. Offworlders, they're all alike, always ready to blame their woes on those who do the real work."

  "Just what is that crack supposed to mean?" Justin asked,

  "Why, it's obviously the truth, Bell," Colson snapped back.

  "Elaborate on this?" Pradeep asked softly. "I'm curious."

  Justin looked back at Matt, who was staring with cold rage at Colson.

  "He isn't worth it," Justin whispered. "Hit him and you're out of here. Now go to the head, cool off and then come back" Justin pushed Matt to the door. Matt started to turn, but to his own surprise Justin actually managed to shove him out into the corridor.

  Matt started back for the door, but Justin stopped him.

  "Look, you can't blame Mr. Stuck-up, in there for what happened to your parents."

  "Yeah, I know. I was off the handle, but what he said about them killing themselves. That's what got me."

  "I understand. But we've got to live with each other."

  "Well, there's more. His old man is one of the guys really stoking this crisis."

  "How so?"

  "He's on the Security Council Board for Space. He's the guy calling everyone out here ungrateful traitors and pushing for the Service to preemptively intervene at any colony where known separatist leaders might be located." />
  Surprised, Justin looked back to the room. The door was half-open and Pradeep and Colson were obviously in a hot debate.

  "That would be war," Justin said.

  "Darn straight, and Justin between us, it'd throw me over to their side once and for all."

  Justin looked back into the room and thought he saw a flicker of interest from Colson. The cadet half-turned away from Pradeep, and then turned back.

  "Well, the Service would never buy it," Justin whispered. "That's a straight-out violation of freedom of speech. You can't arrest someone for saying a change of government or in the status of the colonies is needed. Only if they move to overthrow the government, only then."

  "Tell that to Colson the third in there," Matt snapped. "He's a chip off the old block, it seems. Beyond that, his family did kill many a good sailor. The investigation showed that they knew the seals were degrading quicker than the specs said, but they never issued a recall since it would have cost them millions. So the seals blew, dozens died, and they managed to cover it up."

  "Matt, you can't blame him for that one."

  "Yeah, I know, I was out of line."

  Justin forced a smile.

  "Hit the head, cool off and let's see if we can settle this when you come back."

  "Yeah, sure, Justin. Thanks, buddy. I might of slugged the guy if it hadn't been for you."

  Justin smiled and went back into the room.

  "You can't lump them all together like that," Pradeep was saying.

  "They allow it to be said in their midst. Without our support on Earth the colonies would all die within the year. It's about time they realized that and got off their high horses. I know what I've heard and I think that when you look at an offworlder, you're looking at an ungrateful traitor."

  "Wait a minute, Wendell," Justin said. "Didn't you hear Thorsson? He won't tolerate that kind of talk around here. If we reported this conversation to his office your butt would be in the wringer."

  "Are you going to go squealing?" Colson asked, a mocking tone in his voice.

  "No, of course not."

  "And what about you, Uncle?" Colson asked, looking at the computer.

  "You know that would be a violation of the law," Uncle replied, his voice sounding cool and distant. "Computers may not report conversations without a specific court order, which is issued only when a felony is under investigation."

  "Well, right there you have it," Colson said. "Everyone's too soft. Those people out there are plotting rebellion. One of my family's construction sites was threatened with seizure by some damn radicals, and we can't even use a stupid computer to help get the evidence!"

  Justin looked over at Uncle as if to apologize. Even though Uncle was a machine, somehow Justin felt that he did indeed have feelings, and to call him stupid was an insult to something that could not fight back.

  "So is that the real reason here?' Pradeep asked. "It's not policy, but rather it's your family's construction sites on Mars? Sites they control from Earth and which are little better than factory towns right out of the 19th century, where they even charge double the going rate for air rations?"

  "We have a right to make money and they don't have a right to try and stop us. All this rubbish about 'local control' is nothing but double-talk for theft by traitors. I've yet to meet an offworlder you could trust."

  "Then, if so," Justin asked, "why are you here?"

  Colson sniffed. "Family tradition. Do my bit with the Service, then move up to take over the business, if there's still a business around in ten years."

  Matt came into the room and Wendell stiffened.

  "It's finished right here," Pradeep announced before Matt could say a word. "Thorsson was right, we have to treat each other like comrades. There are too many other strikes against us plebes as it is without you two going for each other's throats."

  Matt nodded, and ever so slowly extended his hand.

  "Look, I'm sorry about accusing you of being responsible for my parent's deaths. OK?"

  Golson smiled, but it wasn't a friendly look. To Justin it seemed as if Wendell fully expected Matt to simply bow down and submit. Colson limply took Mart's hand and then quickly dropped it. Turning his back, he went to work on arranging his bunk.

  An icy silence descended on the room. Justin could sense that the basic good-natured aspect within Matt wanted to somehow patch things up, but the way Colson had taken his hand without comment and then turned away had left him confused as to what to do next. The silence was strange to Justin, for usually Matt was a non-stop talker, ready to fill any conversational gap with a funny story or tall tale about solar sailing.

  "Gentlemen, ten minutes to chow," Uncle finally interrupted.

  Grateful for the opportunity to break off the silent confrontation, Justin looked over at the holo screen and nodded an acknowledgment. During the summer session he had come to regard Uncle as a friend, and once more he wondered about the machine. Uncle had heard every word of the conversation the machine heard and knew everything that happened aboard ship. Yet he was programmed with a very selective memory as prescribed by law. No conversation or action observed by him could ever be repeated except in the case of a class-one felony, and even then the programming block could only be lifted by the unanimous decision of a three-judge panel.

  Justin wondered again if Uncle had personal likes and dislikes. He felt as if the machine actually did like him and looked out for him whenever possible. He knew that was illogical, for Uncle, after all, was a machine, yet the way he had so casually interrupted them, thus breaking off the confrontation, was interesting.

  "Company A, fall out for chow!" Seay's voiee echoed down the hall. Justin double-checked his bed and locker to make sure they were ready for room inspection after dinner.

  "One final thing," Colson suddenly announced.

  Justin looked over at Colson, who had finished stowing his gear in his locker. Colson stepped around Justin and stopped in front of Matt.

  "I don't want to hear you spreading stories about my family. I'll try to ignore your less-than-desirable political beliefs and," he hesitated for a moment then smiled, "the support of them that I just heard you announce out in the hallway. But I'll remember what you said, and if you cross me on anything I'll turn you in."

  "What kind of threat is that?" Justin snapped.

  "A promise. There are other cadets who still have the guts to stand up to traitors, and when the time comes we'll be ready."

  Without another word he stalked out of the room.

  Justin looked over at Matt, expecting an explosion. But the old Matt was back. Shaking his head, Matt broke into a grin.

  "A jerk, buddy, a class-A jerk, and that's no mistake!"

  "A dangerous jerk," Pradeep added quietly.

  Chapter III

  "Come on now, son, you can do better than that!"

  Rubbing his backside, Matt struggled back up to his feet, breathing hard under the stress of nearly one-and-a-half gees. Chief Petty Officer Kevin Malady, their close-in combat instructor, stood balanced on the balls of his feet looking as if he were poised to jump straight up and turn a quick somersault. Malady took the knife he had snatched from Matt's hand and tossed it to the side of the practice circle, motioning for Matt to rejoin the group. .

  Malady scanned the group and nodded towards Justin.

  "All right, son, you're next."

  Justin tried to ignore the snickers of some of his fellow cadets as he stepped up to the edge of the fighting circle.

  "So, son, what weapon will it be?"

  Justin looked down at the assortment of deadly instruments laid out on the floor. There were several wicked looking knives, a plain old baseball bat with the charming touch of a few spikes driven through it, a fire ax, and a strange-looking device made up of a section of steel pipe topped by a two-foot section of wire with a lead ball tied to the end.

  "Care to try the mace, Mr. Bell?" Malady asked.

  Justin looked down at the weapon. Maybe in l
ow, even standard gravity, but out here on the exercise pylon, which extended a hundred and fifty meters out from the main hull of the ship, he wasn't sure how well he could handle it.

  He shook his head.

  "Good decision, Bell. The mace seems to be popular with certain punks who prowl the tougher sections of the Moon's mining camps. Can be deadly in low gravity, but here you just might wind up wrapping it around your head."

  Justin finally settled on the baseball bat. He hefted it up as he stepped into the circle. At least at home he had had a little experience with a bat, though usually when it came to a pickup game the other players tended to relegate him to right field and pray nothing would come his way.

  Justin clenched the bat and raised it as if facing a pitcher.

  Malady wearily shook his head.

  "No, no," he sighed. "I'm not a hard ball, Mr. Bell. Give me that."

  Malady bounded forward, moving with the ease of a ballet dancer in spite of his massive bulk. He took the bat and held it up, clenching the weapon a third of the way up from the handle.

  "A lot of fools try the way you did, son. They'll only get one good swing in. If your opponent can dodge it, they'll be on you before you can recover. In low gravity you'll just spin around like a top and then catch a knife in the kidneys. Use both ends of it, just like old Robin Hood and his merry men used the quarterstaff like this."

  Malady feigned a blow to Justin's head with the spiked end, recovered, and then drove in with the butt of the handle, stopping the blow at the last instant so it was just a light tap under the chin. Justin realized that if it had been for real he'd be ordering a new set of teeth.