Katie Kincaid Candidate: Katie Kincaid One

by Andrew van Aardvark

  The Commander pursed his lips and paused for a few seconds. He seemed to be suppressing a sigh. “Correct on both counts,” he said slowly, “but it’s not quite that simple. The fact that you were brought up practically alone except for your parents with very limited time dealing with other people except during the mandatory time here on Ceres is a major issue. It means you just don’t have the experience dealing with other people almost every other person your age has had.”

  “And when I have dealt them I’ve been a little rough around the edges, right?”

  The Commander coughed. It seemed she’d amused him. Once again she was surprised how much she liked the man even though he was standing between her and what she wanted. “Miss Kincaid,” he said. “I’ve been in this post far too long. It doesn’t suggest good things about my career. I’ve been on Ceres for most of your life, and everybody here always knew when you were in residence.”

  “Oh,” Katie said. She hadn’t realized that.

  “You always got into trouble or clashed with someone in ways that entertained the whole base. Generally harmless and you always had the best excuses for your behavior, but if you were here there was fuss and controversy. You were the terror of your teachers. Nobody likes being made to look like an idiot by one of their students.”

  “I never meant to cause trouble,” Katie said. If she was honest, she’d have to admit she never went out of her way to avoid it either, but she wasn’t actually setting out to cause it.

  “And yet it always found you,” the Commander said. “Am I wrong?”

  “No, sir,” she said. “I know I’m stronger at tech than at soft skills, but I am determined to make that up.”

  “That’s good,” the Commander said, “it will serve you well later in life. Right now no matter how intelligent and determined you are I don’t think you can fake it. I think you’d need to internalize a whole different set of beliefs about the world and I’m not sure you can do that.”

  “Sir, it’s not my fault I’ve always been an outsider and don’t know all the unwritten and unspoken rules everyone else knows,” she said. “Where the rules are clear, I’ve always been very careful to follow them to the letter.”

  “I know I’ve reviewed your file carefully,” the Commander said. He sighed. “You could be a fine lawyer if you wanted to be.”

  Katie shivered. “My parents have never spoken well of lawyers,” she said. “They’ve always said one of the best things about the Belt is that there are so few lawyers.”

  The Commander’s lips quirked. “Yet something else we agree on,” he said. “This has been an educational talk, if nothing else.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Miss Kincaid,” the Commander said, “I do feel bad about not believing I should endorse your candidacy. Whatever your personal imperfections, it’s mostly not your fault. Your upbringing was in your parents’ hands. I know you’re smarter and more knowledgeable than many adults but you lacked, and still lack, the experience to know what’s important to learn. It was your parents’ job to provide you guidance. For someone who was going to spend the rest of their life on a ship in the Belt, maybe you got an adequate education.”

  “Belters are better at math than any other group in the Solar System,” Katie said. It was a matter of local civic pride.

  “They’re good at solving technical problems, navigating, and doing accounting,” the Commander said.

  Katie wasn’t sure if that was agreement or not.

  “I shouldn’t be so blunt about airing the Space Force’s dirty laundry,” the Commander said, “but I think we owe you. The Space Force Academy’s formal admissions requirements have been heavily distorted by political forces.”

  “Meaning what, sir?” Katie asked. She hoped she wasn’t being curt. She did need more of those social skills he was talking about.

  “Meaning that they’re formulated to be fair and open to everyone and are based solely on tests that can be objectively scored.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “The vast majority of the Solar System’s voting population would like to think so,” the Commander said dryly. “The Admissions Board wants the optics of being fair. Unfortunately, trust me on this, they don’t match what’s needed to succeed at the Academy. Even if you were a much better fit personally, you wouldn’t get a fair shake there. You’re not from one of the right Earth families. You haven’t gone to the right schools.”

  “That’s not fair,” Katie protested.

  “No, it’s not,” the Commander. “It’s the truth, but I can’t say it publicly, and it won’t do you any good to protest it, either. Not your fault, but your inevitable failure at the Academy would be bad for you, and it’d also set back hopes of widening the diversity in the Space Force’s officer body.”

  “Sir,” Katie said, “this might all be true. I’m not qualified to know. I know that. I don’t want to give up just because you’ve given me a discouraging talk.”

  “I see.”

  “Please, sir. Give me a chance to do something that will show I can learn to fit in better.”

  “I have something,” the Commander said. “Your reputation for being determined matches that for being a trouble maker.” He smiled grimly. “You won’t like it. It won’t be easy. It’s really a softball pitch just the same.”

  “Yes, sir,” Katie said. “Anything.”

  “Miss Ping,” the Commander said.

  Katie had heard of her. The dragon lady, the single most feared teacher on Ceres. Her classes mandatory for anyone taking the Earth Equivalency Baccalaureate. Katie had followed the Advanced Belter course of study with a bunch of Advanced Placement courses in math, the sciences, and engineering. She’d had Mr. Malik’s history course on the settlement of the Solar System as both her single mandatory history course and her writing one to boot. He was a dear. Everyone’s favorite teacher. His stories made his subject matter come to life, even if they did tend to drift a little off topic from time to time. He was everything Ping was not.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “She’s been convinced to do a special condensed version of her regular course that starts soon,” the Commander said. “Rather like what we called a summer course back on Earth. All day every day for six weeks. Mostly for students who need it, but have already failed it once or twice.”

  Katie blinked. Miss Ping was not noted for compromising and her full length course was already infamous for the dense amount of detail she required her students to master. “Convinced, sir?” Katie asked. “Not much in the way seasons out here,” she added for no good reason. She realized she wasn’t fully parsing what he was trying to say.

  “She was bitterly opposed to the idea,” the Commander said. “Again not a point for public consumption. She believes her course is already too short. There are, however, important people whose children won’t be able to go to university on Earth this Fall without passing it. Earth still runs by the seasons in its northern hemisphere. My suspicion is she’ll happily flunk the whole class. Lady is an institution and has the letter of the law on her side.

  “You want me to take this course?”

  “Yes, and to get good marks and a favorable report from Miss Ping herself,” the Commander said. “If you manage that, I’ll review my position on endorsing your application to the Academy in the light of it.”

  “I’ll sign up immediately, sir.”

  “Very well. I think we’re done here. Good Luck, Miss Kincaid.”

  3: Katie Commits

  Commander Yuri Tretyak hit the punching bag with every ounce of strength he could muster. He was frustrated and unhappy. Better to take that out on a punching bag preserving his upper body strength than some other way. So as soon as the Kincaid girl had left, he'd scheduled an extra exercise session in at the end of his afternoon.

  You had to set priorities. You had to take care of yourself. You had to keep your saw sharp as the adage went.

  Also, he thought better when his blood was
up and moving.

  Katie Kincaid had been something of a surprise. He'd seen her around and he'd thought he knew her through her reputation and records. They hadn't done her justice. The girl wasn't a mere savant. She wasn't just book and exam smart. She had a sharp aware intelligence that shone through her every word. He could see how many people might be intimidated by that and resent the fact of it. Also gave every indication of being pragmatic and determined both. He'd rather liked her. Which was unfortunate.

  He was tempted to give her a minimal pro forma endorsement and let events take their course.

  It'd be a mischievous and irresponsible course of action.

  He grabbed the wildly swinging punching bag and held it still. He punched it again. Quick, hard jabs in fast succession. It helped some.

  For all that his personal sympathy for the young woman had increased, he'd also substantially increased his perception that she'd be a disruptive influence both at the Academy and later in the Space Force.

  He'd been very impressed by her indeed.

  He'd thought she'd likely embarrass both herself and him at the Academy given the chance.

  He now thought she had a lot more potential than that.

  He now thought she had it in her to do genuine damage.

  He suspected she might actually have it in her to fake being the epitome of what a Space Force officer ought to be. That she might be able to fill the gaps in her education. That despite being a social misfit, she might be able to finesse that somehow. He couldn't imagine how. That didn't mean a capable young woman intensely focused on the issue wouldn't find some workaround. Belters were nothing if not adaptively innovative.

  Sadly, that'd likely only reinforce an internal conviction that she knew best. At some point in an important crisis, what the Space Force thought was right and what Katie Kincaid thought was right wasn't going to be the same. She'd do what she thought was right.

  Given her inexperienced arrogance who knew what damage that'd do.

  It couldn't be risked.

  Not much immediate action was required. He'd talk to Miss Ping tell her to keep an eye out. He obviously needed to dig into the history of her and her family more deeply.

  Fortunately, the young woman's candidacy allowed him to do so without all the privacy constraints such research would normally face.

  He'd been blinded by his dislike of her family to a degree. He didn't think that altered the basic facts of the matter.

  Eventually it'd be obvious to everyone it wasn't right she should go to the Academy.

  That she should never be allowed to exercise command in the Space Force.

  * * *

  Calvin looked around the best restaurant on Ceres he could almost afford to buy dinner at. It was a cozy imitation of a twentieth century diner back on Earth. It had burgers, fries, milkshakes, and pizzas that were outright addictive. Katie should be arriving soon.

  There she was. Practically bouncing into the diner even though it was at close to full gravity. She waved at him with a big grin.

  It pierced his heart with affection. An affection he hoped to tell her about this evening. As part of explaining she didn't have to leave the Belt, or even Ceres, to have a good life. Maybe he'd even hint that that good life could be with him. Might be too much too soon.

  Before he could finish the thought she was sitting down. "It's nice of you to be buying me dinner like this tonight," she said. "Mom and Dad aren't hurting for extra funds, but I try to be responsible, and eating at a fancy place like might seem profligate."

  "I owe you for helping me out with Billy," Calvin replied. "Besides it doesn't hurt to indulge on the rare occasion."

  "You're my friend, Calvin, I had to," Katie answered. "This is almost overdoing it. I mean the pizza is famous, and I hear they import real milk concentrate and reconstitute it for the milkshakes. Authentic is great, but that's crazy, there's nothing wrong with synthetic milk."

  "Well, we're here," Calvin said. "Try to enjoy it. How'd your day go?"

  "Wow, Commander Tretyak is not at all what I expected," Katie said starting into a long discussion of her meeting with the Space Force District Commander. It took them all the way through ordering a meat lovers pizza and a strawberry milkshake to share. Katie did cease her long relation along enough scoff most of both the pizza and the milkshake. She didn't seem to notice that fact, and Calvin didn't bother to point it out. He'd wonder where she put it all, but it was obvious she burned it all to provide her the constant energy she exhibited. It was something he'd gotten used to long ago.

  Finally as Katie ate the last piece of pizza Calvin got in a word. "So despite hitting it off well, he's still determined not to endorse your application?" he asked.

  "Yeah, it's odd," she said, "but he's convinced I wouldn't be a good fit."

  "It could be you really do belong in the Belt here," Calvin suggested.

  "I don't know," Katie replied. "Being a tough independent Belter far from the maddening crowd that was my parent's dream. I've never fit in well. I don't have that many friends here."

  "You've got me, and Sam, and a lot of people probably be willing to be better friends if you slowed down a bit and spent more of your time actually socializing here on Ceres," Calvin suggested.

  "I'm sorry," Katie said. "Didn't mean to suggest you and Sam aren't great. Maybe I could try harder. No, I definitely could. Time is so short and there's so much to do. Mainly I want to go somewhere I can be someone who makes a difference."

  "You could make a difference here."

  Katie looked at Calvin like an inquisitive bird. Like he was a shiny object that she'd noticed. Calvin had wanted her to pay more attention to him. Maybe not like this, though. "The Belt is a resource outpost," Katie said. "We exist for the convenience of the industries that serve the populations on Mars and Earth. We're important in that regard, but the big decisions, the future course of humanity is being determined elsewhere. Mainly on Earth still, no matter how stodgy they are."

  "So we're just not important enough for you here in the Belt," Calvin said. He couldn't help feeling annoyed.

  "Everybody is important as an individual human being," Katie said. "Only a few people are to make decisions and act in ways that will critically affect everybody's future. They're mostly at the top of big organizations headquartered on and around Earth. Organizations like the Space Force. It's simply the way it is. I'm not apologizing for telling it the way it is."

  Calvin wondered how the evening had gone so far sidewards. Time to change the topic. "So he wants you to take the Dragon Lady's course, a short version," he asked.

  "Yeah, I think he means me to do the labors of Hercules thing," Katie replied. "Not exactly a short version either, more an intensely compressed version. I got the impression he doesn't expect Ping to take it easy on us."

  "My parents made me take that course," Calvin said. "It was tough. They let me out of my chores so I could concentrate on it. I sweated that course and let everything else slide for an entire semester, and I still barely passed."

  "Maybe you could help me study?" Katie asked.

  It was the last thing Calvin wanted to do. Still, it'd mean spending more time with her. "Sure," he said.

  "Thanks," she said.

  It might have been what earned him a hug when they left after he'd paid the bill.

  She made her own way home, though. Had studying to do. They agreed to meet the next day. He was going to bring his notes.

  He wasn't sure if he'd made progress at all.

  Somehow it didn't feel like it.

  * * *

  Sam was working with a door mechanism that'd been beat to crap. It was the first job of his morning. He liked to front load his least favorite tasks for the day. Might not help his overall mood, but it did see that the necessary chores got done.

  It was a sad and annoying fact that people often abused the gear they needed. Usually through indifference and neglect, but also sometimes it was apparent somebody had taken out their fr
ustrations with other people on their poor inanimate helpers.

  It bothered Sam on one level. In a world that already had enough problems, why create more? On the other hand, it provided him at least half his business.

  "Hi, Sam," came Katie's voice.

  He hadn't noticed her coming in. He was getting soft in his old age. Or maybe his unconscious had just registered her as a friend. Wasn't sure which was more worrisome. Good to see her, though. Always nice to have other peoples' problems to solve. "So what brings you again here so soon?" he asked.

  "What a friend can't just visit a friend?" Katie retorted. "What are you working on?"

  Sam noted the transparent attempt to indicate interest in whatever he was doing, though he had no doubt she'd get to the problem she'd come to ask him about soon enough. The girl did have to work on her social skills. "Door lock," he said. "Been beat to crap by people slamming it closed day after day."

  Katie came over and eyed the large square hunk of metal. Locks weren't something you saw much of on a family operated ship. "Awfully thick plate metal. Must be a centimeter thick. You'd think that thing could survive Armageddon," she said.

  "It looks that way true," Sam replied. "The whole point really. Plate's mostly for show. Sure it makes it real hard for anyone to get directly at the lock mechanism, but the thing is vulnerable in other places. It's a common flaw in security systems. An old instructor of mine used to call it 'the steel door to the grass hut syndrome'".

  Katie blinked. It was obviously not a clear analogy to her. "Because an attacker doesn't need to go through the door, they can just go through the hut walls?" she half asked, half stated.

  "Exactly," Sam confirmed. "People get so focused on one part of the problem they miss the wider picture."