Katie Kincaid Candidate: Katie Kincaid One

by Andrew van Aardvark

  "Yes, sir," Kate said. "I regret what happened."

  The Commander sighed. "Though I suspect you don't feel responsible, despite having the sense not to say so."

  "Sir."

  "Miss Kincaid, you've either read too many old war memoirs or spent too much time with Chief Williamson," the Commander said. "What you haven't done is proven you can color within the lines. Work as part of a team without being disruptive. Are you game to try to fix that?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Very well," the Commander said. "I believe you owe me five weeks. You can spend them working on the processing line as a bottom level intern. If you can manage to do so without creating some sort of fuss, I'll grant you your endorsement."

  "Thank you, sir."

  * * *

  Not so very long ago, his daily lunches in the admin cafeteria with Guy and the other administrative heads had been one of Commander Tretyak's favorite parts of an established and comfortable routine.

  Not since Katie Kincaid had forced her way into his life.

  The Commander was reconsidering his conversation with Kincaid this morning.

  Superficially, he thought it had gone well. On reflection he was worried he'd might have made a fundamental error based on a misperception.

  "A penny for your thoughts," Guy, who was sitting across the lunch table, asked.

  "Not sure they're worth that," Yuri said. "Not sure it's entirely appropriate to discuss them either."

  "You can trust me," Guy said. "Nothing you don't want to will go any further."

  Yuri wondered for a moment if he should broach Kincaid's implication Billy was a bully with his friend. Her suggestion that Billy's bullying had gotten out of hand. He wished he could. He couldn't see it would do any good. He didn't see any chance that given the source, his friend would lend the accusation any credence. Especially given the unwillingness of any of those involved to admit to the facts of the matter. His own unwillingness to press Kincaid on the matter would be a problem. Best let sleeping dogs lie. "I think I may have mishandled the Kincaid girl," he said.

  "Not hard," Guy said, "that girl's a tricky piece of trouble."

  "And you see, Guy," Yuri said, "that's why I'm concerned about talking to you even though I value your advice. I trust you, but other people might think that sort of talk indicates clear bias."

  "I call them the way I see them," Guy replied.

  "Okay," Yuri said. He needed to move on. "The way I see the problem is that Miss Kincaid never learned the deference to adults from her parents that most kids do. It extends to her attitude to authority in general. It not only gets her into trouble, but it's led me into forgetting she is, in fact, only a young girl."

  "Yeah, that sounds right," Guy replied. "Can even admit it's not her fault. Not your fault either, though. You have to admit it's not like it won't get her into trouble at your Academy. It's a problem she needs to fix. Makes sense you want to see if she's capable of it before signing off on her."

  "That's reassuring," Yuri said. "Nice to know someone thinks I'm not totally off course here. Only I've arranged for her to spend time on the processing line. On reflection, I'm not sure she isn't too young for it. It can be a rough place. Dangerous too, if you're not careful."

  "Not fond of the girl," Guy said, "but do have to admit she can take care of herself."

  "No kids of my own," Yuri said, "but they can be hard to peg at that age, can't they? They're like young adults some of the time, and still only kids other times."

  "Yeah, tell me about it," Guy said. "You have to start letting go, but it's hard. No guarantees it'll work out."

  "I feel a certain responsibility for her now," Yuri said. "I also feel it'd be getting a little out of my lane, but that I ought to be careful and make a point of monitoring her progress personally. Just in case. I've heard rumors about processing line personnel getting rough with outsiders."

  "They don't send the best people down there, true," Guy said, "but I figure those rumors are exaggerated."

  "Still maybe I should haul her back in," Yuri replied. "Give her a better briefing. Make sure she understands she can call me if a problem comes up. That I'll abort the trial without prejudice if her safety seems threatened."

  "Kind of undermines the whole purpose of the exercise, doesn't it?" Guy asked.

  "Guess it does," Yuri admitted, "but I can't in conscience leave things as is."

  "Tell you what, Yuri," Guy replied. "I've got friends on the line there. I can call in favors. Ask them to keep a special eye on her. Is that good enough?"

  "Hate delegating responsibility like that," Yuri said. "Guess it's probably the best solution. I know the Kincaid girl is not your favorite person. I'm glad you're the sort of responsible adult who can be trusted to do the right thing in a situation like this."

  "What are friends for?" Guy asked.

  6: Katie Copes

  Katie gripped a handrail and looked around. The stars overhead she ignored. Fascinating as they were she had no time for “lollygagging” as Hanna would call it. The spidery metal framework of the ore docking facility she paid a bit more attention to. Some parts could move in order to adjust to different ships or other needs. Mostly she kept an eye on Hanna, the line worker who’d been assigned to mentor her.

  Hanna Rhinehart was less than pleased by the assignment. She’d already remarked to Katie that she didn’t have time for babysitting, that she had a job to do.

  If Katie hadn’t already had doubts about the task Commander Tretyak had given her, Hanna’s attitude would have created them. As it was, Katie was convinced it was a sure sign that the Commander, despite the years he’d spent on Ceres, was completely clueless about its social structure. In particular, what life was like for those at the bottom of that structure.

  Being on the processing line was the lowest rung of gainful employment on Ceres. Any lower and you were subject to deportation to a Mars, or for those fit enough Earth, based habitat for the delinquent or unproductive. Just keeping a person alive and out of trouble was much less expensive on the planets.

  Basically, the processing line was manned by the desperate dregs of Belter society.

  The work was boring, largely unskilled, and dangerous. Supposedly, the only reason it was not automated was because it was not quite routine enough for standard procedures. One size fits all couldn’t eke out the last few percent of needed profitability. Individual humans, their base salaries augmented by piecework bounties, were allegedly more adaptable.

  In any case, it was no place to drop a fifteen year girl into for a few weeks. Not that Katie intended to let that stop her. No, she’d have the courage to tough it out and the sense and discipline not to annoy anyone or get hurt.

  She’d start by trying to soften up Hanna.

  The fact she’d known how to put a spacesuit on properly and then do the necessary safety checks both on herself and Hanna had started the process. Her ability to maneuver in vacuum and microgravity had helped further.

  Hanna had gone from bitterly and coldly hostile to sullen and indifferent. Progress! Yeah!

  Right now at least Hanna’s constant anger wasn’t directed at Katie.

  The crew of the ship they were unloading containers of minerals from had somehow fallen behind in detaching them. As a consequence, Hanna, and Katie were waiting on them.

  Katie’s main goal for the next few weeks was just to keep her head down and not offend anyone. Still, this seemed like a chance to pry some information Hanna and maybe glean a sliver of sympathy. “Doesn’t seem like it should be that hard,” she said over their private channel on her suit’s radio. “Do glitches like this happen often?”

  “Often enough. Too often,” Hanna all but grunted back.

  Katie got the hint for the time being. She let the conversation lapse. A few minutes later there was a container ready to go. Together following Hanna’s instructions they guided it down the large down shaft into Ceres’ depths where the preliminary storage caverns were. Katie was
impressed by Hanna’s careful professionalism. She was all business. Didn’t waste any time or energy. Didn’t cut any corners either.

  Once they had the container in its resting place and dogged down Katie ventured some further comments. “So that went okay, right?” she asked. “I imagine as long as I don’t make a fuss and follow all the rules and directions it’ll work out, right?” She was feeling unusually uncertain.

  Hanna grunted and pointed across the cavern to something painted on its floor. Katie zoomed in with her suit’s optics. It looked like a blobby rounded human silhouette. “That’s where Jack got smeared,” Hanna said. “Tripped, got trapped under a container. Once these things get going, there’s nothing going to stop them short of solid rock. Got to keep your eyes open. Always pay attention and even then you can get unlucky.”

  “I guess this has got to be the most dangerous part of the processing line,” Katie said. “Imagine it gets better later.” She was scheduled to move down the line after a week in unloading. She didn’t understand why if they were testing her ability to get along with people they were moving between teams every week. She hadn’t figured it was a good idea to start off asking impertinent questions either.

  Hanna barked. Took Katie a moment to realize it was a bark of laughter. “No, kid,” Hanna said. “It does not get better.”

  Hanna hadn’t sounded too sympathetic, but she hadn’t sounded angry either. At least not at Katie. Katie decided to take advantage. “How’s that?” she asked.

  “It’s dangerous here,” Hanna said, “but it’s routine. No competition. You do your job careful like and you’re not too unlucky and you’ll be okay. No way to make extra money except overtime, but you can get by on the base salary. Further on it gets less standard and more competitive. Still dangerous. Loose rock as well as moving containers. Conveyor belts to get caught in. Nothing is standard or routine, and you can’t trust any of those rats.”

  “Sounds bad,” Katie said. “Any advice?”

  “Yeah, give it up,” Hanna said. “You quit you don’t get into your fancy school, but there’re worse fates.”

  “I’m not a quitter.”

  “You get killed or maimed you’re still not going to the Academy. Somebody’s got it out for you, kid.”

  Katie didn’t have an answer for that.

  * * *

  They were back at Bob’s Burgers. There’d been a time when Calvin would have been thrilled to have been spending so much time with Katie. He’d always enjoyed the food at Bob’s too. It was a treat.

  Right now he could barely stomach it.

  Katie was telling him about her first few days on the processing line. She was telling him about what the woman she’d been working with had told her. She was concerned.

  Not half as concerned as Calvin was. Somehow he had to convince her to give up on this craziness.

  Calvin figured he’d take the bull by the horns. “So it’s not going well?” he said.

  “That place is all messed up,” Katie stated. “The people are even more messed up.”

  Calvin blinked. Despite a predilection for critical thought, Katie usually managed to be positive. To look on the bright side of things. To see the best in people when she bothered to pay attention to them. “Processing line isn’t safe,” he said. “They don’t want to be there. Frankly, I wish you weren’t there.”

  “It’s only five weeks for me,” Katie answered, “and I’ve done almost a week of it. It’s been a couple of years since anyone was killed.”

  “But people do get killed,” Calvin said, “and even more get injured. Maimed for life, some of them. It’s not worth it, Katie. Give it up.”

  Katie gave Calvin a glare that made him want to crawl under the table. He didn’t. He stared right back at her. “It isn’t only your life,” he said. “Some of us care about you. Do you really think the Commander is going to relent and endorse your application? Or more likely isn’t he going to keep giving you harder and more dangerous tasks until you fail or get hurt?”

  “I don’t think the Commander or the authorities in general understand how bad it is on the processing line,” Katie said. “I think if I can prove to him I can toe the line and get along on a team that’ll he’ll endorse me. He might be somewhat blinkered, but I believe he’s an honest man.”

  Calvin sighed and decided to bite the bullet. “Bottom line, it’s just not worth it,” he said. “Going to the Academy is a dream for you because you want to prove you have what it takes. In reality, there’s nothing there for you. It wouldn’t be worth it, even if you weren’t taking all these risks. You can have everything you want here. I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life here with you. This is where you belong. You won’t find more happiness anywhere else.”

  “Calvin, you’ve been a good friend,” Katie said. “Sorry, but never thought of you as anything more. Not you, not anybody. Wouldn’t be fair, I’ve got plans that don’t allow for that. A good friend ought to support me.”

  Calvin swallowed. His eyes felt sore. He hoped he wasn’t tearing up. He spoke past a lump in his gut. “I’m sorry too. I want the best for you. This Academy quest of yours isn’t it. I can’t, I won’t, help you dig your own grave.”

  “That’s it then, isn’t it?” Katie said.

  “Yes, suppose so. I don’t have anymore to say. Do you?”

  “Nope,” she said. And with that she got up and left.

  As determined as ever.

  * * *

  Guy was in his quarters. Drinking. He’d had just come from another lunch with Commander Tretyak. Not a bad guy, but completely clueless. He supposed he should be a little more forgiving. He’d missed the developing crisis with Billy right under his own eyes, after all.

  It irked. He’d always prided himself on being hard headed. Not letting sentiment cloud his vision. Yet that’s exactly what he’d done with his son.

  It’d taken some work to winkle the truth out of Billy’s friends and then Billy himself.

  Billy and his gang had graduated from being bullies to outright criminal behavior. That wasn’t what bothered Guy the most. It was the stupid short sighted and petty manner they’d gone about it. Worse, that sniveling little rat Marvin had probably kept Billy from being even dumber.

  Guy turned and flung the glass he been drinking from at the wall. It bounced, scattering expensive liquor everywhere. Modern glasses didn’t break easily. He’d have to clean the mess up himself. It wouldn’t do to have anyone else realize he was losing his grip. That temper was what had driven Billy’s mother away. He’d thought he’d long since conquered it.

  Guess not. Billy’s mother had been a fine woman. Very attractive and as sweet as can be. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, though. Kind of dumb, in fact. Something a young man’s hormones had led him to overlook at first. Later, it’d meant she’d not understood the business he was in. That she’d not understood what she was getting into when she’d married him. And so she’d left.

  Leaving him with Billy, who’d had the luck to get his mother’s brains and his dad’s looks and character. Not a good combination.

  Successful criminals had to be smart. Still, the boy was his son, and he’d do his best for him.

  It’d turned out that the scrap with the Kincaid girl hadn’t been the only incident he’d been in. If that’d been his son’s only transgression, it could have been worked through with some awkwardness. Turned out Kincaid had been right to resist, otherwise it might have gone much worse for her. Like it had for others.

  Problem was that if Kincaid was ever to provoke a proper investigation into Billy’s doings it’d all come out.

  If that happened, Billy was going away for a long time. Guy be lucky to keep his own job. His reputation would be in tatters. If his apparent weakness emboldened some of his less trustworthy associates, it might be worse than that. Guy might end up doing time himself.

  He couldn’t risk that.

  Something decisive needed to be done about the Kincaid problem.<
br />
  Fortunately, he had people in place on the processing line that could see to it.

  * * *

  Katie had thought of Commander Tretyak’s trials as meaningless in their own right. Jumping through some hoops to satisfy a man who’d spent too long behind a desk. Who’d forgotten how to make decisions.

  She was feeling more stressed out than she’d ever been. She was revising that opinion. Two weeks into her stint on the processing line and she was having doubts. The place was a dog’s breakfast.

  She’d had to look up the meaning of the expression when she’d first encountered it. Space was no place for pets. A very few people on Ceres itself had cats, birds, or fish, and that was it. She’d been taken with how it epitomized the idea of a disgusting mess.

  If that hadn’t been enough the thing with Calvin was worse. It really wasn’t pertinent to her current problems, and she wished she could stop thinking about it. It slammed home two points she’d rather not have acknowledged.

  You’d have thought with her parents she’d have realized that simply because people wanted good things for you didn’t mean they wanted what you did. Point one. Point two. She was bad at noticing things about the people around her. Calvin had a crush on her. How had she not noticed that?

  It was depressing. She couldn’t afford the time to moon over it.

  Nobody on the processing line, on any part of it, could afford distractions.

  Currently, she was working at a “second pick” station. First pick happened almost immediately after the initial unloading of the mineral containers.

  Fact was, most asteroids were piles of rubble. You ran into the odd one, an “M-type”, that was solid iron nickel and they were simple to process. Already reduced to reasonable sized chunks by the initial mining process, they could be sent directly to the steel foundries. Turned out despite the bad odds, the workers on the processing line still liked to pick them over. A single lucky find of a gold, platinum, or other precious nugget could set a worker up for life. Even a single small fragment of precious metal could mean a week off or some luxuries otherwise unaffordable.