The faculty looked at one another. They had heard about a new program circulating the rumor mill. It had been extensively discussed how to reduce the number of people entering TERRA without upsetting the population. The problem had been examined for so long, no one expected a solution.
Mortino continued. "The list provided to you is of this year's graduating seniors selected to go into the new program.”
“It looks like almost a quarter of the senior class is on here,” commented tactics instructor George Paez.
Mortino nodded. “Correct. As you know, each graduating senior that enters TERRA is guaranteed financial security and benefits for life. The fleet simply does not have the means to support this arrangement any longer. To remedy the problem the command council created a reservist program that these seniors will be the first to enter. Rather than work as TERRA officers, they will be placed on reserve status and will only be called upon to serve during times of war.”
“And what exactly does reserve status mean?” asked engineering instructor Brandi Marcus.
“These reservists will not actively work in TERRA, instead applying the skills they've learned here in the private sector. They will receive no pay or support from TERRA whatsoever.”
McLeeland interrupted Mortino. “Our cadets work hard and sacrifice a lot to qualify for entry into the Academy. Many spend their entire lives preparing themselves for the entrance exams. What’s the point of them going through all that if they won’t become officers?”
“The reserve program won’t diminish the respect TERRA graduates have from the public. Our academic program rivals those of the best civilian universities. Private companies will be begging to have graduates work for them, if for nothing else but the prestige of an Academy graduate on their payroll. Reservists will enjoy the same respect as an officer.”
"Except that they won't be officers," stressed McLeeland.
The instructors talked amongst themselves and offered their opinions about the new program. Mortino gave them a moment to digest the information before continuing the meeting.
“I understand some of you may have the same concerns as Professor McLeeland, but the decision has been made. The command council has asked for your support in helping these seniors transition into the program.”
“I notice John Roberts on the list,” said Marcus. “Is there a particular reason why?”
Mortino cleared his throat. He had hoped no one would have noticed that cadet's name on the list, but he knew someone was bound to point it out. “It was decided that Cadet Roberts would be a better fit for the reservist program.”
“The most intelligent cadet ever to come through the Academy isn’t officer material?” asked McLeeland. She never minced words, always going straight to the point. “I know everyone here has had their own experience with him, especially you superintendent. But punishing him by denying him a place in the fleet is a bit petty.”
“It’s no secret that Cadet Roberts has been a difficult student for us. A TERRA officer has to respect the chain of command and his peers. Cadet Roberts does neither. He openly mocks TERRA’s philosophy and our methods. With placement in the fleet mandated to be cut we cannot afford to waste space on individuals who may prove to be a disruption where they are assigned. I am not concerned about Cadet Roberts. With his intelligence he will undoubtedly have the choice of any job in the private sector.”
“Our students aren’t here to get rich in the private sector,” piped up the usually quiet field maintenance instructor Alfred Hither. “They come here so that they can serve in the fleet. As Professor McLeeland pointed out, they sacrificed a lot to make it to the Academy.”
“They will continue to serve TERRA, just in an auxiliary capacity,” said Mortino. His patience trying to appease the faculty's questions was coming to an end. “The purpose of this meeting was to inform you of the program. The debate on its merits has already been thoroughly discussed by the command council. Our job is to provide a united front and support it when it goes public Monday. I don’t want to keep you any longer as I’m sure you’re all anxious to see your families.”
Mortino was always good at politely telling people to get the hell out. He was a natural politician which is why he was considered one of the best superintendents to run the Academy. He knew how to get things done and how to deal with people.
The faculty got up and filed out of the conference room, talking with one another as they left. McLeeland approached Mortino as he was gathering his papers. “Who has the fortune of informing the selected cadets about this?”
“The cadets will be informed of their assignment no differently than those entering the fleet.” Graduating cadets were informed of their assignments the first week in May each year.
“Even Cadet Roberts? Seems to me he deserves better than a letter delivered to him by a mail bot.”
“I suspect he will not take the news lightly, which is why I will be informing him personally today.”
“Don’t try to enjoy it too much, Paul,” remarked McLeeland. "Despite what you told everyone, it will appear that Cadet Roberts was selected out of spite." Without waiting for Mortino to respond she turned and left the conference room.
She was right. Mortino had chosen John because of all the trouble he had caused. He had humiliated and undermined Mortino's authority these past four years, and no one gets away with crossing him. The superintendent bided his time to get back at Cadet Roberts and thankfully the time had finally arrived.
CHAPTER TWO
John looked at the large analog clock on the campus tower to check the time. It was fifteen minutes past two o'clock. He was already late for his meeting with Mortino. He had lost track of time letting his mind wander, something he was in the frequent habit of doing. For most students the end of final exams was a huge weight off their shoulders, but not for John. He never worried about exams and never stressed about any of his classes. He studied little and walked into class knowing he could pass any test presented to him.
John's mind was preoccupied with the upcoming spring semester and it wasn't regarding a fleet posting. The young man had already resigned himself that he was never going to get one. In May, the seniors would be notified of their placement in the fleet and John was going over the possibilities of where TERRA might put him.
Cadets could submit requests for assignments with the placement board, to let them know what career track they wanted to pursue. John had made a request to serve on a capital ship, but he didn't specify a position. He didn't care if he was assigned to sweeping the decks or unclogging toilets as long as he was on a ship.
For years John dreamed of living in space and the only option available was a position on one of TERRA's five capital ships. He wasn't expecting to get a desirable position if he was posted to one. The evaluations on his transcripts were less than stellar, but his grades in ship operations, starship design, and engineering were top notch. He thought that after twenty or so years, when his reputation at the Academy had faded, he would have a chance to command a capital ship. Maybe by then humans would be exploring space outside the solar system, but that was a silly thought. John believed that an assignment to a capital ship was a realistic goal, but venturing into deep space? That was an entirely different matter. Deep space exploration was not a possibility with the threat of the Screen looming over humanity.
John finished his lunch and got up from his seat on the bench. He threw the leftovers in the trash bin and brushed off the crumbs from his uniform. He was prepared for another encounter with Mr. High-and-Mighty. Roberts and Mortino had a mutual dislike for one another and that was putting it politely. John had wound up in the superintendent’s office numerous times over the course of his time at the Academy. It was rumored that John held the Academy record of most times sent to the superintendent's office.
Mortino had threatened to expel John on more than one occasion, saying he couldn’t hide behind the safety of his good grades forever. It was a privilege to attend the
Academy and every teenager on Earth, Luna, and Mars competed fiercely to earn a spot on the freshman class roster. Usually at that point in the lecture John would roll his eyes, making sure Mortino saw to incense him further, and tune him out. John would make an obnoxious grin while Mortino spouted his holier-than-thou TERRA philosophy and what it meant to be an officer. He was certain that Mortino's evaluation of John was the most scathing in his records.
John trekked slowly across campus to the administration building as he thought about the superintendent. The campus itself was a scientific wonder. Every conceivable plant life on Earth was displayed here. Plants that couldn’t thrive on the campus grounds were housed in one of four large crystal domes that sat at each corner of the campus. The domes were fifty stories tall and served as a physical marker to locate the campus from the air. The domes were all interconnected by walls that were actually buildings. It gave the feeling that the campus was a fortified installation. The building at the north entrance was split in two where the entry gate was located.
John reached the eastern wall which was the administration building. It was composed of a polysynthetic glass which acted as a large mirror. The inner wall was red brick that composed actual building. A line of windows stretched across it, allowing those inside to watch who was coming in or out. Unfortunately, Superintendent Mortino’s office was one of the offices located on the inner side of the building so John felt Mortino had the advantage of seeing the young cadet approaching. The first thing Mortino would probably comment on would be the casual pace John was walking which caused him to be late.
A few jumps up some small steps and John was at the main entrance to the building. He gripped one of the door handles with his hand and held it there for a moment. He took a deep breath, trying to expel the nervousness in his body. He would never admit it to anyone, but he always got butterflies in his stomach prior to any meeting with Mortino. It wasn’t that he was intimidated by the superintendent. He thought Mortino was nothing more than a puppet who couldn’t handle a crisis in the real world. It was just one of those things he couldn’t explain.
John pushed the glass door forward and entered the large, circular lobby. Several snapshots of the campus during its construction adorned the walls, each with a brief description of the year it was taken and what the photo depicted. People entering the lobby immediately zeroed in on the receptionist area at the center. Like the lobby itself the reception desk was round. It was elevated to the chest level of most students so the receptionists had to look up at visitors to speak with them.
Sally Cornich was the head receptionist here. She worked at the school for the past seventeen years and had become a permanent fixture at the Academy. She excelled at her job, unlike the other two receptionists she oversaw. Sally didn’t need to consult the directory when a visitor checked in. She knew the names of every administrator and instructor on campus, the layout of the campus, and possessed comprehensive knowledge of the school's academic programs. It wasn’t unheard of for students to get Sally’s advice on their choice of courses when they were unsure of the information given to them by their academic advisors. She had a pleasant personality no matter who she dealt with and could turn a person's bad mood into a positive outlook. Students generally considered her the mother on campus.
Two of Sally's kids had gone through the Academy and were now members of TERRA themselves, but she never talked much about them. Any parent with a son or daughter in TERRA made sure everyone knew it. It was simply too great an accomplishment to keep under wraps. Yet for some reason Sally never discussed her kids. She was a widow and rumors circulated that her husband died while serving in TERRA. But no one could even verify if that was true. No student ever asked about her family as no one wanted to risk offending her.
Sally was always supportive and positive to the students here. She considered them her extended family and would do whatever she could to help them through their years here and John was no exception. Whenever he was summoned to see the superintendent Sally would always say, “You’re such a good boy, why must trouble always find you?” As if John was innocent of everything he did and merely a victim of circumstance. But she never frowned upon him. She gave him a big hug after every reprimand, telling John everything would be fine. Her positive demeanor was an antidote to Mortino's harsh words.
Sally’s bubbly personality was no different today. She was by herself, having let the other two receptionists take the day off. The lobby was deserted, not a soul to be seen anywhere. The students had long since vacated the campus with celebrations already underway throughout the city. John likened the empty campus to a Screen alert which the campus underwent once a year. When the alarms went off the students and faculty headed to one of the numerous underground shelters, leaving the topside of the campus deserted.
During his second year John decided to go against protocol and did not proceed to a bunker. As the alert sounded off he snuck away and hid in the bathroom while his starship design class joined the rest of campus underground. After about fifteen minutes of hiding John headed outside onto the grounds. It was eerily quiet as the entire top level was devoid of people. Even the campus bots were programmed to head to their stations and shut down during the drill. John meandered down to the center tower and even took a couple pictures of himself alone on the grounds with his DAT. He was sure no one would catch him and that he would just rejoin the other students as they emerged from the bunkers. Unfortunately, John didn’t know that a TERRA fighter squadron did reconnaissance sweeps over the campus during the drill and they locked onto John when their scanners picked up the only human life sign topside of the campus.
John never saw Mortino so angry. He was surprised the superintendent didn’t blow a blood vessel. Mortino rambled on about TERRA ethics and standards, his arms waving wildly as he stomped around his office swearing numerous times that John had ended his career with that stunt. But strangely a day after the drill Mortino changed his tune and instead of being expelled John was disciplined by working a week in the campus kitchen. John was surprised by this seemingly change of heart and he wasn't the only one. Everyone expected him to be booted from the Academy and for weeks rumors circulated what John did to avoid expulsion. His favorite rumor was that his father was actually an admiral on the council and smoothed things over with Mortino. Not a lot of people knew that John's parents had been dead for years.
“Good afternoon John,” said Sally, interrupting John as he reminisced about that incident. “Finals go well for you?”
“I did ok.” He leaned up on the desk. “How bad is it?” referring to Mortino’s demeanor.
“He’s actually in a very good mood,” answered Sally as she scratched her curly red hair with her stylus. “He finished a staff meeting not too long ago and seems quite upbeat. I don’t think you have to worry.”
John smiled. “I never have anything to worry about.”
Sally chuckled and patted John on the cheek. “You’re such a good boy. Why does trouble always follow you around?”
“Dumb luck I guess.”
“I’m sure he saw you coming. Go on in,” said Sally, waving John towards the hall. “And good luck.”
John gave Sally a quick smile before heading down the hallway. Mortino’s office was the first one on the left side, so it wasn't much of a long walk. John reached the door and knocked, not wanting to stall any longer. His mind was already shifting to getting over to the bar for some fun. John may not have been stressed with finals exams but he still had some steam to blow off that only a night of drinking could handle.
“Come in,” came the sound of Mortino’s voice behind the door. John always shuddered hearing that snotty tone of the superintendent's voice. He took a deep breath, turned the knob and opened the door.
Mortino’s office was well decorated as the superintendent was an enthusiastic fan of various forms of artwork. Paintings and sculptures littered his office, but not to the extent that it looked cluttered. As one entered the office
Mortino’s desk sat to the right of the room. It was a large redwood desk, a classic piece of carpentry that was made sometime in the early 21st century. The wall behind the desk was a bookshelf and was filled to the brim with books ranging from philosophy, TERRA tactical manuals, and literature from some of history’s famous writers. John wondered if Mortino actually kept the books in some sort of order, but never had a chance to carry on a civilized conversation with him long enough to find out. John thought it would be a great prank to break in and rearrange the books on the shelf, maybe throw in a few DATs loaded with pornography. It would be a great farewell senior graduation prank.
On the other side of the room sat a dark brown leather couch that ran the length of most of the wall. Adjacent to the couch was a table, similar in color to the couch, where a lamp and several pictures of Mortino’s family were arranged. The pictures were of his wife and two daughters. John never met them, but he assumed the daughters were probably bitches and the wife some upper-class socialite who flashed a phony smile whenever in public. He disliked Mortino so much that any family member of the superintendent had to be as despicable as him.
As John entered the office he saw that Mortino was standing in front of his office window looking out at the campus. His hands were clasped behind his back, looking aristocratic as ever. He didn’t turn when John walked in so the cadet announced himself.
“You wanted to see me, superintendent?”
“You seemed to have forgotten that we had an appointment at two, Mr. Roberts.”
“No, I didn’t forget,” replied John in a matter-of-fact tone. John decided to start Mortino’s vacation off to a good start by getting him mad. He watched the superintendent slowly walk over to his desk and sit down.
“Have a seat cadet,” Mortino said as he reclined in his chair. He didn’t seem to react to John’s comment which disappointed the cadet.
John sat in one of the two chairs that faced the superintendent’s desk. Roberts watched as Mortino picked up a DAT. These small rectangular computer devices had replaced paper in TERRA as the primary form of holding information. John observed Mortino as he read his DAT. At first he was curious at what the superintendent was looking up, but his mind slowly gravitated towards the older man’s head. John couldn't help but stare at the large bald spot, Mortino’s gray hair now covering only the sides of his head. John prided himself on thinking he helped accelerate Mortino's baldness.
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