Frontier: Book One - The Space Cadets (2 page)

The man lowered his tablet and
pointed to a silver dot on the horizon.

“
That
’
s a
shuttle right there,” he said. “And if you look closely you can see
the cable that makes up the Space Elevator.”

Even the words sounded amazing to
her. The
Space Elevator
. Since the invention of materials
with the requisite strength in low-enough density to make the
concept buildable, many nations had gathered together to build this
one. The idea was simple. Tether a cable on the Earth near the
equator, and extend it out into space for about 35,000 kilometers.
The object on the far end of the cable would then be in
geostationary orbit, always above the same position on the Earth,
much like communications or TV satellites.

She peered, trying to make out the
cable, but it was just too skinny to be seen from this distance --
except the occasional glint as the tropical sun reflected off
it.

Because the cable was tethered to
the surface of the Earth, the rotation of the planet would send any
object attached to the cable flying out from the center of gravity,
propelling it into space. Once it reached the top of the cable, it
could then launch itself outward, using a tiny fraction of the fuel
that a traditional rocket launch would use up.

Almost overnight, it had
revolutionized space travel. One of the first things the
international community had agreed upon was to build an academy.
Its goal: To teach a new generation of humans what it would be like
to have a single, coherent community, not hindered by the tropes of
the past. Ultimately, such a community would be the future of
mankind, its backers had argued, and would put an end to the wars
that nearly destroyed us all.

Aisha opened her locket and looked
at his face, trying to remember him. Ravaged by cancers from
radiation suffered in war, her father died before she reached her
first birthday. He smiled back at her from the tiny picture, and
she could see the pride in his smile.

I did it, Dad. I made it into
space, and I made sure that you would never be forgotten. That the
next phase of humanity will have a little part of you in it. That
was worth fighting for. I just wish you didn
’
t have to die for it.

The plane jolted as it began to
descend, waking Mother.

“
Are we there yet?”

Aisha smiled to herself.
“We
’
re almost at the Terminus.”

Mother smiled and looked at the
man sitting across from Aisha. “She
’
s
going to the Space Academy, you know,” she said,
smiling.

The man nodded. “You must be so
proud.”

“
Oh, I am,
”
said Mother.
“
She
’
ll always be my little girl, but to
be the first African-American, and one of the first girls up there,
it
’
s so
exciting.
”

“
I’
m
sure,” said the man. “I think she
’
ll do
amazing things.”

“
Aww, you
’
re so nice,” said Mother, milking the compliment for
all it was worth.

He said nothing and went back to
reading.

Irked, mother looked around for
someone else to impress. The plane lurched again, so she closed her
eyes instead, fighting back airsickness. Mother was never good at
flying.

Aisha turned back to the window,
catching the man
’
s eye with his small
smile. He nodded at her, and she returned the gesture.

The ground rushed at them, and
with a jolt they landed on the small airstrip. Since the
construction of the Space Elevator had begun, this tiny island had
changed from being a rock in the middle of the ocean to a thriving
miniature city. But land was at a premium, so all passenger
transport still came through the tiny airstrip on the western side.
Aisha had read that a new floating airport was under construction.
When it opened, the island would be connected directly to the
mainland of the USA and other countries, instead of needing a
transport plane like this one flown out of Hawaii.

As she got out of the plane, Aisha
could feel the warm breeze and hear the crash of the surf. A rocky
beach lay just to her right, within walking distance of the
airstrip. Mother emerged, blinking in the bright light. A
representative of the Academy greeted them, and led them towards a
small set of prefabricated buildings that served as the
registration center.

A tiny look of disappointment
crossed Mother
’
s face. Aisha rolled her
eyes. Mother was probably expecting more press to meet them here,
presumably not having enough of them in Hawaii.

The only cadet on the arriving
flight, Aisha strolled after the greeter, calling for Mother to
keep up. The warm humid air felt good in her lungs. For the next
few years she would be breathing processed air in the space
station, so she wanted to make the most of it.

She wondered if there would be
time for the beach.

The administrative center was as
plain on the inside as it was on the outside. A threadbare box, it
housed several desks at which sat tired-looking administrators
swiping through computer terminals.

The greeter read
Mother
’
s
disappointed gaze.
“
Here
’
s
where we just make sure you are who you say you are before taking
the boat across to the Elevator. It helps us make sure that people
don
’
t sneak
aboard.
”

Mother raised her eyebrows. “What
kind of people sneak aboard? Terrorists? It doesn
’
t look like
you
could stop them!”

The greeter smiled a little, and
to Aisha it looked practiced. “No terrorist could get within a
thousand miles of this place. No, we
’
re
more concerned about curious onlookers, too many relatives of
cadets, that type of thing.”

His words confused Aisha. How
could a terrorist be stopped from getting here, when just about
anybody could fly here, including too many family members? Was it
all a front, or were they profiling everything about every person
who even tried to come to this place?

She held her tongue. If Mother
thought there was any profiling going on, she
’
d launch into one of her rants.

“
I hear the hotel is very nice,”
Aisha said, changing the subject.

“
Yes,” said the greeter. “We want
your last night on planet Earth to be special.”

“
But she
’
ll be coming back, for vacations and the like,” said
Mother. “So it
’
s hardly her
last
night.”

“
Of course,” said the greeter,
smiling, before ushering them to a desk where the clerk had finally
booted up his screen.

“
You
’
re our last flight of the day
today,
”
he said
cheerfully.
“
But
don
’
t worry - you
aren
’
t the only
launchie. The others are at the Terminus ahead of you, so
you
’
ll have
plenty of friends for the ride up.
”

Aisha smiled.
She didn
’
t really
need friends, but it was best not to argue.

“
Ah Miss Parks,” he continued,
checking her credentials. “I heard you were coming today,
it
’
s very nice to have you
aboard.”

“
Thanks,
”
said Aisha.
“
But I just want to be like any
other student.
”

“
Yes,” he continued. “The media
have made a big deal about it down here, but once you get up there,
all that will be forgotten.”

Mother piqued up.
“What?”

“
We try to keep the kids insulated
from political and social matters down on Earth,” he said in a
trained voice. “That way they can focus on their work.”

“
But she is the first
African-American to be accepted since open enrollment. Not only
that, she
’
s one of the first girls. That
makes her very important.”

“
Ma
’
am,”
said the receptionist. “Your daughter is extremely important, and
in time you
’
ll find it
’
s not for
those
reasons, but for who she is
and what she
’
s capable of doing. Her race,
her gender, those things don
’
t
matter.”

“
But she is the
first
African-American--”

The man interrupted, albeit
politely. “Of course,” he said. “And the press at Terminus will
want to ask you all about that.”

There are so many things I’ve
learned since I broke away from the cocoon that we call our
country. It’s a great place, a safe place, but perhaps it’s because
of that safety that we look inward.

And in the case of too many
people, we look backward.

Future dreams will never last if
we always focus on the past. On the terrible things that were done
to our ancestors. If we are to look forward, we should remember
them, but not dwell on them…

Terminus
, the massive
flotilla
that surrounded the Space
Elevator, was too mobile to be called a city in its purest sense.
But for all intents and purposes, it was one. Their hotel was the
finest Aisha had ever slept in, with big, comfortable beds and a
wonderful breakfast. The slight rocking of their room caused by the
waves only further lulled her to sleep.

So it was in fine cheer that she
greeted the press conference, the crankiness of travel a distant
memory.

Before long, she was biting her
lip, trying not to snap at the monotony and repetition of the
questions that were largely irrelevant to her future as a space
cadet.

“
What
’
s
it like being the first African-American to qualify through open
enrollment?”

“
It
’
s great, but I
can
’
t really
answer what it
’
s
like until I go up there. But I
’
m looking forward to it, and hoping
I can be an effective student.
”

She watched as the reporters took
notes, unhappy with such a straightforward statement. There was no
story
there.

“
How do you think you are going to
cope with the pressure?”

“
Until I know what the pressure is,
it
’
s hard to
answer that question. I
’
m sure I will handle it the same
way as any other student.
”

One of the
reporters, a white man whose hair was whiter than his skin,
interrupted.
“
But
you aren
’
t like
the other students, are you?
”

“
Why would you say
that?”

“
Because you are the first
African-American student to qualify through open
enrollment.”

Aisha could feel her anger rising.
She tried to keep her calm as she answered evenly, “How does that
make me different from the other students?”

“
Please,” said the man. “We all
see how politically
correct
this situation is. There has
been so much pressure on the board of governors to open enroll from
amongst the general population so that we can meet political needs
of diversity. So, of course, the first thing we need to do is to
have some African-Americans amongst the student body. And while
we
’
re at it, why don
’
t we get a
girl
, so we kill two proverbial
birds with one proverbial stone. Let
’
s
also find one who lost a father in the second Korean War!
Isn
’
t it obvious to you that you have been
picked for all of these reasons and that you are going into orbit
to be in a place where you are likely to be out of your depth, but
will probably be handled by kid gloves, so as to satisfy those who
are bearing political pressures?”

Aisha felt her jaw drop. Even
Mother was stunned into silence. The worst part, though, was that
in a room full of people, many of whom were African-American,
nobody leapt to her defense. Instead the press turned to her,
recorders pointed in her direction, awaiting her answer.

What a bunch of sharks!

She could feel herself begin to
sweat as all eyes turned her way. Time slowed to a crawl as they
awaited an answer. With every passing tick, and nothing to say in
response, she began to wonder if the man was right. If she really
was out of her depth. If she really didn
’
t
belong here, and she was just fooling herself. Maybe she
wasn
’
t as smart or as capable as she
thought she was.