cadets. The other non-Earthers liked her and the Earthers didn’t regard her with any more disdain than they held for other half-spetchers.
Either way, no one who encountered her in the earliest days of Caroline's tenure at the Academy thought she was much of a threat to graduate, much less make a strong showing.
It was pure miscalculation.
She had the benefit of a voracious determination inherited from her father. Andrew Dahl's sheer force of will. As shortcomings in physical strength, dexterity and hand-to-hand combat took their toll, Caroline mined the memories of her father, frustratingly, angrily stumped over some engineering or maintenance issue. She remembered the faraway stare, the light biting of his right thumb, almost in rhythmic fashion as he sat or stood, internally chasing the solution anywhere he might catch the scent. Days or weeks could pass with such determination, such intensity that it seemed impossible to maintain. Others in the HSPB maintenance depot would be willing to give up. Andrew Dahl would not. She couldn’t recall a single situation in which he failed to ultimately reach the solution.
Gregor Kimball, lead instructor in physical disciplines, perpetually preached to his cadets in his courses on Sofun Reyeg (the HSPB brand of hand-to-hand tactics) that practice was the most important element. The Earthers, many of whom had spent several years in schools that taught Sofun Reyeg before coming to the Academy, felt that they had already put in their practice.
Conversely, the non-Earthers tended to have an approach of trying to do well, but not appearing to work too hard at it, lest they be perceived by Earthers as attempting to step beyond their station in the ‘natural order’.
Caroline had no intention of conceding anything. She would use the Sofun Reyeg simulators during off-hours, when no one else was in the training section. She took blows and bruises – a necessary price to pay for real improvement. And, when she volunteered to face off against Leopold Doone, the Earther whose skill in Sofun Reyeg was generally accepted as superior to any other in the class, the time and pain produced dividends.
“Cadet Dahl has shown us why this is a three-year program,” announced Kimball as Caroline stood over the shaken figure of Doone, a victim of her “whip” takedown and roto-kick to the solar plexus. “Improvement is the point, ladies and gentlemen. Cadet Doone is very, very good – as good as he was week one of the program…and no better. Cadet Dahl has improved considerably.”
At the end of their final year, Doone trailed only Caroline in the class rankings. The first time a non-Earther had ever finished atop a graduating Academy class: highly admired by other non-Earthers who had come through the program; not likely to be forgotten by Earth-born cadets and agents.
V V V V
Once the shift in the comms wedge ended, Caroline returned to her quarters. She sat upright on one of her deep-back chairs, staring at Roland’s empty perch, wondering what to do with it. She was only fifteen minutes into this ‘alone time’ when someone was at her door. It was Stovall.
“A few of us are jumping over to Ell-C. You should join us.”
She shook her head. No point, really. She’d never enjoy herself.
"Come on. All you’re going to do here is walk in circles. The smell’s still in the air. Get it out of your nostrils for awhile.”
In a way, Ell-C would be the ideal site for an evening of leisure. It was the one place half-spetchers could go on Luna and be certain to not encounter a
Either way, no one who encountered her in the earliest days of Caroline's tenure at the Academy thought she was much of a threat to graduate, much less make a strong showing.
It was pure miscalculation.
She had the benefit of a voracious determination inherited from her father. Andrew Dahl's sheer force of will. As shortcomings in physical strength, dexterity and hand-to-hand combat took their toll, Caroline mined the memories of her father, frustratingly, angrily stumped over some engineering or maintenance issue. She remembered the faraway stare, the light biting of his right thumb, almost in rhythmic fashion as he sat or stood, internally chasing the solution anywhere he might catch the scent. Days or weeks could pass with such determination, such intensity that it seemed impossible to maintain. Others in the HSPB maintenance depot would be willing to give up. Andrew Dahl would not. She couldn’t recall a single situation in which he failed to ultimately reach the solution.
Gregor Kimball, lead instructor in physical disciplines, perpetually preached to his cadets in his courses on Sofun Reyeg (the HSPB brand of hand-to-hand tactics) that practice was the most important element. The Earthers, many of whom had spent several years in schools that taught Sofun Reyeg before coming to the Academy, felt that they had already put in their practice.
Conversely, the non-Earthers tended to have an approach of trying to do well, but not appearing to work too hard at it, lest they be perceived by Earthers as attempting to step beyond their station in the ‘natural order’.
Caroline had no intention of conceding anything. She would use the Sofun Reyeg simulators during off-hours, when no one else was in the training section. She took blows and bruises – a necessary price to pay for real improvement. And, when she volunteered to face off against Leopold Doone, the Earther whose skill in Sofun Reyeg was generally accepted as superior to any other in the class, the time and pain produced dividends.
“Cadet Dahl has shown us why this is a three-year program,” announced Kimball as Caroline stood over the shaken figure of Doone, a victim of her “whip” takedown and roto-kick to the solar plexus. “Improvement is the point, ladies and gentlemen. Cadet Doone is very, very good – as good as he was week one of the program…and no better. Cadet Dahl has improved considerably.”
At the end of their final year, Doone trailed only Caroline in the class rankings. The first time a non-Earther had ever finished atop a graduating Academy class: highly admired by other non-Earthers who had come through the program; not likely to be forgotten by Earth-born cadets and agents.
V V V V
Once the shift in the comms wedge ended, Caroline returned to her quarters. She sat upright on one of her deep-back chairs, staring at Roland’s empty perch, wondering what to do with it. She was only fifteen minutes into this ‘alone time’ when someone was at her door. It was Stovall.
“A few of us are jumping over to Ell-C. You should join us.”
She shook her head. No point, really. She’d never enjoy herself.
"Come on. All you’re going to do here is walk in circles. The smell’s still in the air. Get it out of your nostrils for awhile.”
In a way, Ell-C would be the ideal site for an evening of leisure. It was the one place half-spetchers could go on Luna and be certain to not encounter a
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