“Yes, sir,” Paul said. Will was still at attention, eyes front, but he could hear Paul’s smile in his voice.
“But, sir—” he began.
“Just say ‘yes, sir,’ ” Paul instructed him.
“Yes, sir,” Will repeated, catching on. “And thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me,” Admiral Paris said. “Just stay out of trouble. A few more months, okay? I think even you two can do that.”
“Yes, sir,” both cadets responded.
“You are dismissed,” Superintendent Vyrek said from her desk. Her voice was weary. Will suspected he’d be weary too if he had to deal with cadets like himself all the time.
Outside, Felicia waited for him. She ran to him when he exited the building, arms wide, and he caught her in his own and scooped her up. “A reprimand in my file,” he said. “And Paris raised my survival grade.”
“So it’s celebrating and not consoling?”
“That’s right,” he affirmed.
“Oh, goody,” Felicia said. She nuzzled against Will’s neck and nipped the flesh there with her teeth. “Then I can tell you what I was suggesting earlier.”
“I’m not sure we need to really talk about it,” Will said, his lips urgently seeking hers. “In fact,” he mumbled against her mouth, “talking may even be counterproductive.”
Felicia broke away from him and started to run. “Oh, we can talk,” she shouted back over her shoulder. “Until we get back to my room. After that, I think we’ll be much too busy.”
And she was right.
Chapter 26
The last couple of months, Will had learned, were definitely the hardest. He had heard about schools where students could basically skate through their last year, but Starfleet Academy was not one of those. Here, course work got progressively more difficult from the beginning to the end. When he was finished at the Academy, a cadet needed to be able to step from the campus onto a starship or starbase, where the lives of others might depend on his knowledge, experience, and reactions. There could be no slacking off.
So he saw Felicia when he could, but mostly he bore down and worked. He closed himself in his room when he wasn’t at classes, usually alone—because when Felicia was there, they found it hard to focus on their work—and studied. He had, for the time being, set aside most other activities. Outings with friends, athletics beyond a minimal daily workout ... those were important but not as important as making up the grade handicap that had been with him from his first year. He had made great progress, he knew. His grades had improved every year, and he’d become much more confident in his own abilities. But he still had those lousy first-year grades on his record, and if he was to be satisfied in his own performance he wanted to balance them out with exceptional grades this time.
He was in his room, as usual, the night Dennis Haynes knocked on his door in something like a panic. The rapid-fire pounding startled Will, who was deeply immersed in a text on the geological specifications of Class-G planets of the Ophiucus sector. He pushed himself away from the desk, still caught somewhere between two worlds, his eyes not wanting to leave the computer screen because he didn’t want to have to find his place again in the discussion of the effect of cooling magmas on crystallization processes. Finally he forced himself to abandon the screen because he knew the door was locked. Specifically so I wouldn’t be bothered,he thought, so how well did that work?
When he opened the door Dennis stood there, his face flushed as if he’d been running, his brow wrinkled, mouth turned down in a frown. “I can’t do this, Will,” Dennis said without preface. “I just can’t do it.”
Will, tempted to simply close the door and go back to his work, instead waved Dennis in. “Can’t do what?” he asked reflexively, thinking, Don’t ask, because he’ll only want to tell you and then you’re stuck.
“This. The work. The Academy. Any of it.” Dennis’s words gushed out of him like water from a broken pipe.
“Calm down, Dennis. Have a seat.” Will closed the door and ushered Dennis to the couch. He put his hands on Dennis’s shoulders and pushed his friend down, then pulled up the chair he’d been using at the computer, turned it around, and straddled the back of it, facing Dennis. “What’s the problem?”
“I am so far behind,” Dennis said. “I’m so stuck, and I just can’t seem to understand anything anymore. I can’t catch up with anything. I can’t grasp whatever it is we’re supposed to be learning, and the more I try the more I worry that I’m not getting it. And if I don’t get it, then I don’t belong here.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Will said with a smile, hoping to cajole Dennis back into making some kind of sense. “But it’s probably not as bad as you think. You’re just getting nervous.”
Dennis shook his head vigorously. “I’m beyond nervous, Will. Nervous was months ago. I’m way past that. I’m into terrified now. Petrified.”
“You need to relax, that’s all,” Will said. “When was the last time you went out and had some fun?”
“There’s no time for fun, Will,” Dennis insisted, shaking his head again. “I need to work every waking hour or I’m just not going to make it. And I can’t do that, because there are classes, and then if I forget to eat, then I get weak, and ...”
Will found himself saddened and appalled at the same time. “Dennis, you’ve got to eat. You’ve got to take care of yourself. You can’t possibly keep up with the work if you’re not in your best physical condition. You can’t skip meals.”
“I have to, Will,” Dennis said. “It’s easy for you—”
“No it’s not.”
“Easier, then. For you and the others. For Estresor Fil, the course work is a breeze. Even Felicia. But for me, I don’t know, it just doesn’t sink in. This stuff doesn’t come naturally. My dad’s a farmer, you know? Maybe I’ve got dirt in my veins.”
“You have blood, same as everyone else,” Will replied. Then, remembering some of the more alien types around, he amended himself. “Well, nearly everyone.”
“It doesn’t seem like I have much in common with anyone,” Dennis continued. Will didn’t think he was even listening anymore, just venting. “It’s so much harder for me than for anyone else. There’s so much of it that I just don’t get. I wish I did—I want to serve. I want to be out there, you know, exploring new worlds. I have so much curiosity about the galaxy—”
“Then you have what you need,” Will interrupted, his own work forgotten for now. “You can pick up the rest. You have the drive, the courage, the desire, Dennis. The learning and experience can be taught, but the things you have, that’ll make you an asset to Starfleet, are the things that can’t be taught. If you didn’t have those I’d agree that you’re a hopeless case, but you do.”
“ Youthink I do. I used to think so. Now I’m not so sure.”
Will threw up his hands. “I don’t know what you want, Dennis.” He rose and paced around the room. “You want me to tell you that you’re doomed? That you should just drop out now? Because I’d be lying if I did that. I don’t believe that.”
Dennis’s gaze followed Will as he walked, his face crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Will. I shouldn’t even have bothered you.” He glanced at the computer. “I know you’re busy too.”
“You’re my friend, Dennis,” Will said. “There’s no such thing as too busy for a friend.”
“Thanks, Will.”
“So is there any way I can help you?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Dennis said. “I was hoping you could tutor me.”
“Tutor?” Will echoed. His first thought was just how time-intensive that would be, if Dennis was really as far behind as he claimed. “I don’t know if I’m the best guy for that.”