"More than that, to the members of the Patrol singly and together is entrusted such awful force as may compel or destroy, all other force we know of-and with this trust is laid on them the charge to keep the peace of the System and to protect the liberties of its peoples. They are soldiers of freedom.
"It is not enough that you be skillful, clever, brave- The trustees of this awful power must each possess a meticulous sense of honor, self-discipline beyond all ambition, conceit, or avarice, respect for the liberties and dignity of all creatures, and an unyielding will to do justice and give mercy. He must be a true and gentle knight."
He stopped and there was no sound at all in the huge room. Then he said, "Let those who are prepared to take the oath be mustered."
The cadet who had been acting as adjutant stepped forward briskly. "Adams!"
"Uh-here, sir!" A candidate trotted across the room.
"Akbar."
"Here!"
"Alvarado-"
"Anderson, Peter-"
"Anderson, John-"
"Angelico-"
Then, presently, it was, "Dana-Delacroix-DeWitt-Diaz -Dobbs," and "Dodson!"
"Here!" .shouted Matt. His voice squeaked but no one laughed. He hurried over to the other side, found a place and waited, panting. The muster went on:
"Eddy-Eisenhower-Ericsson-" Boys trickled across the room until few were left. "Sforza, Stanley, Suliman," and then, finally: "Zahm!" The last candidate joined his fellows.
But the cadet did not stop. "Dahlquistl" he called out.
There was no answer.
"Dahlquist!" he repeated. "Ezra Dahlquist!"
Matt felt cold prickles around his scalp. He recognized the name now-but Dahlquist would not be here, not Ezra Dahlquist. Matt was sure of that, for he remembered an alcove in the rotunda, a young man in a picture, and the hot, bright sand of the Moon.
There was a stir in the rank behind him. A candidate pushed his way through and stepped forward. "I answer for Ezra Dahlquist!"
"Martin!"
This time there was no hesitation. He heard Tex's voice, his tone shrilclass="underline" "I answer for him."
"Rivera."
A strong baritone: "Answering for Rivera!"
"Wheeler!"
"I answer for Wheeler."
The cadet turned toward the Commandant and saluted:
"All present, sir. Class of 2075, First Muster complete."
The man in black returned the salute. "Very well, sir. We will proceed with the oath." He stepped forward to the very edge of the platform, the cadet at his elbow. "Raise your right hands."
The Commandant raised his own hand. "Repeat after me: Of my own free will, without reservation-"
" 'Of my own free will, without reservation-' "
"I swear to uphold the peace of the Solar System-"
In chorus they followed him.
"-to protect the lawful liberties of its inhabitants-
"-to defend the constitution of the Solar Federation-
"-to carry out the duties of the position to which I am now appointed-
"-and to obey the lawful orders of my superior officers,
"To these ends I subordinate all other loyalties and renounce utterly any that may conflict with them.
"This I solemnly affirm in the Name I hold most sacred."
"So help me, God," concluded the Commandant. Matt repeated his words, but the response around him took a dozen different forms, in nearly as many languages.
The Commandant turned his head to the cadet by his side. "Dismiss them, sir."
"Aye aye, sir." The cadet raised his voice. "On being dismissed, face to the right and file out. Maintain your formation until clear of the door. Dismissed!"
At the cue of his command, music swelled out and filled the hall; the newly created cadets marched away to the strains of the Patrol's own air, The Long Watch. It persisted until the last of them were gone, then faded out.
The Commandant waited until the youngster cadets had left, then faced around. His aide joined him at once, whereupon the acting cadet adjutant moved quickly from his side. Commodore Arkwright turned toward the departing cadet. "Mr. Barnes."
"Yes, sir?"
"Are you ready to be commissioned?"
"Er- I don't think so, sir. Not quite."
"So? Well, come see me soon."
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
The Commodore turned away and headed rapidly for the stage exit, with his aide's sleeve brushing his. "Well, John," asked the senior, "What did you think of them?"
"A fine bunch of boys, sir."
"That was my impression. All youth and eagerness and young expectation. But how many of them will we have to eliminate? It's a sorry thing, John, to take a boy and change him so that he is no longer a civilian, then kick him out. It's the crudest duty we have to perform."
"I don't see a way to avoid it."
"There is no way. If we had some magic touchstone- Tell the field that I want to raise ship in thirty minutes."
"Aye aye, sir."
V INTO SPACE
The PATROL ACADEMY may lack ivy-covered buildings and tree-shaded walks; it does not lack room. There are cadets in every reach of the Federation, from ships circling Venus, or mapping the scorched earth of Mercury, to ships patrolling the Jovian moons.
Even on years-long exploration flights to the frozen fringes of the Solar System cadets go along-and are brevetted as officers when their captains think them ready, without waiting to return.
The public thinks of the Academy as the school ship P.R.S. James Randolph, but every cadet mess in every ship of the Patrol is part of the Academy. A youngster cadet is ordered to the Randolph as soon as he is sworn in and he remains attached to that ship until he is ready to go to a regular Patrol vessel as a passed cadet. His schooling continues; in time he is ordered back to where he started, Hayworth Hall, to receive Ms final polish.
An oldster, attached to Hayworth Hall, will not necessarily be there. He may be at the radiation laboratories of Oxford University, or studying interplanetary law at the Sorbonne, or he may even be as far away as Venus, at the Institute for System Studies. Whatever his route-and no two cadets pursue exactly the same course of training-the Academy is still in charge of him, until, and if, he is commissioned.
How long it takes depends on the cadet. Brilliant young Hartstone, who died on the first expedition to Pluto, was brevetted less than a year after he reported to Hayworth Hall as a groundhog candidate. But it is not unusual to find oldsters at Terra Base who have been cadets for five years or more.
Cadet Matthew Dodson admired himself in the mirror of the 'fresher. The oyster-white uniform he had found waiting when he returned from First Muster the evening before, and with it a small book of regulations embossed with his name and clipped to a new assignment schedule. The schedule had started out: "1.. Your first duty as a cadet is to read the regulation book herewith, at once. Hereafter you are responsible for the contents."
He had read it before taps, until his mind was a jumble of undigested rules: "A cadet is an officer in a limited sense-" "-behave with decorum and sobriety appropriate to the occasion-" "-in accordance with local custom rather than Patrol custom unless in conflict with an invariant law of the Federation or regulation of the Patrol." "-but the responsibility of determining the legality of the order rests on the person ordered as well as on the person giving the order." "-circumstances not covered by law or regulation must be decided by the individual in the light of the living tradition of the Patrol." "Cadets will at all times be smooth-shaven and will not wear their hair longer than two inches."
He felt that he understood the last mentioned.
He got up before reveille the next morning and dived into the 'fresher, shaved hastily and rather unnecessarily and got into uniform.
It fit him well enough, but to his eye the fit was perfect, the styling superb. As a matter of fact, the uniform lacked style, decoration, trim, insignia, or flattering’ cut.