Children of the Fleet (Fleet School #1)(95)

Such were Dabeet’s thoughts as he ate alone in the mess hall. Everybody else was divided into their squads and teams for the coming crisis. And won’t I feel stupid if nothing ever happens? Embarrassed, yes, but relieved.

He also had other scattered thoughts. For instance, he was glad that he hadn’t thrown up in his spacesuit. Atmo suits were claustrophobic and clumsy, but outside the ship it was different. Then he had to deal with vertigo, genuine danger, the momentary terror of being surprised by the terrain. And he never threw up. Never even got nauseated. That was something, wasn’t it? Not a virtue, but … a strength? Maybe a sign that he wasn’t a complete …

It was a sign that he didn’t have to deal with vomit inside his helmet. That’s all it was. No hidden talent suddenly revealed. No path from here to being impressive to anybody. His highest aspiration right now was adequacy, and not puking helped.

And he thought about his schoolwork. That was his refuge. The thing he knew he could do well.

From what he overheard, he had a general idea of the other kids’ strategy. It was all about luring the raiders to the battlerooms, and then … something. At least they weren’t talking about trying to find some weapons stash, probably because they sent everybody through all the hidden corridors one day and didn’t find anything. As if they could possibly match trained soldiers after only a few days or weeks of practice.

Like I’m trying to match trained spacewalkers after …

Not trying to match anybody. Just trying to be adequate.

And thus his mind went round and round.

One conversation that mattered. Zhang He and a couple of other leaders came to his lone table in the mess hall and sat across from him. “What’s the signal?”

“I already told you everything I knew,” said Dabeet. “The complete decipherment of the sole message I’ve received. It told me October 18th but I think they’ll come earlier.”

They pondered that for a moment.

“When?” said one of the boys Dabeet didn’t know.

“Because that’s what I would do.”

“What if they don’t come till after?”

“For all I know, they’ve been caught by authorities on Earth and I’ll never hear from them again. For all I know, the whole thing has been called off. Or maybe they never meant to do it. I don’t know anything beyond what I’ve already told you. I’m not holding anything back.”

“Including what a koncho you are.”

Dabeet said nothing to that. He hadn’t betrayed them. He had warned them. But they’d spin it however they wanted. Arguing wouldn’t change that.

They left him then, and there were no more conversations. When he had cooled down a little, he realized: Zhang He must have already told them this, but the older boys didn’t believe him. They needed to hear it for themselves. Zhang He didn’t think he was holding back.

It came as an announcement on all their desks, during class.





NOTICE


THE FOLLOWING ARE ORDERED TO


EMBARCATION 2 FOR IMMEDIATE





NEW ASSIGNMENT


The list was headed by Urska Kaluza’s name, followed by the names of all the training masters, including Odd Oddson. There was only one student’s name on the list. Dabeet Ochoa.

Dabeet got up from his seat.

“Sit down, Cadet,” said the teacher.

“His name is on the list,” said Monkey, who happened to be in the same logistics class with him.

The teacher, nonplussed, looked down the list again, starting to say, “No he…” and then “This is ridiculous…”

Dabeet didn’t wait for him. Halfway to the door he realized that with what he intended to do right now—hide from whatever they were summoning him for—he shouldn’t carry his desk along with him. He handed it to Monkey as if he were returning something that belonged to her. “Thanks,” he said. Then he was out the door, which closed to cut off the teacher’s voice saying, “I really need to check on…”

They would know what class I’m in, so they’ll already have somebody heading here. Whoever “they” is.

Dabeet ducked into the first janitorial closet he reached and pulled the door closed behind him. Then he got to the first ladderway and went to the uppermost passage on the middle level.

In a few moments, he was in a spacesuit, in an airlock, and then outside.

Good thing he had already practiced getting from the middle wheel to the upper wheel of the station. He could get back inside somewhere other than the classroom level. But for the moment, he held on to the outside bar, with the airlock closed and recharging beside him.

Why am I running? When did I decide to hide?

It wasn’t implausible that he would be reassigned. With all the nasty reports Urska Kaluza had certainly made about him, getting him out of Fleet School might well be a priority.

But Urska Kaluza was also being reassigned. And why all the training officers?

That was what didn’t ring true. There was no reason to take them all at once—nothing could be more disruptive to their education. Teachers could come and go, as their assignments expired or new expertise was needed. Nobody much cared. There were teachers they liked, even some they respected, but they weren’t part of their lives. The training officers, though, they were a different story entirely.