LATER that afternoon, after Linc had returned to the South Tower and was debating with Flash and Arch whether to take in a movie or visit the Low-g Court, Linc's pager—a concession allowed senior cadets—buzzed, and an adjutant informed him that he was to report to Colonel Weyer's conference room at once. Weyer was another remote figure as far as the cadets were concerned. They saw him at inspections or when he gave occasional pep talks, but it was rare for them to have dealings with him directly He had already complimented Linc personally on his initiative in the capsule incident. Linc could only surmise that the summons had to do with some kind of follow-up to that.
"They're gonna give you a medal," Arch said; then he frowned. "Do they give medals to cadets?"
"I dunno," Flash answered. "Come to that, has the Zone ever awarded anything to anybody? It's never been involved in real combat."
"Dierot was in more than a few battles," Arch said.
"They were French or something."
"For valor in the face of the enemy," Arch recited. "That's what it'll say on it, Linc."
"There wasn't any valor involved," Linc pointed out as he finished knotting his tie and checked his hair in a mirror. "I was safe inside the Shack all the time."
"Maybe they're going to name one of the new ships after you then," Flash said. "The Linc Marani . . . I kinda like that. Do you have a middle initial, Linc—you know, like they do with the Armstrong? It sounds neater."
Linc snorted as he buttoned and straightened his tunic. "More likely they'll name the waldo after me," he threw back, putting on his cap as he left the room.
Colonel Weyer had a solemn, thick-lipped face with dark, protruding eyes, and slicked-back dark hair showing gray streaks at the temples. He was sitting at the head of the table dominating the conference room when Linc was shown in by a secretary. Two staff officers, one on either side, were sitting across the corners from him. Captain Ullerman was next along the table beside one of them. Opposite him, to Linc's surprise, was Arvin, his arm in a black sling. Next to Ullerman was a man wearing a crew officer's uniform, the shoulder insignia identifying him as from the Engineering Division. Arvin looked strained. Files lay open on the table in front of Weyer and Ullerman. One of the staff officers had an open screen pad, the other, an old-style notebook and pen. The two staff officers and the crew engineering officer, whom Linc had seen around but never had reason to be involved with more closely, looked at him curiously. "This is the young man who not only cut the cable but was the person who spotted the waldo and thought of using it, " Weyer said by way of introduction.
"Congratulations," one of the staff officers murmured.
"A quick piece of thinking," the engineering officer said.
"Thank you," Linc responded.
"Do you think you could use people like him?" Weyer asked the engineering officer.
"No question. With the ship construction that's being planned, we could use a hundred." There seemed to be some significance to the question that Linc was unable to grasp yet. He was ordered to ease and invited to sit down, which he did, at the far end of the table. Weyer drew the open folder in front of him a few inches nearer and stared down at it, as if to focus attention on the business at hand.
"Senior Cadet Marani," he said, looking up. "You came to us through what we call the 'special preparatory course,' Phase One at Camp Coulie, California, where you were made a section leader and received excellent appraisals, and Phase Two at Seville Trace in Texas."
"Yes, sir."
"We have the reports here from your principal Phase Two coach, Mr. Summer, and the other specialist instructors you were with there. It seems that you had thoughts about training in precision engineering crafts—maybe for instrument work or tool prototyping."
"That's correct, sir."
"Could I throw in a word here?" the engineering officer asked Weyer.
The colonel waved a hand. "Sure."
The officer looked back at Linc. "I'm curious as to why that was," he said. "Can you tell us?"
It was an unusual and unexpected question. Linc frowned, trying hard not to appear dumb, and answered as best he could with no time for thought or preparation.
"I guess . . . it was the first time in my life that I'd ever created anything that was any good to people—you know, with my own hands. I'd never really seen inside machinery before—engines, gear systems . . . like, really seen inside. And it just fascinated me. The thought of being able to make parts that exact, out of just . . . lumps of metal . . . . And then they all fit together and actually work. It was like learning an art or something." He wondered if he was perhaps starting to come across a bit too lyrically and spread his hands to cut it off there. "Anyhow, that was what I wanted to do." The engineering officer nodded, smiling faintly.
Weyer resumed, "And what happened to change that hope?"
"I, er . . . I guess I just couldn't handle the math and the geometric side of it," Linc answered.
"Could you elaborate a little, please?"
Linc was at a loss to imagine what could have brought all this up now. But there was no choice but to go along with it. "At the end of Phase Two we had a practical test," he said. "A set of parts that had to be machined and finished. Not exactly what you'd call the most complicated, I guess, but there were some dimensions that the drawings didn't give—that you had to work out. Thinking back about it, a big part of the idea might have been to see if your mind worked the right way." He shrugged and sighed. "I guess mine didn't."
"The results was that what you turned in was not up to an acceptable standard, was that so?" Weyer said, checking his file again.
"That's correct, sir."
Weyer sat forward to rest his elbows on the table. "And were you surprised?"
This was even stranger than the previous questions. Linc hesitated.
"Be honest, Marani," one of the staff officers put in. "This isn't a modesty contest."
Okay, they had asked him. "Well, yes, I was," Linc replied. "As a matter of fact, I thought I'd done pretty good. The instructor had been telling me I was a natural."
"A pretty devastating letdown," the other staff officer, who hadn't spoken so far, commented.
"I've pulled through worse, sir," was all Linc could think of to reply.
Weyer stared at him, nodding slowly to himself in a way that seemed to say he was satisfied. Then he turned, for the first time, to Arvin, who had been looking progressively more miserable as the exchange continued. "And now, Senior Cadet Lomax. Would you kindly repeat for Mr. Marani what you disclosed to us earlier."
Arvin stared down woodenly and began in a little more than a mumble, "The test pieces that were turned in—"
Weyer interrupted. "Don't tell the table. Tell him."
Arvin licked his lips and raised his head. He took a long breath and looked Linc in the face. "The test pieces that were turned in under your name were not the ones that you had made. Welsh switched them for some junk practice pieces that were in the store. It was me. I got him to do it."
Linc could only stare for what must have been ten seconds or more. "What?" was all he could manage, even then. It still hadn't registered fully. The others in the room waited, giving him time. He shook his head as if to help it clear. "Then . . . what happened to mine?"
"I told Welsh to get rid of them . . .." Arvin half lifted a hand from the table in a plea for some kind of understanding, even a little. "It was right after that thing, you know, in the gym. I was . . ." He let it go, realizing he was just sounding lame.
Colonel Weyer allowed a short silence. Then he asked, "Do you have anything you'd like to say at this point, Marani?"
The "at this point" sounded like a hint. Linc took it and replied, "I think I need a little time to think about that, sir."
Weyer seemed to have been hoping for that and nodded. "Do you want to talk the matter over privately with anyone here?"
"I'd rather be alone . . . thank you . . . sir."
"Very well." Weyer rose from his chair. "I have a few pressing things to do. Lomax will wait in one of the detention rooms, unlocked. Captain Ullerman will post a guard to prevent intrusions. We'll reconvene, gentlemen, in one hour."