SELECT
It was the end of Test Week at the Academy, almost time for the results to be posted outside the cadet-candidates' dining hall, and all of them were there waiting. The results determined the incoming cadets' initial standings, so James Medart was as eager—and as apprehensive—about them as any of the others.
Promptly at 1300, the display board lit, and Medart skimmed the list for the M's. He was confident he'd made it through the grueling tests—though even at this point, about a quarter didn't—and he was hoping for a good ranking. In the planet-wide testing, he'd rated #1. That was good enough to get him to the main Academy at the Palace Complex but everyone here had scored high on their home worlds; he wouldn't be too disappointed, he told himself, as long as he made the top quarter.
When he found his name, though, it was all he could to to hold back a whoop of delight. He'd made #1 again, even in this picked group! It was Cadet Medart now, no longer Cadet-Candidate, #1 of the Class of 2516! At least, he cautioned himself, until regular academic rankings started coming out. Then he'd be working hard to keep his rating, with the rest working equally hard to take it over—but for today, coming through Test Week on top was plenty of grounds for satisfaction.
The new cadets spent some time congratulating each other and commiserating with those who'd be going to branch Academies instead, then the group broke up to pack. This afternoon was theoretically free time, but the new cadets were anxious to move to the Academy proper, the others to leave the scene of their disappointment, so within half an hour Medart was back in his room.
He packed automatically, his mind busy. He was relieved to have Test Week behind him, still excited by his ranking, and trying for what felt like the millionth time to decide on his third major when there was a knock on the door. He called, "Come in," expecting to see one of his classmates or an upperclasswen, when he finished closing his carryall and turned around.
The woman standing in front of the again-closed door was neither, and Medart couldn't help staring at her in shock. Outside the Palace Complex no ordinary Imperial citizen, and very few nobles or officers, could reasonably expect to see one of these people in the flesh. He tried to regain control, but when the woman said, "Cadet Medart?" all he could manage was a nod.
The woman smiled. "I'm sorry for the shock, Cadet. I'm Ranger Arlene Perry. Do you have a few minutes to spare?"
This time Medart managed to find his voice, though it was a little shaky. "Yes, sir, of course." Dear gods, he thought numbly, an Imperial Ranger. There were only ten in the entire Terran Empire, and one had come looking for him. That was astonishing in itself—and if cadet rumor was right about the reason for such a visit, it was also intimidating.
To his surprise, Perry chuckled. That wasn't the sort of thing he'd expected from one of His Majesty's personal representatives—it was too ordinary. So was her grin when she said, "I gather from your reaction that you've heard the rumors about a post-Test Week visit from one of us."
Medart nodded. From Perry's tone and expression, she was trying to give him time to adjust, but he wasn't sure that would help.
"The rumor's absolutely true," Perry said. "What do you think?"
His first impulse was to say she must be either joking or crazy, but he knew better, and that kept him from answering right away. Of course he'd had the usual daydreams of himself in the forest green uniform and platinum badge, but he'd never seriously thought of himself as one of this premier elite. He didn't feel qualified, and the idea of taking on a Ranger's tremendous responsibilities terrified him. The authority and prerogatives were tempting—dear gods, who wouldn't want to be Imperial royalty, with unlimited money and power?—but it was the responsibilities that were his primary concern. A military officer's mistake could endanger a ship, maybe a fleet at the worst; a Ranger's mistake could endanger anything from a world or system all the way to the Empire itself. That was easily intimidating enough for him to want to turn Perry down flat. It wasn't at all the sort of thing he cared to have on his conscience.
After several minutes, he shook his head. "That's very flattering, sir, but you have the wrong person. I don't think I have what it takes to handle that kind of power."
Perry chuckled. "The classic answer. Jim, all your test results were fed into the Empire Net and analyzed. The comps saw you had the kind of profile we're interested in, so the Net kicked your records up to the closest Ranger, who happened to be me. I agreed, so I brought them to His Majesty's attention. He agreed, so I'm here. Care to argue that combination?"
Medart took a deep breath. "With all due respect, sir, I don't have any choice, since I can't agree. I think I know myself pretty well; I'd make a good Navy officer, maybe even captain of a battle cruiser— but not a Ranger."
Perry sat down on Medart's bed, next to the carryall. "Good. Believe it or not, Jim, that's exactly the response we were hoping for. If you did want the job, thought right away you could handle it, you'd be an arrogant fool—and you'd have disqualified yourself, even this late. I know it's hard to understand that feeling unqualified is part of what makes you qualified, but history proves that in most cases, people who want power are the last ones who should have it. There are a few exceptions, of course, but we're talking about the vast majority.
"What we want are people who have the necessary ability and a reasonable amount of ambition, but who aren't interested in power for the sake of power itself. It's a delicate balance, and we may miss some who qualify because we prefer to take no chances on power-hunger— but you can be positive that if you are tapped, you do qualify."
Medart hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. He knew as well as anyone that the Empire was chronically short of Rangers. There were never enough, even when there were more than the average of ten. It was also common knowledge that however few there were, the selection criteria— whatever those were—were never lowered. They might be, and had been, raised; the opposite, never. So however unqualified he felt, he could be positive, as she said, that he was in fact fully qualified.
And he'd applied for the Academy because, as far back as he could remember, his goal in life had been to serve the Empire to the best of his ability. Until Perry had entered his life, he'd thought that meant the military, like the rest of his family. Now he was told there was a far more essential service the Empire wanted of him. That, he thought, had to take precedence over his fear of the responsibility—and they must have known he'd feel that way.
"In that case, sir—it scares me more than I want to admit, but if you and His Majesty want me for the job, I have to try." He hesitated, then said, "Which you probably knew, from my psych tests, before I did."
Perry's smile was relieved. "We hoped, and we thought the odds were good—but we didn't know. Good as the indicators are, we do have some refusals. Welcome to Imperial service, Ranger Medart."
Ranger Medart. The idea still scared him, but he had to admit he did like the way it sounded. "Thank you… uh, what do I call you now?"
"Arlene in private, Ranger Perry in public. And His Majesty is `sir' to you now, not `sire'." She grinned. "I think civvies would be more appropriate than probationary-cadet clothing, and I have a sidearm for you outside the door. His Majesty will give you your badge when we get to the Palace. Okay?"
"Uh, yes, of course. Isn't there some sort of oath or something?"
"You don't need it. There'll be a confirmation ceremony after your initial leave, emergencies permitting—but the fealty oath you'll take there is for the public, not for yourself."
Medart was a little disappointed that Perry's uniform was hidden by a cloak when he got changed and left his room, and that the trip to the Palace was in an unmarked car, but she explained that was simply to give him enough private time to notify his family of his selection personally before His Majesty made the official announcement. "Take advantage of privacy whenever you get the chance," she advised. "You won't get it often, especially at first—and you'll want to make arrangements for SecuDiv to protect your family from the more persistent newsies, at least until the novelty of your selection wears off."
"I hadn't thought about newsies," Medart admitted. "In fact, there's probably a lot I'm not thinking of right now."
"Very probably—and that's another reason for initial leave. Adaptable as we have to be, it's quite a shock going from cadet-candidate to Ranger; it'll take you a couple of days to get back to normal. So the routine is to meet the Sovereign, then go home until you're satisfied your family is taken care of and you're ready to face the media. Then you spend a year or two in OJT with another Ranger—me, in this case— and then you pick your ship and start your solo missions."
A year or two didn't sound like much, considering the variety of situations a Ranger got involved in, but Medart nodded. "I understand. And I'll have to do things like get a comm implant—take care of all that sort of detail before I go on duty officially."
"That's best," Perry agreed, "though if we were rushed, or you thought it best to go public right away, those could be handled later. If you want a comm implant, though, I can arrange for that as soon as your audience is over."
"I don't exactly want one, but I thought they were required."
Perry chuckled. "His Majesty leaves that up to us. The only surgery we're required to undergo is what's medically necessary. I think an implant is a good idea, and I'd strongly recommend it, but no, it's not required. There are a couple of us who chose not to have them."
"I think I'll take your recommendation," Medart said. "Though it may not be too much use outside the System, since I can't carry an ultrawave unit around with me."
"True, but it'll still provide you a direct link to your ship, or to any planetary comp or military base you're within radio range of, and if necessary you can link to the Empire Net through one of those— though it's usually easier, if you have to contact it, to just use the normal communicators. Want me to set up the implant for you?"
"Please."
They arrived at the Palace's private entrance not long after Perry finished making the arrangements, and she escorted Medart to Emperor Yasunon's working office, down a wide corridor to a door that was decorated with the Imperial Seal and flanked by two Palace Guard officers who came to attention as they approached. "Rangers Perry and Medart to see His Majesty," she told them.
"He's expecting you, sirs." The senior opened the door, and Perry, grinning, gestured Medart through first.
He had seen the Emperor's picture any number of times, on everything from holo-news to currency, so the chubby, balding man was no surprise—but His Majesty's obvious enthusiasm was. The Emperor came around his desk and grasped both of Medart's hands, smiling widely. "Ranger James Medart! You're the best thing that's happened to me in years."
"I'm flattered to hear that, Your Majesty." Almost as flattered as he was stunned by the unexpected greeting.
Yasunon released his hands and reached into a compartment on his belt—he was wearing a Ranger's uniform, with the Imperial Seal—and pinned the star-in-circle badge to Medart's tunic, then repeated Perry's greeting. "Welcome to Imperial service, Ranger Medart."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Medart felt a surge of deep emotions he couldn't identify, except for the determination to do everything in his power to justify their faith in him. He still had doubts of his ability to do that, but the badge's weight on his chest left him with no doubts that he'd try. "As soon as I make the arrangements for my family that Ranger Perry suggested, I'd like to start work."
"Since you're from Terra, that shouldn't be too long," Yasunon said. "I should start preparations for your confirmation, since there don't seem to be any situations nearing the critical point; how long would you like?"
"A week should be more than enough," Medart said, after a moment's thought. "I'll need a ride to the airport near my home, then I'll have to borrow a car to get the rest of the way."
"No problem," the Emperor said, a smile starting to grow. "The arrangements have already been made; a lander's waiting to take you to the airport, and a Texas Ranger car will be waiting for you there."
Medart was surprised for a second, then he chuckled. "I like Your Majesty's sense of humor."
"What can you expect when Emperor Chang set it up this way?" Yasunon was smiling widely. "It's one of the requirements."