'Me, too. Well, we'll probably find out.'
The cadet on the rostrum moved to stage .left. 'Silence!' he commanded. 'The Commandant!'
From the rear entered two men dressed in the midnight black. The younger of them walked so that his sleeve brushed the elbow of his senior. They moved to the center of the platform; the younger man stopped. The elder halted immediately, whereupon the aide withdrew. The Commandant of the Academy stood facing the new class.
Or, rather, facing down the centre of the hall. He stood still for a long moment; someone coughed and shuffled, at which he turned toward the group and faced them thereafter. 'Good evening, gentlemen.'
Seeing him, Matt was reminded strongly of Cadet Sabbatello's protest: 'Not blind, Mr. Dodson!' Commodore Arkwright's eyes looked strange-the sockets were deep set and the eyelids drooped like a man in thought. Yet, as that sightless gaze rested on him, it seemed to Matt that the Commandant could not only see him but could peer inside his head.
'I welcome you to our fellowship. You come from many lands, some from other planets. You are of various colors and creeds. Yet you must and shall become a band of brothers.
'Some of you are homesick. You need not be. From this day on every part of this family of planets is your home, each place equally. Each living, thinking creature in this system is your neighbor-and your responsibility.
'You are about to take an oath, by your own choice, as a member of the Patrol of this our System. In time, you expect to become an officer of that Patrol. It is necessary that you understand the burden you assume. You expect to spend long hours studying your new profession, acquiring the skills of the spaceman and the arts of the professional soldier. These skills and arts you must have, but they will not make you an officer of the Patrol.'
He paused, then went on, 'An officer in command of a ship of the Patrol, away from base, is the last of the absolute monarchs, for there is none but himself to restrain him. Many places where he must go no other authority reaches. He himself must embody law, and the rule of reason, justice and mercy.
'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 shrill: '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.'
