Pathways - Jeri Taylor [46]
“You go to Starfleet Academy?” asked Harry curiously. He’d heard of Starfleet, of course—who hadn’t?—but only as a distant and not entirely well-understood entity. Harry’s life had been proscribed and insular, defined by family, by art and music, and his awareness of this legendary organization was unformed.
Shanak gave him an imperious glance, but it didn’t carry any sense of ill will. It was just who she was. “Yes,” she replied simply. “I have just begun my second year.”
A thousand questions flooded Harry’s mind. “How did you decide to go to the Academy?” he began. “What do you have to do to get accepted? How long does it take? Is it hard to get in?”
Shanak looked at him imperturbably. “I made my choice when I was a small girl, and I began working toward the goal then. It is extremely difficult to be accepted. There are thousands and thousands of applicants from all over the Federation, so the competition is great.”
“So . . . how did you do it? What do you have to do?”
“As I said, I began as a small child. I reviewed the curriculum of the Academy and I structured my schoolwork to focus on that curriculum. I devoted myself to studies and the activities I knew would serve me well in the event of my acceptance. I allowed nothing to interfere with my chosen course.”
Harry took this in with a heavy heart. That morning, he was barely aware of Starfleet. Now, all he wanted in life was to become part of it, to be accepted at the Academy and become one of these proud, capable, supremely proficient cadets. But if it required the kind of lifelong devotion Shanak had given it, he was much too late in making this decision.
All through lunch, he peppered her with questions, which she answered in her cool, composed way. And when she received a communication to take him to the infirmary, he questioned her all the way on their walk there.
John Kim was sitting on a cotlike bed, and smiled as Harry and Shanak entered. To Harry’s relief, his father looked perfectly healthy, and his smile was as warm and ready as ever. “These good people have me good as new, Harry,” he said. “We owe them a debt of thanks.” He opened his arms, and Harry ran into them, so glad to see his father well that he didn’t even feel embarrassed by the display of affection.
From that day on, Harry had but one goal: to be accepted at Starfleet Academy.
His parents were admittedly puzzled by his strange epiphany, and not a little concerned by the prospect of his becoming a space adventurer. Having been blessed with his birth after having given up on the possibility of ever having a child, they had fantasized a future in which he would remain a constant part of their lives. He would marry, of course, and have his own children, but that would be done within the geographical confines of their family community. The Kims had many relatives, and they all lived within a hundred kilometers of each other. It had never occurred to Harry’s parents that he would stray farther than that.
Starfleet personnel, they knew, were often in deep space for years at a time. In some instances, their spouses and children were able to accompany them, but such provisions were not made for grandparents, or aunts and uncles and cousins. The prospect of a Harry Kim in Starfleet was that of an absentee son.
But when Harry began talking about nothing but Starfleet Academy, they concealed their fears and threw themselves into offering whatever support they could. They urged him to speak with his school counselor about his new goal, and to determine what he would need to do to achieve it. They arranged for tutors in those subjects which Harry had heretofore taken lightly. They did their own reading about Starfleet’s history, so they would be able to discuss it intelligently with their son.
Harry, for most of his life, had put his energies into music, and was woefully lacking in science and mathematics.