Beside it, was another slot outlined with red paint. "Remain
there until the tube is returned to you in the red slot. Take it back to
your desk." She paused and glanced down at her desk.
"Now, there are four possible classifications for a cadet. Control-deck
officer, which includes leadership and command. Astrogation officer,
which includes radar and communications. And power-deck officer for
engine-room operations. The fourth classification is for advanced
scientific study here at the Academy. Your papers are studied by an
electronic calculator that has proven infallible. You must make at least
a passing grade on each of the four classifications."
Dr. Dale looked up at the rows of upturned, unsmiling faces and stepped
from the dais, coming to a halt near the first desk.
"I know that all of you here have your hearts set on becoming spacemen,
officers in the Solar Guard. Most of you want to be space pilots. But
there must be astrogators, radar engineers, communication officers and
power-deck operators on each ship, and," she paused, braced her
shoulders and added, "some of you will not be accepted for any of these.
Some of you will wash out."
Dr. Dale turned her back on the cadets, not wanting to look at the
sudden pallor that washed over their faces. It was brutal, she thought,
this test. Why bring them all the way to the Academy and then give the
tests? Why not start the entrance exams at the beginning with the
classification and aptitude? But she knew the answer even before the
thoughtful question was completed.
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