A Company of Heroes Book Five: The Space Cadet by Ron Miller Page B

her classmates, had taken a genuine interest in the study of art—probably for the very reason that it represented a glimpse into that heretofore forbidden outer world—and was fascinated by chromolithographic reproductions from the collections of galleries both in Blavek and abroad. She had immediately realized that there was a great difference between the crudely obvious drawings, paintings and lithographs that were reprinted in the popular calendars, magazines and posters and the wonderful pictures that hung in the great galleries, though she would have been hard put to analyze let alone verbalize that difference. She now wondered, as she stood in front of her fragmented mirror, if there might not be the same dichotomy in the aesthetics of the human body. How would she and, say, Bettina be received by genteel Blavek society were each of them cleaned and dressed and polished with equal care? Would her friend, the most desirable girl in the school, appear coarse, gross and uncouth? Would Judikha, not remotely considered a sexual objective by her male classmates, let alone attractive, overwhelm them all with her lissome beauty, grace and charm?
    She had no idea, but she perversely persisted in doubting it.

    It was spring when the bulletin was posted announcing the impending Space Patrol Academy Entrance Examination. Anyone interested was invited to apply at the headmaster’s office for further information. Although in the history of the school not a single applicant had ever been accepted by the Patrol, so compelling was the latter institution’s reputation that at least a third of the student body, undeterred by such a dismal record, applied for the test.
    Judikha procured her application, which proved to be a blank form and a sheaf of papers listing the subjects that the exam would cover, to allow the applicant time to properly prepare themselves. She took all this home with her and, by the light of her frugal candle stubs, pored over the densely-printed sheets. The form, which should have been the simplest matter of all, proved to be a stumbling block right at the outset. It was for the most part a request for personal information, something of which she was peculiarly lacking. The very first line made her furrow her brow in frustrated concentration.
    Name: LastFirstMiddle Initial
    She did not know whether Judikha was her first name or last: it was the only name she had ever had and it had simply never occurred to her to wonder about its singularity. Neither had it ever occurred to her to ask The Fox about the origin of her name, no more than it would have occurred to her to ask him the origin of her arm or head—or for that matter, why he was called The Fox. Mr. Grun invariably referred to her as “Miss Judikha”, which seemed to argue for it being a family name. On the other hand, he referred to some of the other girls by attaching “Miss” to their first names, and some to their last. There seemed to be no consistent, rigorously-applied rule. Occasionally a newcomer to the neighborhood or to the classroom would briefly call her “Judy” even after she had told them firmly that her name was Judikha. It was an error that was only committed once per offender. She would make one allowance for ignorance, a second “Judy” she considered an intentional affront and applied a more immediately physical correction which, once the transgressor could again speak, always seemed sufficient. “Judy”, a diminutive she hated, was an unwarranted assumption on the other’s part—it did not necessarily mean that Judikha was her given name. Did she perhaps have any claim to Pilnipott ? She rather hoped not. Judikha Pilnipott did not quite have the ring she associated with a Space Patrol cadet. She thought for a moment longer, then wrote Judikha in the first space. She hesitated only briefly then wrote Judikha in the second space. The notion of yet a third name seemed to her unnecessarily extravagant, but, she reasoned, the