When the intercom finally called him to the president's office he was almost ready for it. He still jumped when it barked for him then he got up quickly and left taking the elevator to the executive level. The cold-faced secretary nodded him in, and he was alone with the Admiral.
Admiral Sikelm had retired from active service when he took over the presidency of the Academy. He had never lost the manner or voice of command and everyone on campus referred to him only as "the Admiral." Jon had never been this close to him before and was struck speechless. The Admiral, however, did no barking or growling, just talked quietly to put him at ease.
"I have seen Professor Cherniki and he told me what happened in class. I have also listened to the taped recording of your conversation with him."
This doubly surprised Jon, it was the first he had heard that the classes contained concealed recorders. The Admiral went on, with the very last words Jon had expected to hear.
"Congratulations, Mr. Bork, you have been accepted for pilot training. Your classes begin next week — if you wish to continue training?" Jon started to talk, but the Admiral stopped him with an upraised palm. "I want you to listen first before you give me your answer. As you have already discovered, space flight is not all that it appears to be.
"When we first hit space we were losing nine out of ten ships. And not through mechanical failure either. Telemetering equipment on the pilots showed us where the trouble lay — space is just not made for the human body. Gravity changes, blood pressure, free fall, radiation narcosis, all of these combined with a dozen other causes we discovered later to put the pilot out of action. If he didn't black out completely or lose control, the disorientation of the new stimuli made it impossible for him to operate the ship.
"So we had a stalemate. Plenty of good ships with no one to fly them. We tried drugs, hypnosis and a number of other things to fit men for space. They all failed for the same reason. By the time we adjusted men for space they were so doped and controlled that they were again unable to do the job.
"It was Dr. Moshe Kahn who solved the problem — you've heard of him?"
"Just vaguely — wasn't he first director of the Psych Corps?"
"Yes — that's all he is known for in the public record. Maybe, someday, he can get the credit due him. Dr. Kahn was the man who enabled us to conquer space.
"His theory, that was proven to be absolutely true, was that man as we know him, Homo sapiens, is unfit for space. Dr. Kahn set out to create Homo nova, men who could live and work in space. Under the correct mental conditions the human body is capable of unusual feats — such as walking through fire or possessing the rigid strength of a hypnotized patient. Dr. Kahn reasoned that the body's potentialities are great enough, all he had to do was create the mind of Homo nova. This he did by inducing a condition of dual personality in adults—"
"I don't understand, sir.” Jon broke in. "Wouldn't it have been easier to work with children, babies — condition them from the very beginning?"
"Of course.” the Admiral said, "but happily we have laws to prevent just that sort of thing. Dr. Kahn never considered that approach; he used men, volunteers — most of them with some experience in space. Cases of multiple personality have been documented as far back as the nineteenth century, but no one had ever tried to create a separate personality. Kahn did it and he created the kind of personality he wanted. What is too upsetting or uncomfortable for a normal person is the natural environment of these new personalities. They are able to pilot ships between the planets. Using frozen sleep, passengers could also be carried to the planets without experiencing the terrible rigors of space.
"The entire program has been kept a secret — for good and obvious reasons. I can hear the howls now if people knew they were traveling with an unconscious pilot — an insane pilot I imagine they would call it since this is a kind of induced insanity. The only people who know about the program are the instructors, the pilots and a few high officials.
"Since the pilots are all volunteers — and the program works — there are no ethical rules being broken. As you have seen, even the students in this school have no idea of the real nature of a space pilot. If they accept the cover-up in their textbooks, they go on to other jobs in the Corps. If they have the capacity to think and understand — like you— they will understand the need for a program like this. They will have the knowledge to know what they are getting into if they volunteer.
"I think that covers the whole picture — unless you have any questions?"
Jon thought for a moment. "Just one, and it may sound a little foolish. Just what are the physical symptoms connected with this training? I mean, I would like to know, will I really be a little bit—"
"Insane? Only by definition. The new personality, Jon II, can only exist in the specialized environment of the ship's control cabin. Your original personality, Jon I, assumes command all the time on the outside. The only sensation you will have will be periods of amnesia. The personalities are distinct and separate. Each blacks out completely when the other is dominant."
Jon's mind was made up — had been made up for quite a while.
"I still look forward to being a pilot, Admiral. I don't see that all of this alters that fact any."
They shook hands then, the Admiral a little sadly. He had done this many times before. He knew it did not always turn out exactly as the young volunteers imagined.
Jon left the school the same afternoon, without seeing any of his classmates. The Pilot Training School was in a different part of the same base and a new world altogether.
The thing he liked most was the feeling of having arrived. He was no longer treated like a student, but as a responsible equal. He was one of a select few. There were only twelve students in the school at the time and over fifteen hundred men on the training staff. It soon became obvious why.
The first few weeks were mostly physical examinations and tests. Then came the endless sessions with the encephalograph and in the hypno chambers. Jon had nightmares at first, and many days had a period of half-awake, strange sensations. This was only in the beginning. The first step in the program was separating the two personalities completely. Once this happened Jon I had no knowledge of Jon II. Time went by very fast for him since he wasn't aware of most of the training.
Part of the program was orientation, teaching him how to accept and live with the hidden half of his mind. He, of course, could never meet Jon II, but he did watch another pilot's II personality. Jenkins was the one he saw, a slim boy about a year older than Jon. It was a Fine Motor Control Under Acceleration test that he watched. He found it hard to believe. The Jenkins in the test chair only faintly resembled the one he knew. Jenkins II had an expressionless face and a smoothness of motion that Jenkins I could never have. He sat in the acceleration cage that moved in sudden surges in random directions. At the same time Jenkins II had to throw small switches on a control board in response to a changing signal pattern. His fingers moved carefully, flicking the tiny switches placed only an inch apart — while the cage made sudden three-G swoops. Jenkins It's muscles were bar-hard to counteract the acceleration, but it was more than mere strength that gave the control. Heightened perception noted every thrust as it started and the opposed muscles countered with exactly the right amount of counterthrust. It was the automatic balance of an old sailor on a pitching ship, refined down to the smallest motion.
When Jon II was firmly established, Jon I had some uncomfortable experiences. Instead of coming through in the psych room one day, he found himself in the hospital. There was a tremendous gash across his palm and two fingers were broken.