Marie Curie on Living a Successful Life

From The Engaging Brand: Marie Curie on Living a Successful Life

Marie Curie was a remarkable woman and is highlighted in Success magazine this month.

I was struck by some of her quotes:

* "Nothing in life is to be feared; it is only to be understood"
* "First prinicple: never let oneself be beaten down by persons or events"
* "Life is not easy for any of us...we must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained"
* "I was taught that the way of progress was neither swift nor easy"

In modern life it is easy to fall into the thinking of "its alright for you" or " they don't understand me".

Social media has fueled the perception that success can be created overnight, but you know success can come overnight but more likely it is the result of persistance and resilience over time. Times are hard for many at the moment but remember

Our success is in our hands. Our success depends mostly on how much we want it.

Our success will come after many trials, tribulations and financial struggles...but then we will be able to appreciate it more that way!

I will leave the final world with Marie Curie - how many of us can say this?

"In spite of everything I came through it all honestly with my head high"

Marie Curie biopic heads to big screenFrom :

From Variety: Marie Curie biopic heads to big screen
BERLIN -- Marie Noelle is developing a biopic on Polish-French physicist Marie Curie.

Set up as a German-Polish co-production between Noelle and Peter Sehr's Munich-based P'Artisan Filmproduktion and Warsaw-based Pokromski Studio, "Marie Curie" has just secured EUR 30,000 ($41,374) in support from the German-Polish Co-Development Fund.

Noelle, who is also penning the script about the life of the Noble Prize-winning researcher, and Sehr are currently co-directing "Ludwig II," a historical drama about the 19th-century Bavarian king, which Warner Bros. is releasing in Germany and Austria in December 2012. Noelle and Sehr also helmed 2008's "The Anarchist's Wife."

In its fifth year, the German-Polish Co-Development Fund has backed a total of 16 co-productions since its launch, including Johannes Schmid's "Winter's Daughter," about an 11-year-old girl who sets off to find her biological father in Poland, which hits theaters here Oct. 20.

The German-Polish Co-Development Fund is a joint initiative between regional German funders Medienboard Berlin-Brandenburg and Mitteldeutsche Medienfoerderung (MDM) and the Polish Film Institute.

Let girls pursue R&D, say scientists on Marie Curie’s birth anniversary

This is from way back on Nov 8:
From DNA India.com: Let girls pursue R&D, say scientists on Marie Curie’s birth anniversary
Participants at the 4th National Women’s Science Congress called on Monday for a change in the mindset of girl students, their parents and institutions towards research and development. They also appealed to students to choose a career of their interest.

At a panel discussion on ‘Women in engineering, technology, entrepreneurship and industry’, they said that apart from bringing in a change in attitude and giving more freedom, family members should support girls and women who want to pursue career seriously.

The two-day Congress was organised by the Swadeshi Vijnana Andolana-Karnataka and Entrepreneurship Development Centre, MS Ramaiah Institute of Technology.

It honoured Dr Vaidehi Ganeshan, senior scientist of IGCAR, Kalpakkam, with Marie Curie Mahila Vijnana Puraskara and Dr Rohini Godbole, of Centre for High-Energy Physics, IISc, with CV Raman Mahila Vijnana Puraskara. The recipients of the awards shared their experiences as scientists with participants of the congress.

Twelve scientific themes on various science topics and 135 research, review and study papers will be presented during the conference.

Girl Scouts redesign badges for new century

From Boston.com: Girl Scouts redesign badges for new century

Ruth Bramson, the chief executive of Girl Scouts of Eastern Massachusetts, wants to make one thing clear. “We’ll never give up the cookie badge.’’

But as Girl Scouts of the USA prepares to celebrate its 100th anniversary, the organization has revamped its badge lineup, and some - Looking Your Best, and From Fitness to Fashion, among them - have gotten the ax. Others, such as the cookie badge, made the cut, albeit with makeovers.

And some of the 136 badges sound more like topics trending on Twitter than something a fresh-faced girl would pin on her sash.

There’s a Good Credit badge and a Money Manager badge, Locavore, Website Designer, and Netiquette badges, a Science of Happiness badge, and, as a component of a cookie-badge program that has been expanded, a Customer Loyalty badge.

At a time when girls have many extracurricular options, the wide-ranging revamp - the first in 25 years - is an attempt to stay relevant.

“The girls said, ‘We love the camping, we love the cookies, but we want the Girl Scouts to be more about what we’re about,’ ’’ Bramson said.

Badges have always reflected their times; in 1916 the Telegraph badge seemed cutting edge, and in 1920 a Canning badge was pertinent. But in the age of YouTube, the local food movement, and Occupy Wall Street, Girl Scouts have different concerns.

“I don’t want to be one of the people who have bad finances,’’ said Shannon Leary, 17, a senior at the Woodward School in Quincy. She plans to start working toward a financial literacy badge as soon as she is done with college applications.

“A lot of people go to college and open credit cards and spend a lot of money, and then you’re in debt at a really early age and you have a poor credit score,’’ she said. “No one really wants that.’’

Leary also plans to earn a badge for another headline-making subject - the environment. Her interest follows a Girl Scouts trip to Peru and Costa Rica. “The tour guide said the rain forests were being chopped down for cattle, or global warming was impacting them,’’ she said. “I want to do my best to save the world, even though I know that sounds really cliché.’’

In Reading, Kasey Cook, 16, is working toward an updated First Aid badge, and two of the steps involve educating herself about sports-related head injuries and drug and alcohol abuse.

“Unfortunately in Reading in the past couple of months there have been a lot of drug or alcohol-related deaths,’’ Cook said. “If you know the signs [of drug or substance abuse], maybe you’ll be able to help. The worst thing is to be uneducated.’’

“It’s not an official Girl Scouts motto,’’ she added, “but one of the things they teach girls is that knowledge is power. They really try to prepare girls to be leaders of tomorrow.’’

Even if it means looking back to yesterday. Thirty-five of the new badges are in the “legacy’’ category, meaning they’re modernized versions of favorite badges from the Girl Scouts’ 100-year history. Dinner Party has essentially replaced Hostess, with the focus on figuring out where to obtain the ingredients rather than sending invitations.

As for the From Fitness to Fashion badge, that has evolved into Science of Style. “Girls are still interested in how they look and what they wear,’’ said Alisha Niehaus, executive editor of the new badge book, “but now we’ve given it a purposeful bent. They can look at the chemical makeup of sunscreen or makeup, or the use of nanotechnology in fabric.’’

Niehaus left her job as a children’s book editor at Penguin Young Readers Group to oversee the second half of the two-year update of the “Girls Guide to Girl Scouting,’’ which is six books, one for every Girl Scouting level, from Daisy to Ambassador, each around 150 pages long.

Niehaus said the revamp comes at a time when the Girl Scouts have “turned the corner’’ on membership, which hit an all-time high of 3,921,403 members in 1969. “There was not a lot of other things for girls to do,’’ she said in an e-mail, “and women were getting more involved and taking leadership roles - these are just two factors of many factors that affected membership at this time.’’

Membership, which dropped to a post-1969 low in the early 1980s, hit 3,193,502 this year, up from 3,182,142 in 2010.

Ideas for the new badges came out of focus group discussions, with girls, volunteers, and staff from regional councils.

The badges, which range from Comic Artist to Behind the Ballot to Car Care, cover the range of life itself, but they share a goal: to keep girls challenged and engaged, and in the process encourage them to be leaders - which the organization defines as anything from one who stands up for a bullying victim to becoming president of the United States.

Sarah Leshay, a high school teacher and the leader of two troops in the Bedford-Hanscom area, said the update was needed. “Keeping the older girls engaged is really hard,’’ she said, and the more current the badges, the better. “The old photography badge had nothing about digital - that’s how old it was.’’

Another Bedford-Hanscom leader, Nancy Wolk, said her fourth-graders are particularly enthusiastic about the new Savvy Shopper badge - and she is, too.

“Girls have more money than they did in the past,’’ said Wolk, the mother of two scouts, and a scientist at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics. “I’ve noticed a lot of the girls in my group, even the girls are on the lower end of the economic scale, still have more money than I did as a kid. I hear stories of parents borrowing from their kids’ piggy banks to pay the cleaners. It’s good at this age to talk about the fact that just because you have money, you don’t have to go out and spend it.’’

That’s a lesson Wolk’s 9-year-old Scout says she needs to learn. “I have a lot of trouble with my money,’’ said Sylvia. She explained that impulsive purchases - of American Girl doll merchandise and Nintendo games - are making it hard for her to save for a new Nintendo 3DS.

“I basically get a game and then I play it and then I see another one I want and then I run out of money,’’ she said. “I want to learn how to save better.’’

Kids intrigued by astronomy lecture

Kids intrigued by astronomy lecture
Dr. Louise Edwards, assistant professor of physics at Mount Allison University, gives a presentation aimed at kids about galaxy filaments at the Free Meeting House as part of the Moncton Museum's current exhibit, Conquest of Space in Images and Canada's Stellar Space Achievements.

From Times & Transcript: Mt. A prof shows how cool space study can be
Do you know why Pluto was demoted of its planet status in 2006?

What's the name of the closest galaxy to our Milky Way?

These are some of the questions that Dr. Louise Edwards posed to a couple dozen kids and their families Saturday during her lecture on galactic astronomy, geared for both children and adults, at the Moncton Museum.

Some of kids were keeners in the subject, knowing a few of the answers that Dr. Edwards posed. When one young boy stated that Pluto was demoted because of "something to do with its orbit," which was in part correct, the adults were pretty surprised.

Edwards explained that the International Astronomical Union got together to decided what were the criteria for the definition of a planet.

"They say that it must be a round shape, it must orbit the sun, and must be strong enough to pull its little moons surrounding out of their orbit of the sun," she said. "It was discovered that Pluto didn't meet that last point."

Edwards, an assistant physics professor at Mount Allison University, based her hour-long talk the way humans observe outer space. She emphasized the use of telescopes, from small hand-held binoculars, to some of the largest telescopes in the world, used by scientists and astronauts.

She really wowed the audience with the next big project that astronomers from all over want to accomplish.

"We want to build a ground telescope with the lense measuring 30 meters across in about 10 years or so," she said. "It would need about 100 pieces of mirror put together and would be the world's largest ever."

She showed them photos of the ground Gemini telescope in Chile, and drawings of the James Webb telescope, which will be launched into space in about six years.

"The most important advantage of telescopes is to see really far into the universe and give us information that would be impossible to know otherwise," Edwards explained.

Near the end of her presentation, she invited everyone to come out to Sackville in a few weeks to use the Mount Allison telescopes for an evening.

"If it's a clear night, you'll be able to see things you couldn't see with the naked eye."

The kids seemed to be pretty excited about this and a few hands shot up to ask questions.

The last came from Jacob Jones, belonging to a group of about seven Beavers at the presentation with a few of their leaders.

"What's a naked eye?" he said, which was followed by chuckles from the crowd.

Jones asked a few great questions about space during the presentation. He said that he liked how Edwards could answer all of them.

Nancy Garner, known to the Beavers as Sunshine, said that while they don't earn merit badges until they reach Cubs and Scouts, the lecture was a great experience for the kids.

"They can tell the rest of the group all about this at our next meeting," she said.

Beaver Gracie Agnew enjoyed the talk about astronomy and says it's one of her favourite subjects.

"I love the planet Saturn because of its rings," she said.

Edwards, who studied in California and received her PhD at Laval University in Quebec, enjoys speaking to children because it may foster future scientists.

"If these lectures capture an interest in science at all for the kids then I've done my job," she said. "We need engineers, astronomers, all types of scientists so maybe they'll want to know how I know of these things and will go on to study in those fields."

Saturday's lecture was part of the Moncton Museum's current space exhibit, open every Monday to Saturday from 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. and Sunday from 1 p.m. until 5 p.m.

Mary Somerville autobiography Chapt 2 cont

When I was about thirteen my mother took a small apartment in Edinburgh for the winter, and I was sent to a writing school, where I soon learnt to write a good hand, and studied the common rules of arithmetic. My uncle William Henry Charters, lately returned from India, gave me a pianoforte, and I had music lessons from an old lady who lived in the top story of one of the highest houses in the old town. I slept in the same room with my mother. One morning I called out, much alarmed, "There is lightning!" but my mother said, after a moment, "No; it is fire!" and on opening the window shutters I found that the flakes of fire flying past had made the glass quite hot. The next house but one was on fire and burning fiercely, and the people next door were throwing everything they possessed, even china and glass, out of the windows into the street. We dressed quickly, and my mother sent immediately to Trotter the upholsterer for four men.

We then put our family papers, our silver, &c., &c., into trunks; then my mother said, "Now let us breakfast, it is time enough for us to move our things when the next house takes fire."

Of its doing so there was every probability because casks of turpentine and oil were exploding from time to time in a carriage manufactory at the back of it. Several gentlemen of our acquaintance who came to assist us were surprised to find us breakfasting quietly as if there were nothing unusual going on. In fact my mother, though a coward in many things, had, like most women, the presence of mind and the courage of necessity. The fire was extinguished, and we had only the four men to pay for doing nothing, nor did we sacrifice any of our property like our neighbours who had completely lost their heads from terror. I may mention here that on one occasion when my father was at home he had been ill with a severe cold, and wore his nightcap. While reading in the drawing-room one evening he called out, "I smell fire, there is no time to be lost," so, snatching up a candle, he wandered from room to room followed by us all still smelling fire, when one of the servants said, "O, sir, it is the tassel of your nightcap that is on fire."

* * * * *

On returning to Burntisland, I spent four or five hours daily at the piano; and for the sake of having something to do, I taught myself Latin
enough from such books as we had, to read Cæsar's "Commentaries." I went that summer on a visit to my aunt at Jedburgh, and, for the first time in my life, I met in my uncle, Dr. Somerville, with a friend who approved of my thirst for knowledge. During long walks with him in the early mornings, he was so kind, that I had the courage to tell him that I had been trying to learn Latin, but I feared it was in vain; for my brother and other boys, superior to me in talent, and with every assistance, spent years in learning it. He assured me, on the contrary, that in ancient times many women--some of them of the highest rank in England--had been very elegant scholars, and that he would read Virgil with me if I would come to his study for an hour or two every morning before breakfast, which I gladly did.

I never was happier in my life than during the months I spent at Jedburgh. My aunt was a charming companion--witty, full of anecdote, and had read more than most women of her day, especially Shakespeare, who was her favourite author. My cousins had little turn for reading, but they were better educated than most girls. They were taught to write by David Brewster, son of the village schoolmaster, afterwards Sir David, who became one of the most distinguished philosophers and discoverers of the age, member of all the scientific societies at home and abroad, and at last President of the University of Edinburgh. He was studying in Edinburgh when I was at Jedburgh; so I did not make his acquaintance then; but later in life he became my valued friend. I did not know till after his death, that, while teaching my cousins, he fell in love with my cousin Margaret. I do not believe she was aware of it. She was afterwards attached to an officer in the army; but my aunt would not allow her to go to that _outlandish_ place, Malta, where he was quartered; so she lived and died unmarried. Steam has changed our ideas of distance since that time.

My uncle's house--the manse--in which I was born, stands in a pretty garden, bounded by the fine ancient abbey, which, though partially ruined, still serves as the parish kirk. The garden produced abundance of common flowers, vegetables, and fruit. Some of the plum and pear trees were very old, and were said to have been planted by the monks. Both were excellent in quality, and very productive. The view from both garden and manse was over the beautiful narrow valley through which the Jed flows. The precipitous banks of red sandstone are richly clothed with vegetation, some of the trees ancient and very fine, especially the magnificent one called the capon tree, and the lofty king of the wood, remnants of the fine forests which at one time had covered the country. An inland scene was new to me, and I was never tired of admiring the tree-crowned scaurs or precipices, where the rich glow of the red sandstone harmonized so well with the autumnal tints of the foliage.

We often bathed in the pure stream of the Jed. My aunt always went with us, and was the merriest of the party; we bathed in a pool which was deep under the high scaur, but sloped gradually from the grassy bank on the other side. Quiet and transparent as the Jed was, it one day came down with irresistible fury, red with the débris of the sandstone scaurs. There had been a thunderstorm in the hills up-stream, and as soon as the river began to rise, the people came out with pitchforks and hooks to catch the hayricks, sheaves of corn, drowned pigs, and other animals that came sweeping past. My cousins and I were standing on the bridge, but my aunt called us off when the water rose above the arches, for fear of the bridge giving way. We made expeditions every day; sometimes we went nutting in the forest; at other times we gathered mushrooms on the grass parks of Stewartfield, where there was a wood of picturesque old Scotch firs, inhabited by a colony of rooks.

I still kept the habit of looking out for birds, and had the good fortune to see a heron, now a rare bird in the valley of the Jed. Some of us went every day to a spring called the Allerly well, about a quarter of a mile from the manse, and brought a large jug of its sparkling water for dinner. The evenings were cheerful; my aunt sang Scotch songs prettily, and told us stories and legends about Jedburgh, which had been a royal residence in the olden time. She had a tame white and tawny-coloured owl, which we fed every night, and sometimes brought into the drawing-room. The Sunday evening never was gloomy, though properly observed. We occasionally drank tea with acquaintances, and made visits of a few days to the Rutherfurds of Edgerton and others; but I was always glad to return to the manse.

My uncle, like other ministers of the Scottish Kirk, was allowed a glebe, which he farmed himself. Besides horses, a cow was kept, which supplied the family with cream and butter, and the skimmed milk was given to the poor; but as the milk became scarce, one woman was deprived, for the time, of her share. Soon after, the cow was taken ill, and my uncle's ploughman, Will, came to him and said, "Sir, gin you would give that carline Tibby Jones her soup o' milk again, the coo would soon be weel eneugh." Will was by no means the only believer in witchcraft at that time.

End ch 2

FICTION: Tom Corbett Space cadet Ch 2

Tom Corbett's first day at Space Academy began at 0530 hours with the blaring of the Cadet Corps Song over the central communicators:

"From the rocket fields of the Academy
To the far-flung stars of outer space,
We're Space Cadets training to be
Ready for dangers we may face.
Up in the sky, rocketing past
Higher than high, faster than fast,
Out into space, into the sun
Look at her go when we give her the gun.
From the rocket fields of the...."

Within sixty seconds, the buildings of the Academy rocked with the impact of three thousand voices singing the last stanza. Lights flashed on in every window. Cadets raced through the halls and across the quadrangle. The central communicator began the incessant mustering of cadets, and the never-ending orders of the day.

" ... Unit 38-Z report to Captain Edwards for astrogation. Unit 68-E report to Commander Walters for special assignments."

On and on, down the list of senior cadets, watch officers, and the newly arrived Earthworms. Units and individuals to report for training or study in everything from ground assembly of an atomic rocket motor, to the history of the founding of the Solar Alliance, the governing body of the tri-planet civilization.

Tom Corbett stepped out of the shower in Section 42-D and bellowed at the top of his voice.

"Hit the deck, Astro! Make use of the gravity!" He tugged at an outsized foot dangling over the side of an upper bunk.

"Uhhhh-ahhhh-hummmmm," groaned the cadet from Venus and tried to go back to sleep.

Philip Morgan stepped into the shower, turned on the cold water, screeched at the top of his voice, gradually trailing off into countless repetitions of the last verse of the Academy song.

"Damp your tubes, you blasted space monkey," roared Astro, sitting up bleary-eyed.

"What time do we eat?" asked Tom, pulling on the green one-piece coverall of the Earthworm cadet candidates.

"I don't know," replied Astro, opening his mouth in a cavernous yawn. "But it'd better be soon. I like space, but not between my backbone and my stomach!"

Warrant Officer McKenny burst into the room and began to compete with the rest of the noise outside the buildings.

"Five minutes to the dining hall and you'd better not be late! Take the slidestairs down to the twenty-eighth floor. Tell the mess cadet in charge of the hall your unit number and he'll show you to the right table. Remember where it is, because you'll have to find it yourself after that, or not eat. Finish your breakfast and report to the ninety-ninth floor to Dr. Dale at seven hundred hours!"

And as fast as he had arrived, he was gone, a flash of red color with rasping voice trailing behind.

Exactly one hour and ten minutes later, promptly at seven o'clock, the three members of Unit 42-D stood at attention in front of Dr. Joan Dale, along with the rest of the green-clad cadets.

When the catcalls and wolf whistles had died away, Dr. Dale, pretty, trim, and dressed in the gold and black uniform of the Solar Guard, held up her hand and motioned for the cadets to sit down.

"My answer to your—" she paused, smiled and continued, "your enthusiastic welcome is simply—thank you. But we'll have no further repetitions. This is Space Academy—not a primary school!"

Turning abruptly, she stood beside a round desk in the well of an amphitheater, and held up a thin tube about an inch in diameter and twelve inches long.

"We will now begin your classification tests," she said. "You will receive one of these tubes. Inside, you will find four sheets of paper. You are to answer all the questions on each paper and place them back in the tube. Take the tube and drop it in the green outline slot in this wall."

She indicated a four-inch-round hole to her left, outlined with green paint. 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. Under the fear of being washed out, the weaker ones would not pass. The Solar Guard could not afford to have cadets and later Solar Guard officers who could not function under pressure.

She began handing out the tubes and, one by one, the green-clad candidates stepped to the front of the room to receive them.

"Excuse me, Ma'am," said one cadet falteringly. "If—if—I wash out as a cadet—as a Solar Guard officer cadet"—he gulped several times—"does that mean there isn't any chance of becoming a spaceman?"

"No," she answered kindly. "You can become a member of the enlisted Solar Guard, if you can pass the acceleration tests."

"Thank you, Ma'am," replied the boy and turned away nervously.

Tom Corbett accepted the tube and hurried back to his seat. He knew that this was the last hurdle. He did not know that the papers had been prepared individually, the tests given on the basis of the entrance exams he had taken back at New Chicago Primary Space School.

He opened the tube, pulling out the four sheets, printed on both sides of the paper, and read the heading on the first: ASTROGATION, COMMUNICATIONS, SIGNALS (Radar)

He studied the first question.

" ... What is the range of the Mark Nine radar-scope, and how far can a spaceship be successfully distinguished from other objects in space?..."

He read the question four times, then pulled out a pencil and began to write.

Only the rustle of the papers, or the occasional sigh of a cadet over a problem, disturbed the silence in the high-ceilinged room, as the hundred-odd cadets fought the questions.

There was a sudden stir in the room and Tom looked up to see Roger Manning walk to the slot and casually deposit his tube in the green-bordered slot. Then he leaned idly against the wall waiting for it to be returned. As he stood there, he spoke to Dr. Dale, who smiled and replied. There was something about his attitude that made Tom boil. So fast? He glanced at his own papers. He had hardly finished two sheets and thought he was doing fine. He clenched his teeth and bent over the paper again, redoubling his efforts to triangulate a fix on Regulus by using dead reckoning as a basis for his computations.

Suddenly a tall man, wearing the uniform of a Solar Guard officer, appeared in the back of the room. As Dr. Dale looked up and smiled a greeting, he placed his finger on his lips. Steve Strong, Captain in the Solar Guard, gazed around the room at the backs bent over busy pencils. He did not smile, remembering how, only fifteen years before, he had gone through the same torture, racking his brains trying to adjust the measurements of a magnascope prism. He was joined by a thin handsome young man, Lieutenant Judson Saminsky, and finally, Warrant Officer McKenny. They nodded silently in greeting. It would be over soon. Strong glanced at the clock over the desk. Another ten minutes to go.

The line of boys at the slots grew until more than twenty stood there, each waiting patiently, nervously, for his turn to drop the tube in the slot and receive in return the sealed cylinder that held his fate.

Still at his desk, his face wet with sweat, Astro looked at the question in front of him for the fifteenth time.

" ... Estimate the time it would take a 300-ton rocket ship with half-filled tanks, cruising at the most economical speed to make a trip from Titan to Venusport. (a) Estimate size and maximum capacity of fuel tanks. (b) Give estimate of speed ship would utilize...."

He thought. He slumped in his chair. He stared at the ceiling. He chewed his pencil....

Five seats away, Tom stacked his examination sheets neatly, twisted them into a cylinder and inserted them in the tube. As he passed the line of desks and headed for the slot, a hand caught his arm. Tom turned to see Roger Manning grinning at him.

"Worried, spaceboy?" asked Roger easily. Tom didn't answer. He simply withdrew his arm.

"You know," said Roger, "you're really a nice kid. It's a shame you won't make it. But the rules specifically say 'no cabbageheads.'"

"No talking!" Dr. Dale called sharply from her desk.

Tom walked away and stood in the line at the slots. He found himself wanting to pass more than anything in the world. "Please," he breathed, "please, just let me pass—"

A soft gong began to sound. Dr. Dale stood up.

"Time's up," she announced. "Please put your papers in the tubes and drop them in the slot."

Tom turned to see Astro stuffing his papers in the thin cylinder disgustedly. Phil Morgan came up and stood in back of Tom. His face was flushed.

"Everything O.K., Phil?" inquired Tom.

"Easy as free falling in space," replied the other cadet, his soft Georgian drawl full of confidence. "How about you?"

"I'm just hoping against hope."

The few remaining stragglers hurried up to the line.

"Think Astro'll make it?" asked Phil.

"I don't know," answered Tom, "I saw him sweating over there like a man facing death."

"I guess he is—in a way."

Astro took his place in line and shrugged his shoulders when Tom leaned forward to give him a questioning look.

"Go ahead, Tom," urged Phil. Tom turned and dropped his tube into the green-bordered slot and waited. He stared straight at the wall in front of him, hardly daring to breathe. Presently, the tube was returned in the red slot. He took it, turned it over in his hands and walked slowly back to his desk.

"You're washed out, cabbagehead!" Manning's whisper followed him. "Let's see if you can take it without bawling!"

Tom's face burned and he fought an impulse to answer Manning with a stiff belt in the jaw. But he kept walking, reached his desk and sat down.

Astro, the last to return to his desk, held the tube out in front of him as if it were alive. The room was silent as Dr. Dale rose from her desk.

"All right now, boys," she announced. "Inside the tubes you will find colored slips of paper. Those of you who have red slips will remain here. Those who find green slips will return to their quarters. Blue will go with Captain Strong, orange with Lieutenant Saminsky, and purple with Warrant Officer McKenny. Now—please open the tubes."

There was a tinkling of metal caps and then the slight rustle of paper as each boy withdrew the contents of the tube before him.

Tom took a deep breath and felt inside for the paper. He held his breath and pulled it out. It was green. He didn't know what it meant. He looked around. Phil was signaling to him, holding up a blue slip. Tom's heart skipped a beat. Whatever the colors meant, he and Phil were apart. He quickly turned around and caught Astro's eye. The big Venusian held up a green slip. Tom's heart then nearly stopped beating. Phil, who had breezed through with such confidence, held a blue slip, and Astro, who hadn't even finished the test, held up the same color that he had. It could only mean one thing. Failure. He felt the tears welling in his eyes, but had no strength left to fight them back.

He looked up, his eyes meeting the insolent stare of Roger Manning who was half turned in his seat. Remembering the caustic warning of the confident cadet, Tom fought back the flood in his eyes and glared back.

What would he tell his mother? And his father? And Billy, his brother, five years younger than himself, whom he had promised to bring a flask of water from the Grand Canal on Mars. And his sister! Tom remembered the shining pride in her eyes when she kissed him good-bye at the Stratoport as he left for Atom City.

From the front of the room, McKenny's rasping voice jarred him back to the present.

"Cadets—staaaaaaaand to!"

There was a shuffle of feet as the boys rose as one.

"All the purple slips follow me," he roared and turned toward the door. The cadets with purple slips marched after him.

Lieutenant Saminsky stepped briskly to the front of the room.

"Cadets with orange slips will please come with me," he said casually, and another group of cadets left the room.

From the rear of the room Captain Strong snapped out an order.

"Blue slips will come with me!"

He turned smartly and followed the last of Lieutenant Saminsky's cadets out of the room.

Tom looked around. The room was nearly empty now. He looked over at Astro and saw his big friend slumped moodily over against his desk. Then, suddenly, he noticed Roger Manning. The arrogant cadet was not smiling any longer. He was staring straight ahead. Before him on the desk, Tom could see a green slip. So he had failed too, thought Tom grimly. It was poor solace for the misery he felt.

Dr. Dale stepped forward again.

"Will the cadets holding green slips return to their quarters. Those with red slips will remain in their seats," she announced.

Tom found himself moving with difficulty. As he walked through the door, Astro joined him. A look more eloquent than words passed between them and they made their way silently up the slidestairs back to their quarters.

Lying in his bunk, hands under his head, eyes staring into space, Tom asked, "What happens now?"

Sprawled on his bunk, Astro didn't answer right away. He merely gulped and swallowed hard.

"I—I don't know," he finally stammered. "I just don't know."

"What'll you do?"

"It's back to the hold of a Venusport freighter, I guess. I don't know." Astro paused and looked at Tom. "What'll you do?"

"Go home," said Tom simply. "Go home and—and find a job."

"Ever think about the enlisted Solar Guard? Look at McKenny—"

"Yeah—but—"

"I know how you feel," sighed Astro. "Being in the enlisted section—is like—well, being a passenger—almost."

The door was suddenly flung open.

"Haul off them bunks, you blasted Earthworms!"

McKenny stood in the doorway in his usual aggressive pose, and Tom and Astro hit the floor together to stand at attention.

"Where's the other cadet?"

"He went with Captain Strong, sir." answered Tom.

"Oh?" said Mike. And in a surprisingly soft tone he added, "You two pulled green slips, eh?"

"Yes, sir," they replied together.

"Well, I don't know how you did it, but congratulations. You passed the classification tests. Both of you."

Tom just looked at the scarlet-clad, stumpy warrant officer. He couldn't believe his ears. Suddenly he felt as if he had been lifted off his feet. And then he realized that he was off his feet. Astro was holding him over his head. Then he dumped him in his bunk as easily as if he had been a child. And at the same time, the big Venusian let out a loud, long, earsplitting yell.

McKenny matched him with his bull-like roar.

"Plug that foghorn, you blasted Earthworm. You'll have the whole Academy in here thinking there's a murder."

By this time Tom was on his feet again, standing in front of McKenny.

"You mean, we made it? We're really in? We're cadets?"

"That's right." McKenny looked at a clip board in his hand and read, "Cadet Corbett, Tom. Qualified for control deck. Cadet Astro. Power deck."

Astro took a deep breath and started another yell, but before he could let go, McKenny clamped a big hand over his mouth.

"You bellow like that again and I'll make meteor dust out of you!"

Astro gulped and then matched Tom's grin with one that spread from ear to ear.

"What happened to Philip Morgan?" asked Tom.

"What color slip did he have?"

"Blue."

"Anything besides green washed out," replied Mike quickly. "Now let's see, you have a replacement for Morgan in this unit. An astrogator."

"Greetings, gentlemen," drawled a voice that Tom recognized without even looking. "Allow me to introduce myself to my new unit-mates. My name is Manning—Roger Manning. But then, we're old friends, aren't we?"

"Stow that rocket wash, Manning," snapped Mike. He glanced at the clock over the door. "You have an hour and forty-five minutes until lunch time. I suggest you take a walk around the Academy and familiarize yourselves with the arrangement of the buildings."

And then, for the first time, Tom saw the hard little spaceman smile.

"I'm glad you made it, boys. All three of you." He paused and looked at each of them in turn. "And I can honestly say I'm looking forward to the day when I can serve under you!"

He snapped his back straight, gave the three startled boys a crisp salute, executed a perfect about-face and marched out of the room.

"And that," drawled Roger, strolling to the bunk nearest the window, "is the corniest bit of space gas I've ever heard."

"Listen, Manning!" growled Astro, spinning around quickly to face him.

"Yeah," purred Roger, his eyes drawn to fine points, hands hanging loosely at his sides. "What would you like me to listen to, Cadet Astro?"

The hulking cadet lunged at Manning, but Tom quickly stepped between them.

"Stow it, both of you!" he shouted. "We're in this room together, so we might as well make the best of it."

"Of course, Corbett—of course," replied Manning easily. He turned his back on Astro, who stood, feet wide apart, neck muscles tight and hands clenched in hamlike fists.

"One of these days I'll break you in two, Manning. I'll close that fast-talking mouth of yours for good!"

Astro's voice was a low growl. Roger stood near the window port and appeared to have forgotten the incident.

The light shining in from the hallway darkened, and Tom turned to see three blue-clad senior cadets arranged in a row just inside the door.

"Congratulations, gentlemen. You're now qualified cadets of Space Academy," said a redheaded lad about twenty-one. "My name is Al Dixon," he turned to his left and right, "and these are cadets Bill Houseman and Rodney Withrop."

"Hiya," replied Tom. "Glad to know you. I'm Tom Corbett. This is Astro—and Roger Manning."

Astro shook hands, the three senior cadets giving a long glance at the size of the hand he offered. Roger came forward smartly and shook hands with a smile.

"We're sorta like a committee," began Dixon. "We've come to sign you up for the Academy sports program."

They made themselves comfortable in the room.

"You have a chance to take part in three sports. Free-fall wrestling, mercuryball and space chess." Dixon glanced at Houseman and Withrop. "From the looks of Cadet Astro, free-fall wrestling should be child's play for him!"

Astro merely grinned.

"Mercuryball is pretty much like the old game of soccer," explained Houseman. "But inside the ball is a smaller ball filled with mercury, making it take crazy dips and turns. You have to be pretty fast even to touch it."

"Sounds like you have to be a little Mercurian yourself," smiled Tom.

"You do," replied Dixon. "Oh, yes, you three play as a unit. Competition starts in a few days. So if you've never played before, you might go down to the gym and start practicing."

"You mentioned space chess," asked Roger. "What's that?"

"It's really nothing more than maneuvers. Space maneuvers," said Dixon. "A glass case, a seven-foot cube, is divided by light shafts into smaller cubes of equal shape and size. Each man has a complete space squadron. Three model rocket cruisers, six destroyers and ten scouts. The ships are filled with gas to make them float, and your power is derived from magnetic force. The problem is to get a combination of cruisers and destroyers and scouts into a space section where it could knock out your opponent's ships."

"You mean," interrupted Astro, "you've got to keep track of all those ships at once?"

"Don't worry, Astro," commented Roger quickly. "You use your muscles to win for dear old 42-D in free-fall wrestling. Corbett here can pound down the grassy field for a goal in mercuryball, and I'll do the brainwork of space chess."

The three visiting cadets exchanged sharp glances.

"Everybody plays together, Manning," said Dixon. "You three take part in each sport as a unit."

"Of course," nodded Roger. "Of course—as a unit."

The three cadets stood up, shook hands all around and left. Tom immediately turned to Manning.

"What was the idea of that crack about brains?"

Manning slouched over to the window port and said over his shoulder, "I don't know how you and your king-sized friend here passed the classifications test, Corbett, and I don't care. But, as you say, we're a unit. So we might as well make adjustments."

He turned to face them with a cold stare.

"I know this Academy like the palm of my hand," he went on. "Never mind how, just take it for granted. I know it. I'm here for the ride. For a special reason I wouldn't care to have you know. I'll get my training and then pull out."

He took a step forward, his face a mask of bitterness.

"So from now on, you two guys leave me alone. You bore me to death with your emotional childish allegiance to this—this"—he paused and spit the last out cynically—"space kindergarten!"

East Devon gears up for Ladies Driving Challenge

Okay, not science related (and also over, it happened on Nov 13), but pretty interesting. Just goes to show women can do anything!

From Exmouth Journal: East Devon gears up for Ladies Driving Challenge
Women from across East Devon are gearing up to take to the wheel, entering the Ladies Driving Challenge in aid of Marie Curie Cancer Care.

Pictured here launching this year’s November event are firefighters from Middlemoor, Exeter, with the charity’s events manager, Jon Duckham and community fundraiser, Deborah Birtwisle.

The popular Ladies Driving Challenge attracts scores of women from across Devon keen to drive large machinery, such as fire engines, JCBs, articulated lorries, diggers, a double-decker bus, tractors and more.

The event will be held on Sunday November 13 at Westpoint, in Exeter, in a bid to raise much-needed funds for the charity.

There will be two sessions – 10am - 1pm and 2pm until 5pm.

Entry is £10 to register and the charity asks for £100 in sponsorship.

For more information, or to register, contact the events team on 08700 340 040 or go to http://www.mariecurie.org.uk/en-gb/events/adrenaline-experiences/ladies-driving-challenge-devon-2011---86681/?Tab=1

Mikulski Opens Senate Exhibit on Madame Marie Sklodowska-Curie

This is news from Oct 19: Mikulski Opens Senate Exhibit on Madame Marie Sklodowska-Curie

Exhibit Sponsored by Embassy of Poland Celebrates 100th Anniversary of Madame Curie’s Nobel Prize in Chemistry

October 19, 2011

WASHINGTON – U.S. Senator Barbara A. Mikulski (D-Md.) was joined by the Embassy of Poland this week to open an exhibit on the life and accomplishments of Madame Marie Skłodowska-Curie. The exhibit celebrates the 100th anniversary of Madame Curie's Nobel Prize in chemistry and is on display in the Russell Senate Office Building Rotunda to mark National Chemistry Week.

"When I think about Madame Curie and all that she has meant for science, I think of all the possibilities and potential for women, for those who have a passion for science, and for those who pursue the passion of intellectual discovery," Senator Mikulski said. "The world has long recognized Marie Skłodowska Curie, and it's time that we all know her so that she can re-inspire generations – not only through her science but through her life."

Senator Mikulski was joined by the Embassy of Poland Deputy Chief of Mission Maciej Pisarski and Dr. Bradley Miller, Director of the Office of International Affairs at the American Chemical Society.

The United Nations has declared 2011 the International Year of Chemistry, in part to mark the centennial anniversary of Madame Curie's Nobel Prize in Chemistry. This year also marks the 90th anniversary of her first visit to the United States in 1921 where she was presented with a gram of radium from President Warren G. Hardin to continue her studies.

The exhibit was displayed earlier this year at the European Parliament in Brussels and was prepared by the Polish Academy of Sciences with the collaboration of the Marie Skłodowska-Curie Museum in Warsaw.

Senator Mikulski's remarks at the opening of the exhibit are available in the following formats –

Web Video: http://mikulski.senate.gov/media/video/10-17-11.cfm

Still Photos: http://www.mikulski.senate.gov/media/photogallery/10-17-11.cfm



Senator Mikulski's remarks, as delivered, follow:

"It is an enormous honor for me to open the Curie exhibit here in the rotunda of the Russell Building. This is the 100th anniversary of Madame Curie winning her Nobel Prize on her own.

"I want to welcome the Deputy Chief of Mission from the Polish Embassy, Mr. Pisarski; Dr. Bradley Miller, representing the American Chemical Society; and to all those who will come into our Capitol to learn more about this extraordinary and very special woman.

"In 1911, Madame Skłodowska Curie stepped onto the world stage for the second time to win a Nobel Prize – this time in her own name and in her own right. In 1903, she stepped onto the world stage as a small, petite woman with her beloved husband, Pierre. When she was just 36 years old, they won a Nobel Prize in Physics for their discovery of Radium. Pierre and Marie knew it was a new century and it was going to be a century of chemistry, of physics and of discovery.

"They wanted to not only use their discoveries, but to use their discoveries for peace and to save lives. It was their belief that if you were a scientist and you made a discovery, your discovery belonged to the common heritage of mankind. They wanted to share their discoveries with the world. They also believed that if you were going to discover something that was going to help the world, you should benefit the world – but you shouldn't profit from it.

"They were amazing scientists and idealists. They took the money from their first Nobel Prize and reinvested it in their own laboratory, the famous Radium Institute. It was profound. They were busy working together, working on new projects, but their lives together were not meant to be. One sad day, Pierre stepped off a curb and was hit in a tragic horse and carriage accident. He passed away. The loss of Pierre left Marie Skłodowska Curie a bereaved widow, a talented scientist, and, as some have called her, 'a magnificent, obsessive genius.'

"While raising her family as a widow, she continued her own scientific discovery. She discovered a new chemical element and named it Polonium, after her beloved homeland. For that discovery, she won the 1911 Nobel Prize for Chemistry in her own right.

"The world has long recognized Marie Skłodowska Curie, and it's time that we all know her so that she can re-inspire generations – not only through her science but through her life.

"I'm a big fan of Madame Curie. When I was a little girl growing up in Baltimore during World War II, my parents took me to see a famous movie about her. They wanted me to know the story of Poland; they wanted me to know the story of this brilliant woman. At age eight, I saw this Greer Garson play, 'Madame Curie.' I knew then that I wanted to be just like her. When I came home, I begged my mother and father to buy me a chemistry set. I wanted to be a scientist. I wanted to win a Nobel Prize. I wasn't sure how to spell it, but I wanted to win it.

"The story mesmerized me and I worked hard in my science classes in school. I had hoped, as a young high school girl and as a young college student, to have a career in science, but it was not meant to be. I am good at understanding science, but I'm not very good at doing science. So I shifted my career to social science, to social work and to politics. I now use my talents in government to fund those that do science.

"When I think about Madame Curie and all that she has meant for science, I think of all the possibilities and potential for women, for those who have a passion for science, and for those who pursue the passion of intellectual discovery.

"Madame Curie was raised in an occupied Poland, which was partitioned into three parts. Warsaw, where she lived with her parents, was occupied by the Russians. But she, in an enlightened family for its time, was able to go to Paris to study and to do her work. It was there that she met Pierre, and as they say, the rest of history.

"But the other two parts that they don't know are Madame Curie's patriotism and her passion for peace. While she was busy doing science, she also wanted to save lives. During World War I, she wanted to help those who were on the battlefield. She and her daughter Irene conceived the idea of taking rough, even primitive equipment that could be used for x-rays to the battlefields. She got the fashionable women of Paris to donate the money to buy the equipment and taxi cabs. She trained young women to go to the battlefield, and out they went to the outskirts of France and Paris. The French government credits her with saving thousands of Allied lives because during surgery, they never knew where to find the bullet. Where the bullet enters is not always where the bullet goes. Thanks to Curie and her wonderful team of women – led by her own daughter – they were able to find out how to do this. She was the 'Mother of MASH Medicine.'

"We salute her for her efforts and the French government recognized her for it. Again, after the war, she became a scientific advisor to the League of Nations. She joined hands with Albert Einstein, Max Plank and others who wanted scientific discovery to always be in the hands of those who pursue freedom. And she wanted her work to go for peace.

"If she was alive today, she would love the MRI's, she would love the sonograms. She would love knowing that we have an Office of Women's Health at NIH. And if I know Madame Curie, she would wonder, 'how can I get in on it, and how can my great-granddaughter do it, and who's this woman Mikulski – I won the first Nobel Prize, she gets elected to the Senate.' Let's hear it for Polish women who just don't take no for an answer!

"So today I am pleased to open this exhibit, and I know she'd be pleased at what I'm doing in the Senate today. After I open this exhibit, I will be going to the Senate Floor to manage my appropriations bill that will fund scientific research in astronomy, chemistry and physics, as well as the National Space Agency, and the National Science Foundation, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. She would love it all.

"Today, we love Marie Skłodowska Curie and with love, open this exhibit."

Chemistry On Wheels

From Yentha.com: Chemistry On Wheels
Trivandrum: Two years ago, the United Nations decided to celebrate the year 2011 as the 'International Year of Chemistry'. This year also has another significance in being the 100th year since Marie Curie – often noted as the greatest chemist to have ever lived – was honored with a Nobel Prize in Chemistry.

The vehicle carried in it all the kits required to conduct different experiments and to do a drama. A team of school kids convey through the drama, the life history of Marie Curie. Along with it, many interesting experiments are also conducted before the children.

'Kerala Sasthra Sahitya Parishat' has devised a spectacular mode to have the school children made aware of the importance of chemistry and Marie Curie. The 'Rasathantra Vandi' (Chemistry Vehicle) travels around the district visiting selected schools to impart to them the value of chemistry in everyday lives.

“The program started five days ago. We have covered more than 20 schools and also a couple of public functions as well, since then,” says Suresh, teacher and Chief Secretary of 'Kerala Sasthra Sahitya Parishat', Trivandrum.

“It had been a tremendous success. The students were enthralled by the experiments we did everywhere we went,” notes Suresh.

The last stop for the 'Chemistry Vehicle' was Govt. Model Boys Higher Secondary School at Chalai. The five day tour concluded at Gandhi Park, East Fort on Friday.

Finding the next Einstein in Africa

From the Globe and Mail: Finding the next Einstein in Africa

When she left her home in war-torn Sudan a few years ago, Esra Khaleel found herself on a small campus near one of South Africa’s most famous beaches, where she could see the surfers and sunbathers from the windows.

But she never learned to swim. She was too focused on her work at the innovative new African science institute, where she eagerly explored the mysteries of the universe.

“The environment was 24-hour studying,” she marvels. “You felt so good, you didn’t feel tired – you just wanted to study. Sometimes we couldn’t even sleep from the excitement.”

Ms. Khaleel, who grew up in impoverished Darfur on the eve of a devastating civil war, had never been outside Sudan and had never spoken English before her arrival here. Today, thanks to her formative year at the African Institute for Mathematical Sciences, she is completing her doctorate in nuclear physics at a South African university and has spent time with Stephen Hawking, the famous physicist.

The computer laboratory at AIMS is filled with young men and women from across Africa who often study and work together until 2 or 3 a.m. before finally crashing in their dormitory rooms on the floor above. Until coming to AIMS, most were frustrated by the rote memorization methods of their classes at underfunded African schools. “We were so hungry to learn,” remembers Thifhelimbilu Singo, another recent graduate who is now completing a PhD in nuclear physics at nearby Stellenbosch University.

The institute, created in a former hotel in the beach town of Muizenberg near Cape Town in 2003, has produced 360 graduates from 31 African countries over the past eight years. Almost all have gone on to graduate degrees at universities around the world, and many are planning to return to their homelands to apply their knowledge to help solve Africa’s social and economic problems, from energy shortages to malaria transmission.

The institute is now rapidly expanding across the African continent, with $20-million in assistance from the Canadian government. A new branch has just opened in Senegal, and another is opening in Ghana next year, with Ethiopia and Tanzania likely to get the next branches. In total, the institute hopes to have 15 campuses across Africa by 2020.

The project is known as the “Next Einstein Initiative.” The belief is that the world’s next Albert Einstein could just as easily be found in Africa as anywhere else – if the educational opportunities exist.

In science and math, the gulf between Africa and the developed world is huge. Nearly a million students graduate from African universities every year, yet advanced scientific education is virtually unavailable, and the brightest students tend to leave Africa to work in Europe or North America. Only about 1 per cent of the world’s patents and scientific articles are from African-based researchers, and there are only two mathematics journals in the whole continent.

“When I meet the students, I see the richness that the world is losing by not having more African scientists,” says Carolina Odman-Govender, director of academic development for the Next Einstein Initiative.

“There’s so much potential that’s unseen and untapped. There are all these people who are brilliant but haven’t had a chance to shine. Many of them have never left their country before, never even flown before.”

Ms. Odman-Govender, a Swedish astrophysicist, was a teaching assistant at AIMS in its early days and later decided to return full-time. “It makes more sense to do science here than anywhere else because the impact is so much greater,” she says. “It’s a life-changing experience. You see them exceed the expectations every day.”

The founder and chairman of the institute is Neil Turok, a renowned physicist and long-time collaborator with Mr. Hawking. Born in South Africa to anti-apartheid activists, he now works in Canada as director of the Perimeter Institute for Theoretical Physics in Waterloo, Ont.

Mr. Turok believes the AIMS institute can contribute to an “African renaissance” by helping to overcome decades of underfunding and isolation at the continent’s universities. “Just think what will happen if Africa does for science what it has done for music, for literature and for art,” he wrote in The Globe and Mail last year. “Not only Africa, but the world could be transformed.”

Every year, about 50 to 60 students are accepted at the South African AIMS campus from all over Africa. A minimum of one-third are female. Nearly as many are accepted at the Senegal campus, and similar numbers are expected at future campuses in other African countries.

The 10-month program at AIMS includes intense classes in computer skills, language and mathematics. Competition to enter the institute is fierce: Only one of every five applicants is successful. They are truly the best and brightest of Africa’s science and math students.

Once they are accepted, tuition is free and travel costs are covered. They are given free accommodation and meals in the same building as their classes, allowing them to focus entirely on their studies. “They need to do their own laundry, and that’s about it,” Ms. Odman-Govender says. “And we provide the laundry machines and detergent.”

The professors and lecturers are volunteers, including Nobel Prize winners and other top scientists and mathematicians, who visit the AIMS campus for three-week teaching stints for a modest stipend. One of the key benefits of the institute is that the students can build a lifelong network of friends among their professors and fellow students, since they are together at meal times as well as in the laboratory and classroom.

“That’s the magic of AIMS,” says Bruce Bassett, a professor of cosmology and mathematics at the institute and at the University of Cape Town. “The students are networking. They’re eating with their professors and having a beer with them and working with them at 2 a.m. As a model, it’s brilliant.”

May Somerville autobiography, Chapter 2 cont.

My father was Captain of the "Repulse," a fifty-gun ship, attached to the Northern fleet commanded by the Earl of Northesk. The winter was extremely stormy, the fleet was driven far north, and kept there by adverse gales, till both officers and crew were on short rations. They ran out of candles, and had to tear up their stockings for wicks, and dip them into the fat of the salt meat which was left. We were in great anxiety, for it was reported that some of the ships had foundered; we were, however, relieved by the arrival of the "Repulse" in Leith roads for repair.

Our house on one occasion being full, I was sent to sleep in a room quite detached from the rest and with a different staircase. There was a closet in this room in which my father kept his fowling pieces, fishing tackle, and golf clubs, and a long garret overhead was filled with presses and stores of all kinds, among other things a number of large cheeses were on a board slung by ropes to the rafters. One night I had put out my candle and was fast asleep, when I was awakened by a violent crash, and then a rolling noise over my head. Now the room was said to be haunted, so that the servants would not sleep in it. I was desperate, for there was no bell. I groped my way to the closet—lucifer matches were unknown in those days--I seized one of the golf clubs, which are shod with iron, and thundered on the bedroom door till I brought my father, followed by the whole household, to my aid. It was found that the rats had gnawed through the ropes by which the cheeses were suspended, so that the crash and rolling were accounted for, and I was scolded for making such an uproar.

Children suffer much misery by being left alone in the dark. When I was very young I was sent to bed at eight or nine o'clock, and the maid who slept in the room went away as soon as I was in bed, leaving me alone in the dark till she came to bed herself. All that time I was in an agony of fear of something indefinite, I could not tell what. The joy, the relief, when the maid came back, were such that I instantly fell asleep. Now that I am a widow and old, although I always have a night-lamp, such is the power of early impressions that I rejoice when daylight comes.

* * * * *

At Burntisland the sacrament was administered in summer because people came in crowds from the neighbouring parishes to attend the preachings. The service was long and fatiguing. A number of clergymen came to assist, and as the minister's manse could not accommodate them all, we entertained three of them, one of whom was always the Rev. Dr. Campbell, father of Lord Campbell.

Thursday was a day of preparation. The morning service began by a psalm sung by the congregation, then a prayer was said by the minister, followed by a lecture on some chapter of the Bible, generally lasting an hour, after that another psalm was sung, followed by a prayer, a sermon which lasted seldom less than an hour, and the whole ended with a psalm, a short prayer and a benediction. Every one then went home to dinner and returned afterwards for afternoon service, which lasted more than an hour and a half. Friday was a day of rest, but I together with many young people went at this time to the minister to receive a stamped piece of lead as a token that we were sufficiently instructed to be admitted to Christ's table. This ticket was given to the Elder on the following Sunday. On Saturday there was a morning service, and on Sunday such multitudes came to receive the sacrament that the devotions continued till late in the evening.

The ceremony was very strikingly and solemnly conducted. The communicants sat on each side of long narrow tables covered with white linen, in imitation of the last supper of Christ, and the Elders handed the bread and wine. After a short exhortation from one of the ministers the first set retired, and were succeeded by others. When the weather was fine a sermon, prayers, and psalm-singing took place either in the churchyard or on a grassy bank at the Links for such as were waiting to communicate. On the Monday morning there was the same long service as on the Thursday. It was too much for me; I always came home with a headache, and took a dislike to sermons.

Our minister was a rigid Calvinist. His sermons were gloomy, and so long that he occasionally would startle the congregation by calling out to some culprit, "Sit up there, how daur ye sleep i' the kirk." Some saw-mills in the neighbourhood were burnt down, so the following Sunday we had a sermon on hell-fire. The kirk was very large and quaint; a stair led to a gallery on each side of the pulpit, which was intended for the tradespeople, and each division was marked with a suitable device, and text from Scripture. On the bakers' portion a sheaf of wheat was painted; a balance and weights on the grocers', and on the weavers', which was opposite to our pew, there was a shuttle, and below it the motto, "My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hop job." The artist was evidently no clerk.

My brother Sam, while attending the university in Edinburgh, came to us on the Saturdays and returned to town on Monday. He of course went with us to the kirk on Sunday morning, but we let our mother attend afternoon service alone, as he and I were happy to be together, and we spent the time sitting on the grassy rocks at the foot of our garden, from whence we could see a vast extent of the Firth of Forth with Edinburgh and its picturesque hills. It was very amusing, for we occasionally saw three or four whales spouting, and shoals of porpoises at play. However, we did not escape reproof, for I recollect the servant coming to tell us that the minister had sent to inquire whether Mr. and Miss Fairfax had been taken ill, as he had not seen them at the kirk in the afternoon. The minister in question was Mr. Wemyss, who had married a younger sister of my mother's.

Chapter 2 continues in next post. Entries from this book will be posted every THIRD day.

FICTION: Tom Corbett, Space Cadet: Stand by for Mars!

There has long been a dearth of adventure fiction for girls. However, since girls enjoy adventure fiction written for boys, I'm going to share one of my childhood favorites here. I'll publish a new chapter every other day.

Tom Corbett, Space Cadet, was a 1950s TV series, that spawned 8 books. They are now in the public domain.

I didn't find these until 1970 or so, when I was ten years old, and I loved them. Even though the only female character was Dr. Dale (and yes, even at the age of 10 in 1970, that annoyed me) I knew that in "real life" women would be astronauts just as men were.

What I like about this first installment in the series is .... well...everything. Well, Roger Manning is a pain in the neck - that was and is the convention in children's books, I believe, the two protagonists have to have someone to "fight against", a bully, to assist in the story-telling process.

But the dedication of the space cadet candidates, and then the space cadets themselves - that just called to me.

We will have a space academy in the future, it will be quasi-military - and kids reading this can help make that happen!

Tom Corbett, Space Cadet
STAND BY FOR MARS
CHAPTER 1

"Stand to, you rocket wash!"

A harsh, bull-throated roar thundered over the platform of the monorail station at Space Academy and suddenly the lively chatter and laughter of more than a hundred boys was stilled. Tumbling out of the gleaming monorail cars, they froze to quick attention, their eyes turned to the main exit ramp.

They saw a short, squat, heavily built man, wearing the scarlet uniform of the enlisted Solar Guard, staring down at them, his fists jammed into his hips and his feet spread wide apart. He stood there a moment, his sharp eyes flicking over the silent clusters, then slowly sauntered down the ramp toward them with a strangely light, catfooted tread.

"Form up! Column of fours!"

Almost before the echoes of the thunderous voice died down, the scattered groups of boys had formed themselves into four ragged lines along the platform.

The scarlet-clad figure stood before them, his seamed and weather-beaten face set in stern lines. But there was a glint of laughter in his eyes as he noticed the grotesque and sometimes tortuous positions of some of the boys as they braced themselves in what they considered a military pose.

Every year, for the last ten years, he had met the trains at the monorail station. Every year, he had seen boys in their late teens, gathered from Earth, Mars and Venus, three planets millions of miles apart. They were dressed in many different styles of clothes; the loose flowing robes of the lads from the Martian deserts; the knee-length shorts and high stockings of the boys from the Venusian jungles; the vari-colored jacket and trouser combinations of the boys from the magnificent Earth cities. But they all had one thing in common—a dream. All had visions of becoming Space Cadets, and later, officers in the Solar Guard. Each dreamed of the day when he would command rocket ships that patrolled the space lanes from the outer edges of Pluto to the twilight zone of Mercury. They were all the same.

"All right now! Let's get squared away!" His voice was a little more friendly now. "My name's McKenny—Mike McKenny. Warrant Officer—Solar Guard. See these hash marks?"

He suddenly held out a thick arm that bulged against the tight red sleeve. From the wrists to the elbow, the lines of boys could see a solid corrugation of white V-shaped stripes.

"Each one of these marks represents four years in space," he continued. "There's ten marks here and I intend making it an even dozen! And no bunch of Earthworms is going to make me lose the chance to get those last two by trying to make a space monkey out of me!"

McKenny sauntered along the line of boys with that same strange catlike step and looked squarely into the eyes of each boy in turn.

"Just to keep the record straight, I'm your cadet supervisor. I handle you until you either wash out and go home, or you finally blast off and become spacemen. If you stub your toe or cut your finger, come to me. If you get homesick, come to me. And if you get into trouble"—he paused momentarily—"don't bother because I'll be looking for you, with a fist full of demerits!"

McKenny continued his slow inspection of the ranks, then suddenly stopped short. At the far end of the line, a tall, ruggedly built boy of about eighteen, with curly brown hair and a pleasant, open face, was stirring uncomfortably. He slowly reached down toward his right boot and held it, while he wriggled his foot into it. McKenny quickly strode over and planted himself firmly in front of the boy.

"When I say stand to, I mean stand to!" he roared.

The boy jerked himself erect and snapped to attention.

"I—I'm sorry, sir," he stammered. "But my boot—it was coming off and—"

"I don't care if your pants are falling down, an order's an order!"

The boy gulped and reddened as a nervous titter rippled through the ranks. McKenny spun around and glared. There was immediate silence.

"What's your name?" He turned back to the boy.

"Corbett, sir. Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," answered the boy.

"Wanta be a spaceman, do ya?" asked Mike, pushing his jaw out another inch.

"Yes, sir!"

"Been studying long hard hours in primary school, eh? Talked your mother and father deaf in the ears to let you come to Space Academy and be a spaceman! You want to feel those rockets bucking in your back out in the stars? EH?"

"Yes, sir," replied Tom, wondering how this man he didn't even know could know so much about him.

"Well, you won't make it if I ever catch you disobeying orders again!"

McKenny turned quickly to see what effect he had [Pg 3]created on the others. The lines of bewildered faces satisfied him that his old trick of using one of the cadets as an example was a success. He turned back to Corbett.

"The only reason I'm not logging you now is because you're not a Space Cadet yet—and won't be, until you've taken the Academy oath!"

"Yes, sir!"

McKenny walked down the line and across the platform to an open teleceiver booth. The ranks were quiet and motionless, and as he made his call, McKenny smiled. Finally, when the tension seemed unbearable, he roared, "At ease!" and closed the door of the booth.

The ranks melted immediately and the boys fell into chattering clusters, their voices low, and they occasionally peered over their shoulders at Corbett as if he had suddenly been stricken with a horrible plague.

Brooding over the seeming ill-fortune that had called McKenny's attention to him at the wrong time, Tom sat down on his suitcase to adjust his boot. He shook his head slowly. He had heard Space Academy was tough, tougher than any other school in the world, but he didn't expect the stern discipline to begin so soon.

"This could be the beginning of the end," drawled a lazy voice in back of Tom, "for some of the more enthusiastic cadets." Someone laughed.

Tom turned to see a boy about his own age, weight and height, with close-cropped blond hair that stood up brushlike all over his head. He was lounging idly against a pillar, luggage piled high around his feet. Tom recognized him immediately as Roger Manning, and his pleasant features twisted into a scowl.

"About what I'd expect from that character," he thought, "after the trick he pulled on Astro, that big fellow from Venus."

Tom's thoughts were of the night before, when the connecting links of transportation from all over the Solar Alliance had deposited the boys in the Central Station at Atom City where they were to board the monorail express for the final lap to Space Academy.

Manning, as Tom remembered it, had taken advantage of the huge Venusian by tricking him into carrying his luggage. Reasoning that since the gravity of Venus was considerably less than that of Earth, he convinced Astro that he needed the extra weight to maintain his balance. It had been a cheap trick, but no one had wanted to challenge the sharpness of Manning's tongue and come to Astro's rescue. Tom had wanted to, but refrained when he saw that Astro didn't mind.

Finishing his conversation on the teleceiver, McKenny stepped out of the booth and faced the boys again.

"All right," he bawled. "They're all set for you at the Academy! Pick up your gear and follow me!" With a quick light step, he hopped on the rolling slidewalk at the edge of the platform and started moving away.

"Hey, Astro!" Roger Manning stopped the huge boy about to step over. "Going to carry my bags?"

The Venusian, a full head taller, hesitated and looked doubtfully at the four suitcases at Roger's feet.

"Come on," prodded Roger in a tone of mock good nature. "The gravity around here is the same as in Atom City. It's the same all over the face of the Earth. Wouldn't want you to just fly away." He snickered and looked around, winking broadly.

Astro still hesitated, "I don't know, Manning. I—uhh—"

"By the rings of Saturn! What's going on here?" Suddenly from outside the ring of boys that had gathered around, McKenny came roaring in, bulling his way to the center of the group to face Roger and Astro.

"I have a strained wrist, sir," began Roger smoothly. "And this cadet candidate"—he nodded casually toward Astro—"offered to carry my luggage. Now he refuses."

Mike glared at Astro. "Did you agree to carry this man's luggage?"

"Well—I—ah—" fumbled Astro.

"Well? Did you or didn't you?"

"I guess I sorta did, sir," replied Astro, his face turning a slow red.

"I don't hold with anyone doing another man's work, but if a Solar Guard officer, a Space Cadet, or even a cadet candidate gives his word he'll do something, he does it!" McKenny shook a finger in Astro's face, reaching up to do it. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," was the embarrassed reply.

McKenny turned to Manning who stood listening, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"What's your name, Mister?"

"Manning. Roger Manning," he answered easily.

"So you've got a strained wrist, have you?" asked Mike mockingly while sending a sweeping glance from top to bottom of the gaudy colored clothes.

"Yes, sir."

"Can't carry your own luggage, eh?"

"Yes," answered Roger evenly. "I could carry my own luggage. I thought the candidate from Venus might give me a helping hand. Nothing more. I certainly didn't intend for him to become a marked man for a simple gesture of comradeship." He glanced past McKenny toward the other boys and added softly, "And comradeship is the spirit of Space Academy, isn't it, sir?"

His face suddenly crimson, McKenny spluttered, searching for a ready answer, then turned away abruptly.

"What are you all standing around for?" he roared. "Get your gear and yourselves over on that slidewalk! [Pg 6]Blast!" He turned once again to the rolling platform. Manning smiled at Astro and hopped nimbly onto the slidewalk after McKenny, leaving his luggage in a heap in front of Astro.

"And be careful with that small case, Astro," he called as he drifted away.

"Here, Astro," said Tom. "I'll give you a hand."

"Never mind," replied Astro grimly. "I can carry 'em."

"No, let me help." Tom bent over—then suddenly straightened. "By the way, we haven't introduced ourselves. My name's Corbett—Tom Corbett." He stuck out his hand. Astro hesitated, sizing up the curly-headed boy in front of him, who stood smiling and offering friendship. Finally he pushed out his own hand and smiled back at Tom.

"Astro, but you know that by now."

"That sure was a dirty deal Manning gave you."

"Ah, I don't mind carrying his bags. It's just that I wanted to tell him he's going to have to send it all back. They don't allow a candidate to keep more than a toothbrush at the Academy."

"Guess he'll find out the hard way."

Carrying Manning's luggage as well as their own, they finally stepped on the slidewalk and began the smooth easy ride from the monorail station to the Academy. Both having felt the sharpness of Manning's tongue, and both having been dressed down by Warrant Officer McKenny, they seemed to be linked by a bond of trouble and they stood close together for mutual comfort.

As the slidewalk whisked them silently past the few remaining buildings and credit exchanges that nestled around the monorail station, Tom gave thought to his new life.

Ever since Jon Builker, the space explorer, returning from the first successful flight to a distant galaxy, came through his home town near New Chicago twelve years before, Tom had wanted to be a spaceman. Through high school and the New Chicago Primary Space School where he had taken his first flight above Earth's atmosphere, he had waited for the day when he would pass his entrance exams and be accepted as a cadet candidate in Space Academy. For no reason at all, a lump rose in his throat, as the slidewalk rounded a curve and he saw for the first time, the gleaming white magnificence of the Tower of Galileo. He recognized it immediately from the hundreds of books he had read about the Academy and stared wordlessly.

"Sure is pretty, isn't it?" asked Astro, his voice strangely husky.

"Yeah," breathed Tom in reply. "It sure is." He could only stare at the shimmering tower ahead.

"It's all I've ever wanted to do," said Tom at length. "Just get out there and—be free!"

"I know what you mean. It's the greatest feeling in the world."

"You say that as if you've already been up there."

Astro grinned. "Yup. Used to be an enlisted space sailor. Bucked rockets in an old freighter on the Luna City—Venusport run."

"Well, what are you doing here?" Tom was amazed and impressed.

"Simple. I want to be an officer. I want to get into the Solar Guard and handle the power-push in one of those cruisers."

Tom's eyes glowed with renewed admiration for his new friend. "I've been out four or five times but only in jet boats five hundred miles out. Nothing like a jump to Luna City or Venusport."

By now the slidewalk had carried them past the base of the Tower of Galileo to a large building facing the Academy quadrangle and the spell was broken by McKenny's bull-throated roar.

"Haul off, you blasted polliwogs!"

As the boys jumped off the slidewalk, a cadet, dressed in the vivid blue that Tom recognized as the official dress of the Senior Cadet Corps, walked up to McKenny and spoke to him quietly. The warrant officer turned back to the waiting group and gave rapid orders.

"By twos, follow Cadet Herbert inside and he'll assign you to your quarters. Shower, shave if you have to and can find anything to shave, and dress in the uniform that'll be supplied you. Be ready to take the Academy oath at"—he paused and glanced at the senior cadet who held up three fingers—"fifteen hundred hours. That's three o'clock. All clear? Blast off!"

Just as the boys began to move, there was a sudden blasting roar in the distance. The noise expanded and rolled across the hills surrounding Space Academy. It thundered over the grassy quadrangle, vibrating waves of sound one on top of the other, until the very air quivered under the impact.

Mouths open, eyes popping, the cadet candidates stood rooted in their tracks and stared as, in the distance, a long, thin, needlelike ship seemed to balance delicately on a column of flame, then suddenly shoot skyward and disappear.

"Pull in your eyeballs!" McKenny's voice crackled over the receding thunder. "You'll fly one of those firecrackers some day. But right now you're Earthworms, the lowest form of animal life in the Academy!"

As the boys snapped to attention again, Tom thought he caught a faint smile on Cadet Herbert's face as he stood to one side waiting for McKenny to finish his tirade. Suddenly he snapped his back straight, turned sharply and stepped through the wide doors of the building. Quickly the double line of boys followed.

"Did you see that, Astro?" asked Tom excitedly. "That was a Solar Guard patrol ship!"

"Yeah, I know," replied Astro. The big candidate from Venus scratched his chin and eyed Tom bashfully. "Say, Tom—ah, since we sort of know each other, how about us trying to get in the same quarters?"

"O.K. by me, Astro, if we can," said Tom, grinning back at his friend.

The line pressed forward to Cadet Herbert, who was now waiting at the bottom of the slidestairs, a mesh belt that spiraled upward in a narrow well to the upper stories of the building. Speaking into an audioscriber, a machine that transmitted his spoken words into typescript, he repeated the names of the candidates as they passed.

"Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," announced Tom, and Herbert repeated it into the audioscriber.

"Cadet Candidate Astro!" The big Venusian stepped forward.

"What's the rest of it, Mister?" inquired Herbert.

"That's all. Just Astro."

"No other names?"

"No, sir," replied Astro. "You see—"

"You don't say 'sir' to a senior cadet, Mister. And we're not interested in why you have only one name!" Herbert snapped.

"Yes, sir—uhh—Mister." Astro flushed and joined Tom.

"Cadet Candidate Philip Morgan," announced the next boy.

Herbert repeated the name into the machine, then announced, "Cadet Candidates Tom Corbett, Astro, and Philip Morgan assigned to Section 42-D."

Turning to the three boys, he indicated the spiraling slidestairs. "Forty-second floor. You'll find Section D in the starboard wing."

Astro and Tom immediately began to pile Manning's luggage to one side of the slidestairs.

"Take your luggage with you, Misters!" snapped Herbert.

"It isn't ours," replied Tom.

"Isn't yours?" Herbert glanced over the pile of suitcases and turned back to Tom. "Whose is it then?"

"Belongs to Cadet Candidate Roger Manning," replied Tom.

"What are you doing with it?"

"We were carrying it for him."

"Do we have a candidate in the group who finds it necessary to provide himself with valet service?"

Herbert moved along the line of boys.

"Will Cadet Candidate Roger Manning please step forward?"

Roger slid from behind a group of boys to face the senior cadet's cold stare.

"Roger Manning here," he presented himself smoothly.

"Is that your luggage?" Herbert jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"It is."

Roger smiled confidently, but Herbert merely stared coldly.

"You have a peculiar attitude for a candidate, Manning."

"Is there a prescribed attitude, Mr. Herbert?" Roger asked, his smile broadening. "If there is, I'll be only too glad to conform to it."

Herbert's face twitched almost imperceptibly. Then he nodded, made a notation on a pad and returned to his post at the head of the gaping line of boys. "From now on, Candidate Manning, you will be responsible for your own belongings."

Tom, Astro, and Philip Morgan stepped on the slidestairs and began their spiraling ascent to the forty-second floor.

"I saw what happened at the monorail station," drawled the third member of Section 42-D, leaning against the bannister of the moving belt. "By the craters of Luna, that Manning felluh sure is a hot operator."

"We found out for ourselves," grunted Astro.

"Say, since we're all bunkin' togethuh, let's get to knowin' each othuh. My name's Phil Morgan, come from Georgia. Where you all from?"

"New Chicago," replied Tom. "Name's Tom Corbett. And this is Astro."

"Hiya." Astro stuck out a big paw and grinned his wide grin. "I guess you heard. Astro's all the name I've got."

"How come?" inquired the Southerner.

"I'm from Venus and it's a custom from way back when Venus was first colonized to just hand out one name."

"Funny custom," drawled Phil.

Astro started to say something and then stopped, clamping his lips together. Tom could see his face turn a slow pink. Phil saw it too, and hastily added:

"Oh—I didn't mean anything. I—ah—" he broke off, embarrassed.

"Forget it, Phil." Astro grinned again.

"Say," interjected Tom. "Look at that!"

They all turned to look at the floor they were passing. Near the edge of the step-off platform on the fourth floor was an oaken panel, inscribed with silver lettering in relief. As they drew even with the plaque, they caught sight of someone behind them. They turned to see Manning, the pile of suitcases in front of him, reading aloud.

" ... to the brave men who sacrificed their lives in the conquest of space, this Galaxy Hall is dedicated...."

"Say, this must be the museum," said Tom. "Here's where they have all the original gear used in the first space hops."

"Absolutely right," said Manning with a smile.

"I wonder if we could get off and take a look?" Astro asked.

"Sure you can," said Roger. "In fact, the Academy regs say every cadet must inspect the exhibits in the space museum within the first week."

The members of Section 42-D looked at Roger questioningly.

"I don't know if we have time." Tom was dubious.

"Sure you have—plenty. I'd hop off and take a look myself but I've got to get this junk ready to ship home." He indicated the pile of bags in front of him.

"Aw, come on, Tom, let's take a look!" urged Astro. "They have the old Space Queen in here, the first ship to clear Earth's gravity. Boy, I'd sure like to see her!" Without waiting for the others to agree, the huge candidate stepped off the slidestairs.

"Hey, Astro!" yelled Tom. "Wait! I don't think—" His voice trailed off as the moving stair carried him up to the next floor.

But then a curious thing happened. As other boys came abreast of the museum floor and saw Astro they began to get off and follow him, wandering around gazing at the relics of the past.

Soon nearly half of the cadet candidates were standing in silent awe in front of the battered hull of the Space Queen, the first atomic-powered rocket ship allowed on exhibition only fifty years before because of the deadly radioactivity in her hull, created when a lead baffle melted in midspace and flooded the ship with murderous gamma rays.

They stood in front of the spaceship and listened while Astro, in a hushed voice, read the inscription on the bronze tablet.

"—Earth to Luna and return. 7th March 2051. In honor of the brave men of the first atomic-powered spaceship to land successfully on the planet Moon, only to perish on return to Earth...."

"Candidates—staaaaaaaaannnnnd too!"

Like a clap of thunder Warrant Officer McKenny's voice jarred the boys out of their silence. He stepped forward like a bantam rooster and faced the startled group of boys.

"I wanna know just one thing! Who stepped off that slidestairs first?"

The boys all hesitated.

"I guess I was the first, sir," said Astro, stepping forward.

"Oh, you guess you were, eh?" roared McKenny.

Taking a deep breath McKenny launched into a blistering tirade. His choice of words were to be long remembered by the group and repeated to succeeding classes. Storming against the huge Venusian like a pygmy attacking an elephant, McKenny roared, berated and blasted.

Later, when Astro finally reached his quarters and changed into the green coveralls of the cadet candidates, Tom and Phil crowded around him.

"It was Roger, blast him!" said Tom angrily. "He was getting back at you because Cadet Herbert made him carry his own gear."

"I asked for it," grumbled Astro. "Ah, I should've known better. But I just couldn't wait to see the Queen." He balled his huge hands into tight knots and stared at the floor.

"Now hear this!!!"

A voice suddenly rasped over the PA system loud-speaker above the door. "All cadet candidates will come to attention to receive the Space Academy oath from Commander Walters." The voice paused. "AT-TENT-SHUN! Cadet candidates—Staaaaannnnd TO!"

"This is Commander Walters speaking!" A deep, powerful voice purred through the speaker. "The Academy oath is taken individually.

"It is something each candidate locks in his spirit, his mind and his heart. That is why it is taken in your quarters. The oath is not a show of color, it is a way of life. Each candidate will face as closely as possible in the direction of his home and swear by his own individual God as he repeats after me."

Astro stepped quickly to the window port and gazed into the blue heavens, eyes searching out the misty planet Venus. Phil Morgan thought a moment, and faced toward the wall with the inlaid star chart of the sky, thinking of sun-bathed Georgia. Tom Corbett stared straight at a blank wall.

Each boy did not see what was in front of him yet he saw further, perhaps, than he had ever seen before. He looked into a future which held the limitlessness of the universe and new worlds and planets to be lifted out of the oblivion of uncharted depths of space to come.

They repeated slowly....

" ... I solemnly swear to uphold the Constitution of the Solar Alliance, to obey interplanetary law, to protect the liberties of the planets, to safeguard the freedom of space and to uphold the cause of peace throughout the universe ... to this end, I dedicate my life!"

Heather E. Schwartz Inspires Young Girls to Serve Their Nation

From GeekMom.com: Heather E. Schwartz Inspires Young Girls to Serve Their Nation

Earlier this year, GeekMom Kathy recommended I contact one of her colleagues, children’s author Heather E. Schwartz, about reviewing her two books about women in the U.S. armed forces that were published earlier this year. She thought I’d be an appropriate candidate, not only as a military member myself, but because I have elementary-school aged children of the appropriate age-level for the books — even if they aren’t girls.

Ms. Schwartz graciously sent me her two books and my sons read them this summer with enthusiasm. They especially enjoyed Women of the U.S. Air Force: Aiming High, since they live in an Air Force family in an Air Force community. They were less interested in the Marine Corps version, Women of the U.S. Marine Corps: Breaking Barriers. That’s certainly no fault of the author. My oldest son read it anyway to help with his Accelerated Reader goals for his 3rd grade class.

These are perfect non-fiction books for elementary-aged children who are on the cusp between picture books and chapter books. Both books are similarly laid out. Aiming High and Breaking Barriers both have 32 pages in 4 chapters, plus a glossary, timeline, internet sites and an index.

The first chapters feature recent notable military women, who have worked hard and both had opportunities to to be the first women to perform high-visibility roles. In Aiming High, Ms. Schwartz interviewed Major Nicole Malachowski, the Air Force’s first female pilot for The Thunderbirds, the service’s aerial demonstration team. In Breaking Barriers, chapter one featured Major Jennifer Greives, the first-ever Marine One VH-3D pilot. I enjoyed these particular choices of role models for the books because in both cases, these are women who could excel and break gender barriers in a more reasonable point in their careers, rather than as General officers. Kudos to Ms. Schwartz to giving girls a more of a goal than “I want to be a General in the armed forces.” I know that sounds rather odd, that we should always tell our girls to be whatever they can be, but I think to be a pilot is a very attainable goal with very clear intermediate objectives.

The second chapters feature histories of women in their respective services. The histories are brief and are written to a 4th-5th grade level, which means that although much detail is omitted, there’s no doubt that a child will learn a lot here, thanks to the age-appropriate word choices. Definitions of several military jargon words, such as “deployment”, are defined as breakout-boxes on the same pages. Ms. Schwartz did a great job pulling historical images; I especially like the “Lady Leatherneck” cartoon about Lucy Brewer she found for Breaking Barriers on page 11.

The third chapter discusses the current process by which a young woman can join the service, attend training, and learn a skill from pilot training to engineering to even serving in the astronaut corps!

Finally, the fourth chapters cover the future of women serving and provides gems of inspiration for how girls can themselves serve in the armed forces. It provides some statistics about women serving, some insights into women in combat, and some other inspirational role models in the Air Force . Great inspiration for no matter what she wants to be when she grows up — it’s just as applicable to the armed forces. At the end of Chapter 4 in both books are a “Fast Facts” section and a timeline.

In summary, if you see a future Zoomie or Jarhead in your daughter or other young lady in your life, these books would make great gifts!

P.S.: It’s a coincidence that the day I wrote this review, the U.S. Air Force press service published this article about an all-female cargo aircraft crew flying in support of Operation ENDURING FREEDOM. This now happens more often than one might think, and to the girls on board, they barely even notice they’re all-women. To them they’re all Airmen!

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Patricia Vollmer is a geeky meteorologist mother of two emerging geek sons, ages 6 & 9. She spent 10 years on active duty in the U.S. Air Force before becoming an AF Reservist in 2005. Hobbies include crocheting, running, cooking, and exploring the world with her boys. Ask her why the sky is blue at your own risk. She blogs about her Air Force family life at Ground Control to Major Mom. The opinions expressed here are not necessarily those of the United States Air Force.