diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:13:10 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:13:10 -0700 |
| commit | 9a5b838251cee2bcbec750dc41fb62d2a44058bb (patch) | |
| tree | ad05cf5de864e5ed0ac2f81c50d9a58830ff773e /24370-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '24370-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/24370-h.htm | 4835 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/001-1.png | bin | 0 -> 5721 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/001-2.png | bin | 0 -> 8871 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/002.png | bin | 0 -> 24602 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/003-1.png | bin | 0 -> 5311 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/003-2.png | bin | 0 -> 20218 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/004.png | bin | 0 -> 18557 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/005.png | bin | 0 -> 27101 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 24370-h/images/006.png | bin | 0 -> 3343 bytes |
9 files changed, 4835 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/24370-h/24370-h.htm b/24370-h/24370-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f2140a --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/24370-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4835 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mercenary, by Mack Reynolds + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1,h2 {text-align: center;} + + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + .maj {width: 65%; margin: 2em auto;} + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .figcenter {margin: 1em auto; width: 144px;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; padding: 0; width: 167px; margin: 1em 1em 1em 0;} + + .figtitl {float: left; clear: left; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 600px;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin: 1em 0 1em 1em; padding: 0; width: 495px;} + + .trans1 {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + + img {border: none; display: block;} + + p.cap:first-letter {font-size: 200%; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: .7em;} + + .titl {margin: 0 auto; width: 600px; text-align: justify;} + .titl h2 {font-size: large; margin-bottom: 0em;} + .illo {font-size: small; text-align: center; clear: both;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mercenary, by Dallas McCord Reynolds + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mercenary + +Author: Dallas McCord Reynolds + +Illustrator: Lloyd Birmingham + +Release Date: January 20, 2008 [EBook #24370] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MERCENARY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="titl"> +<div class="figtitl" style="width: 219px;"> +<img src="images/001-1.png" width="219" height="304" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="figtitl"> +<img src="images/001-2.png" width="600" height="119" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h1>MERCENARY</h1> + +<b>Every status-quo-caste society in history +has left open two roads to rise above your +caste: The Priest and The Warrior. But in +a society of TV and tranquilizers—the +Warrior acquires a strange new meaning....</b> + +<h2>BY MACK REYNOLDS</h2></div> + +<p class="illo"><b>ILLUSTRATED BY BIRMINGHAM</b></p> + +<p class="cap">Joseph Mauser spotted the recruiting +line-up from two or three blocks +down the street, shortly after driving +into Kingston. The local offices of +Vacuum Tube Transport, undoubtedly. +Baron Haer would be doing his +recruiting for the fracas with Continental +Hovercraft there if for no other +reason than to save on rents. The +Baron was watching pennies on +this one and that was bad.</p> + +<p>In fact, it was so bad that even as +Joe Mauser let his sports hovercar +sink to a parking level and vaulted +over its side he was still questioning +his decision to sign up with the Vacuum +Tube outfit rather than with +their opponents. Joe was an old pro +and old pros do not get to be old +pros in the Category Military without +developing an instinct to stay +away from losing sides.</p> + +<p>Fine enough for Low-Lowers and +Mid-Lowers to sign up with this outfit, +as opposed to that, motivated by +no other reasoning than the snappiness +of the uniform and the stock +shares offered, but an old pro considered +carefully such matters as +budget. Baron Haer was watching +every expense, was, it was rumored, +figuring on commanding himself and +calling upon relatives and friends for +his staff. Continental Hovercraft, on +the other hand, was heavy with variable +capital and was in a position to +hire Stonewall Cogswell himself for +their tactician.</p> + +<p>However, the die was cast. You +didn't run up a caste level, not to +speak of two at once, by playing it +careful. Joe had planned this out; for +once, old pro or not, he was taking +risks.</p> + +<p>Recruiting line-ups were not for +such as he. Not for many a year, +many a fracas. He strode rapidly +along this one, heading for the offices +ahead, noting only in passing +the quality of the men who were taking +service with Vacuum Tube Transport. +These were the soldiers he'd be +commanding in the immediate future +and the prospects looked grim. There +were few veterans among them. Their +stance, their demeanor, their ... +well, you could tell a veteran even +though he be Rank Private. You +could tell a veteran of even one fracas. +It showed.</p> + +<p>He knew the situation. The word +had gone out. Baron Malcolm Haer +was due for a defeat. You weren't +going to pick up any lush bonuses +signing up with him, and you definitely +weren't going to jump a caste. +In short, no matter what Haer's past +record, choose what was going to be +the winning side—Continental Hovercraft. +Continental Hovercraft and +old Stonewall Cogswell who had lost +so few fracases that many a Telly +buff couldn't remember a single one.</p> + +<p>Individuals among these men +showed promise, Joe Mauser estimated +even as he walked, but promise +means little if you don't live long +enough to cash in on it.</p> + +<p>Take that small man up ahead. +He'd obviously got himself into a +hassle maintaining his place in line +against two or three heftier would-be +soldiers. The little fellow wasn't +backing down a step in spite of the +attempts of the other Lowers to +usurp his place. Joe Mauser liked to +see such spirit. You could use it when +you were in the dill.</p> + +<p>As he drew abreast of the altercation, +he snapped from the side of his +mouth, "Easy, lads. You'll get all the +scrapping you want with Hovercraft. +Wait until then."</p> + +<p>He'd expected his tone of authority +to be enough, even though he was +in mufti. He wasn't particularly interested +in the situation, beyond giving +the little man a hand. A veteran +would have recognized him as an old-timer +and probable officer, and heeded, +automatically.</p> + +<p>These evidently weren't veterans.</p> + +<p>"Says who?" one of the Lowers +growled back at him. "You one of +Baron Haer's kids, or something?"</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser came to a halt and +faced the other. He was irritated, +largely with himself. He didn't want +to be bothered. Nevertheless, there +was no alternative now.</p> + +<p>The line of men, all Lowers so far +as Joe could see, had fallen silent +in an expectant hush. They were +bored with their long wait. Now +something would break the monotony.</p> + +<p>By tomorrow, Joe Mauser would +be in command of some of these +men. In as little as a week he would +go into a full-fledged fracas with +them. He couldn't afford to lose face. +Not even at this point when all, including +himself, were still civilian +garbed. When matters pickled, in a +fracas, you wanted men with complete +confidence in you.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">The man who had grumbled the +surly response was a near physical +twin of Joe Mauser which put him in +his early thirties, gave him five foot +eleven of altitude and about one hundred +and eighty pounds. His clothes +casted him Low-Lower—nothing to +lose. As with many who have nothing +to lose, he was willing to risk all +for principle. His face now registered +that ideal. Joe Mauser had no authority +over him, nor his friends.</p> + +<p>Joe's eyes flicked to the other two +who had been pestering the little +fellow. They weren't quite so aggressive +and as yet had come to no conclusion +about their stand. Probably +the three had been unacquainted before +their bullying alliance to deprive +the smaller man of his place. +However, a moment of hesitation +and Joe would have a trio on his +hands.</p> + +<p>He went through no further verbal +preliminaries. Joe Mauser stepped +closer. His right hand lanced forward, +not doubled in a fist but fingers +close together and pointed, spear-like. +He sank it into the other's abdomen, +immediately below the rib cage—the +solar plexus.</p> + +<p>He had misestimated the other +two. Even as his opponent crumpled, +they were upon him, coming in from +each side. And at least one of them, +he could see now, had been in hand-to-hand +combat before. In short, another +pro, like Joe himself.</p> + +<p>He took one blow, rolling with it, +and his feet automatically went into +the shuffle of the trained fighter. He +retreated slightly to erect defenses, +plan attack. They pressed him strongly, +sensing victory in his retreat.</p> + +<p>The one mattered little to him. +Joe Mauser could have polished off +the oaf in a matter of seconds, had +he been allotted seconds to devote. +But the second, the experienced one, +was the problem. He and Joe were +well matched and with the oaf as an +ally really he had all the best of it.</p> + +<p>Support came from a forgotten +source, the little chap who had been +the reason for the whole hassle. He +waded in now as big as the next man +so far as spirit was concerned, but a +sorry fate gave him to attack the +wrong man, the veteran rather than +the tyro. He took a crashing blow to +the side of his head which sent him +sailing back into the recruiting line, +now composed of excited, shouting +verbal participants of the fray.</p> + +<p>However, the extinction of Joe +Mauser's small ally had taken a moment +or two and time was what Joe +needed most. For a double second he +had the oaf alone on his hands and +that was sufficient. He caught a flailing +arm, turned his back and automatically +went into the movements +which result in that spectacular hold +of the wrestler, the Flying Mare. +Just in time he recalled that his opponent +was a future comrade-in-arms +and twisted the arm so that it bent +at the elbow, rather than breaking. +He hurled the other over his shoulder +and as far as possible, to take the +scrap out of him, and twirled quickly +to meet the further attack of his sole +remaining foe.</p> + +<p>That phase of the combat failed to +materialize.</p> + +<p>A voice of command bit out, "Hold +it, you lads!"</p> + +<p>The original situation which had +precipitated the fight was being duplicated. +But while the three Lowers +had failed to respond to Joe Mauser's +tone of authority, there was no similar +failure now.</p> + +<p>The owner of the voice, beautifully +done up in the uniform of Vacuum +Tube Transport, complete to +kilts and the swagger stick of the officer +of Rank Colonel or above, stood +glaring at them. Age, Joe estimated, +even as he came to attention, somewhere +in the late twenties—an Upper +in caste. Born to command. His face +holding that arrogant, contemptuous +expression once common to the patricians +of Rome, the Prussian Junkers, +the British ruling class of the +Nineteenth Century. Joe knew the +expression well. How well he knew +it. On more than one occasion, he had +dreamt of it.</p> + +<p>Joe said, "Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"What in Zen goes on here? Are +you lads overtranked?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," Joe's veteran opponent +grumbled, his eyes on the ground, a +schoolboy before the principal.</p> + +<p>Joe said, evenly, "A private disagreement, +sir."</p> + +<p>"Disagreement!" the Upper snorted. +His eyes went to the three fallen +combatants, who were in various +stages of reviving. "I'd hate to see +you lads in a real scrap."</p> + +<p>That brought a response from the +non-combatants in the recruiting +line. The <i>bon mot</i> wasn't that good +but caste has its privileges and the +laughter was just short of uproarious.</p> + +<p>Which seemed to placate the kilted +officer. He tapped his swagger stick +against the side of his leg while he +ran his eyes up and down Joe Mauser +and the others, as though memorizing +them for future reference.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said. "Get back into +the line, and you trouble makers +quiet down. We're processing as +quickly as we can." And at that point +he added insult to injury with an almost +word for word repetition of +what Joe had said a few moments +earlier. "You'll get all the fighting +you want from Hovercraft, if you +can wait until then."</p> + +<p>The four original participants of +the rumpus resumed their places in +various stages of sheepishness. The +little fellow, nursing an obviously +aching jaw, made a point of taking +up his original position even while +darting a look of thanks to Joe Mauser +who still stood where he had +when the fight was interrupted.</p> + +<p>The Upper looked at Joe. "Well, +lad, are you interested in signing up +with Vacuum Tube Transport or +not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Joe said evenly. Then, +"Joseph Mauser, sir. Category Military, +Rank Captain."</p> + +<p>"Indeed." The officer looked him +up and down all over again, his nostrils +high. "A Middle, I assume. And +brawling with recruits." He held a +long silence. "Very well, come with +me." He turned and marched off.</p> + +<p>Joe inwardly shrugged. This was a +fine start for his pitch—a fine start. +He had half a mind to give it all up, +here and now, and head on up to +Catskill to enlist with Continental +Hovercraft. His big scheme would +wait for another day. Nevertheless, +he fell in behind the aristocrat and +followed him to the offices which +had been his original destination.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Two Rank Privates with 45-70 +Springfields and wearing the Haer +kilts in such wise as to indicate +permanent status in Vacuum Tube +Transport came to the salute as they +approached. The Upper preceding +Joe Mauser flicked his swagger stick +in an easy nonchalance. Joe felt envious +amusement. How long did it +take to learn how to answer a salute +with that degree of arrogant ease?</p> + +<p>There were desks in here, and typers +humming, as Vacuum Tube +Transport office workers, mobilized +for this special service, processed volunteers +for the company forces. Harried +noncoms and junior-grade officers +buzzed everywhere, failing miserably +to bring order to the chaos. To +the right was a door with a medical +cross newly painted on it. When it +occasionally popped open to admit +or emit a recruit, white-robed doctors, +male nurses and half nude men +could be glimpsed beyond.</p> + +<p>Joe followed the other through +the press and to an inner office at +which door he didn't bother to knock. +He pushed his way through, waved +in greeting with his swagger stick to +the single occupant who looked up +from the paper- and tape-strewn +desk at which he sat.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser had seen the face before +on Telly though never so tired +as this and never with the element of +defeat to be read in the expression. +Bullet-headed, barrel-figured Baron +Malcolm Haer of Vacuum Tube +Transport. Category Transportation, +Mid-Upper, and strong candidate for +Upper-Upper upon retirement. However, +there would be few who expected +retirement in the immediate +future. Hardly. Malcolm Haer found +too obvious a lusty enjoyment in the +competition between Vacuum Tube +Transport and its stronger rivals.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Joe came to attention, bore the +sharp scrutiny of his chosen commander-to-be. +The older man's eyes +went to the kilted Upper officer who +had brought Joe along. "What is it, +Balt?"</p> + +<p>The other gestured with his stick +at Joe. "Claims to be Rank Captain. +Looking for a commission with us, +Dad. I wouldn't know why." The +last sentence was added lazily.</p> + +<p>The older Haer shot an irritated +glance at his son. "Possibly for the +same reason mercenaries usually enlist +for a fracas, Balt." His eyes came +back to Joe.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser, still at attention even +though in mufti, opened his mouth +to give his name, category and rank, +but the older man waved a hand +negatively. "Captain Mauser, isn't +it? I caught the fracas between Carbonaceous +Fuel and United Miners, +down on the Panhandle Reservation. +Seems to me I've spotted you once or +twice before, too."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Joe said. This was some +improvement in the way things were +going.</p> + +<p>The older Haer was scowling at +him. "Confound it, what are you doing +with no more rank than captain? +On the face of it, you're an old hand, +a highly experienced veteran."</p> + +<p><i>An old pro, we call ourselves</i>, Joe +said to himself. <i>Old pros, we call ourselves, +among ourselves.</i></p> + +<p>Aloud, he said, "I was born a Mid-Lower, +sir."</p> + +<p>There was understanding in the +old man's face, but Balt Haer said +loftily, "What's that got to do with +it? Promotion is quick and based on +merit in Category Military."</p> + +<p>At a certain point, if you are good +combat officer material, you speak +your mind no matter the rank of the +man you are addressing. On this occasion, +Joe Mauser needed few +words. He let his eyes go up and +down Balt Haer's immaculate uniform, +taking in the swagger stick of +the Rank Colonel or above. Joe said +evenly, "Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer flushed quick temper. +"What do you mean by—"</p> + +<p>But his father was chuckling. "You +have spirit, captain. I need spirit now. +You are quite correct. My son, +though a capable officer, I assure +you, has probably not participated in +a fraction of the fracases you have +to your credit. However, there is +something to be said for the training +available to we Uppers in the academies. +For instance, captain, have you +ever commanded a body of lads larger +than, well, a <i>company</i>?"</p> + +<p>Joe said flatly, "In the Douglas-Boeing +versus Lockheed-Cessna fracas +we took a high loss of officers +when the Douglas-Boeing outfit rang +in some fast-firing French <i>mitrailleuse</i> +we didn't know they had. As +my superiors took casualties I was +field promoted to acting battalion +commander, to acting regimental +commander, to acting brigadier. For +three days I held the rank of acting +commander of brigade. We won."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer snapped his fingers. "I +remember that. Read quite a paper +on it." He eyed Joe Mauser, almost +respectfully. "Stonewall Cogswell got +the credit for the victory and received +his marshal's baton as a result."</p> + +<p>"He was one of the few other officers +that survived," Joe said dryly.</p> + +<p>"But, Zen! You mean you got no +promotion at all?"</p> + +<p>Joe said, "I was upped to Low-Middle +from High-Lower, sir. At my +age, at the time, quite a promotion."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Baron Haer was remembering, too. +"That was the fracas that brought on +the howl from the Sovs. They claimed +those <i>mitrailleuse</i> were post-1900 +and violated the Universal Disarmament +Pact. Yes, I recall that. Douglas-Boeing +was able to prove that the +weapon was used by the French as +far back as the Franco-Prussian +War." He eyed Joe with new interest +now. "Sit down, captain. You too, +Balt. Do you realize that Captain +Mauser is the only recruit of officer +rank we've had today?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the younger Haer said dryly. +"However, it's too late to call the +fracas off now. Hovercraft wouldn't +stand for it, and the Category Military +Department would back them. +Our only alternative is unconditional +surrender, and you know what that +means."</p> + +<p>"It means our family would probably +be forced from control of the +firm," the older man growled. "But +nobody has suggested surrender on +any terms. Nobody, thus far." He +glared at his officer son who took it +with an easy shrug and swung a leg +over the edge of his father's desk in +the way of a seat.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser found a chair and +lowered himself into it. Evidently, +the foppish Balt Haer had no illusions +about the spot his father had +got the family corporation into. And +the younger man was right, of course.</p> + +<p>But the Baron wasn't blind to reality +any more than he was a coward. +He dismissed Balt Haer's defeatism +from his mind and came back to Joe +Mauser. "As I say, you're the only +officer recruit today. Why?"</p> + +<p>Joe said evenly, "I wouldn't know, +sir. Perhaps freelance Category +Military men are occupied elsewhere. +There's always a shortage of trained +officers."</p> + +<p>Baron Haer was waggling a finger +negatively. "That's not what I mean, +captain. You are an old hand. This +is your category and you must know +it well. Then why are <i>you</i> signing up +with Vacuum Tube Transport rather +than Hovercraft?"</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser looked at him for a +moment without speaking.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, captain. I am an old +hand too, in my category, and not a +fool. I realize there is scarcely a soul +in the West-world that expects anything +but disaster for my colors. Pay +rates have been widely posted. I can +offer only five common shares of +Vacuum Tube for a Rank Captain, +win or lose. Hovercraft is doubling +that, and can pick and choose among +the best officers in the hemisphere."</p> + +<p>Joe said softly, "I have all the +shares I need."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer had been looking back +and forth between his father and the +newcomer and becoming obviously +more puzzled. He put in, "Well, what +in Zen motivates you if it isn't the +stock we offer?"</p> + +<p>Joe glanced at the younger Haer +to acknowledge the question but he +spoke to the Baron. "Sir, like you +said, you're no fool. However, you've +been sucked in, this time. When you +took on Hovercraft, you were thinking +in terms of a regional dispute. +You wanted to run one of your vacuum +tube deals up to Fairbanks from +Edmonton. You were expecting a +minor fracas, involving possibly five +thousand men. You never expected +Hovercraft to parlay it up, through +their connections in the Category +Military Department, to a divisional +magnitude fracas which you simply +aren't large enough to afford. But +Hovercraft was getting sick of your +corporation. You've been nicking +away at them too long. So they decided +to do you in. They've hired +Marshal Cogswell and the best combat +officers in North America, and +they're hiring the most competent +veterans they can find. Every fracas +buff who watches Telly, figures you've +had it. They've been watching you +come up the aggressive way, the +hard way, for a long time, but now +they're all going to be sitting on the +edges of their sofas waiting for you +to get it."</p> + +<p>Baron Haer's heavy face had hardened +as Joe Mauser went on relentlessly. +He growled, "Is this what everyone +thinks?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Everyone intelligent enough +to have an opinion." Joe made a motion +of his head to the outer offices +where the recruiting was proceeding. +"Those men out there are rejects +from Catskill, where old Baron +Zwerdling is recruiting. Either that +or they're inexperienced Low-Lowers, +too stupid to realize they're +sticking their necks out. Not one +man in ten is a veteran. And when +things begin to pickle, you want +veterans."</p> + +<p>Baron Malcolm Haer sat back in +his chair and stared coldly at Captain +Joe Mauser. He said, "At first I +was moderately surprised that an old +time mercenary like yourself should +choose my uniform, rather than +Zwerdling's. Now I am increasingly +mystified about motivation. So all +over again I ask you, captain: Why +are you requesting a commission in +my forces which you seem convinced +will meet disaster?"</p> + +<p>Joe wet his lips carefully. "I think +I know a way you can win."</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>II</h2> + +<p class="cap">His permanent military rank the +Haers had no way to alter, but they +were short enough of competent officers +that they gave him an acting +rating and pay scale of major and +command of a squadron of cavalry. +Joe Mauser wasn't interested in a cavalry +command this fracas, but he said +nothing. Immediately, he had to size +up the situation; it wasn't time as yet +to reveal the big scheme. And, meanwhile, +they could use him to whip the +Rank Privates into shape.</p> + +<p>He had left the offices of Baron +Haer to go through the red tape involved +in being signed up on a temporary +basis in the Vacuum Tube +Transport forces, and reentered the +confusion of the outer offices where +the Lowers were being processed and +given medicals. He reentered in time +to run into a Telly team which was +doing a live broadcast.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser remembered the news +reporter who headed the team. He'd +run into him two or three times in +fracases. As a matter of fact, although +Joe held the standard Military +Category prejudices against Telly, he +had a basic respect for this particular +newsman. On the occasions he'd seen +him before, the fellow was hot in the +midst of the action even when things +were in the dill. He took as many +chances as did the average combatant, +and you can't ask for more than +that.</p> + +<p>The other knew him, too, of +course. It was part of his job to be +able to spot the celebrities and near +celebrities. He zeroed in on Joe now, +making flicks of his hand to direct +the cameras. Joe, of course, was fully +aware of the value of Telly and was +glad to co-operate.</p> + +<p>"Captain! Captain Mauser, isn't +it? Joe Mauser who held out for four +days in the swamps of Louisiana with +a single company while his ranking +officers reformed behind him."</p> + +<p>That was one way of putting it, +but both Joe and the newscaster who +had covered the debacle knew the +reality of the situation. When the +front had collapsed, his commanders—of +Upper caste, of course—had +hauled out, leaving him to fight a +delaying action while they mended +their fences with the enemy, coming +to the best terms possible. Yes, that +had been the United Oil versus Allied +Petroleum fracas, and Joe had +emerged with little either in glory or +pelf.</p> + +<p>The average fracas fan wasn't on +an intellectual level to appreciate +anything other than victory. The +good guys win, the bad guys lose—that's +obvious, isn't it? Not one out +of ten Telly followers of the fracases +was interested in a well-conducted +retreat or holding action. They wanted +blood, lots of it, and they identified +with the winning side.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser wasn't particularly bitter +about this aspect. It was part of +his way of life. In fact, his pet peeve +was the <i>real</i> buff. The type, man or +woman, who could remember every +fracas you'd ever been in, every time +you'd copped one, and how long +you'd been in the hospital. Fans who +could remember, even better than +you could, every time the situation +had pickled on you and you'd had to +fight your way out as best you could. +They'd tell you about it, their eyes +gleaming, sometimes a slightest +trickle of spittle at the sides of their +mouths. They usually wanted an autograph, +or a souvenir such as a +uniform button.</p> + +<p>Now Joe said to the Telly reporter, +"That's right, Captain Mauser. Acting +major, in this fracas, ah—"</p> + +<p>"Freddy. Freddy Soligen. You remember +me, captain—"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do, Freddy. We've +been in the dill, side by side, more +than once, and even when I was too +scared to use my side arm, you'd be +scanning away with your camera."</p> + +<p>"Ha ha, listen to the captain, +folks. I hope my boss is tuned in. +But seriously, Captain Mauser, what +do you think the chances of Vacuum +Tube Transport are in this fracas?"</p> + +<p>Joe looked into the camera lens, +earnestly. "The best, of course, or I +wouldn't have signed up with Baron +Haer, Freddy. Justice triumphs, and +anybody who is familiar with the issues +in this fracas, knows that Baron +Haer is on the side of true right."</p> + +<p>Freddy said, holding any sarcasm +he must have felt, "What would you +say the issues were, captain?"</p> + +<p>"The basic North American free +enterprise right to compete. Hovercraft +has held a near monopoly in +transport to Fairbanks. Vacuum +Tube Transport wishes to lower costs +and bring the consumers of Fairbanks +better service through running a vacuum +tube to that area. What could be +more in the traditions of the West-world? +Continental Hovercraft stands +in the way and it is they who have +demanded of the Category Military +Department a trial by arms. On the +face of it, justice is on the side of +Baron Haer."</p> + +<p>Freddy Soligen said into the camera, +"Well, all you good people of +the Telly world, that's an able summation +the captain has made, but it +certainly doesn't jibe with the words +of Baron Zwerdling we heard this +morning, does it? However, justice +triumphs and we'll see what the field +of combat will have to offer. Thank +you, thank you very much, Captain +Mauser. All of us, all of us tuned in +today, hope that you personally will +run into no dill in this fracas."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Freddy. Thanks all," Joe +said into the camera, before turning +away. He wasn't particularly keen +about this part of the job, but you +couldn't underrate the importance of +pleasing the buffs. In the long run it +was your career, your chances for +promotion both in military rank and +ultimately in caste. It was the way +the fans took you up, boosted you, +idolized you, worshipped you if you +really made it. He, Joe Mauser, was +only a minor celebrity, he appreciated +every chance he had to be interviewed +by such a popular reporter as +Freddy Soligen.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Even as he turned, he spotted the +four men with whom he'd had his +spat earlier. The little fellow was still +to the fore. Evidently, the others had +decided the one place extra that he +represented wasn't worth the trouble +he'd put in their way defending it.</p> + +<p>On an impulse he stepped up to +the small man who began a grin of +recognition, a grin that transformed +his feisty face. A revelation of an +inner warmth beyond average in a +world which had lost much of its human +warmth.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/002.png" width="404" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Joe said, "Like a job, soldier?"</p> + +<p>"Name's Max. Max Mainz. Sure I +want a job. That's why I'm in this +everlasting line."</p> + +<p>Joe said, "First fracas for you, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah, but I had basic training in +school."</p> + +<p>"What do you weigh, Max?"</p> + +<p>Max's face soured. "About one +twenty."</p> + +<p>"Did you check out on semaphore +in school?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sure. I'm Category Food, +Sub-division Cooking, Branch Chef, +but, like I say, I took basic military +training, like most everybody else."</p> + +<p>"I'm Captain Joe Mauser. How'd +you like to be my batman?"</p> + +<p>Max screwed up his already not +overly handsome face. "Gee, I don't +know. I kinda joined up to see some +action. Get into the dill. You know +what I mean."</p> + +<p>Joe said dryly, "See here, Mainz, +you'll probably find more pickled situations +next to me than you'll want—and +you'll come out alive."</p> + +<p>The recruiting sergeant looked up +from the desk. It was Max Mainz's +turn to be processed. The sergeant +said, "Lad, take a good opportunity +when it drops in your lap. The captain +is one of the best in the field. +You'll learn more, get better chances +for promotion, if you stick with him."</p> + +<p>Joe couldn't remember ever having +run into the sergeant before, but +he said, "Thanks, sergeant."</p> + +<p>The other said, evidently realizing +Joe didn't recognize him, "We were +together on the Chihuahua Reservation, +on the jurisdictional fracas between +the United Miners and the +Teamsters, sir."</p> + +<p>It had been almost fifteen years +ago. About all that Joe Mauser remembered +of that fracas was the abnormal +number of casualties they'd +taken. His side had lost, but from +this distance in time Joe couldn't even +remember what force he'd been with. +But now he said, "That's right. I +thought I recognized you, sergeant."</p> + +<p>"It was my first fracas, sir." The +sergeant went businesslike. "If you +want I should hustle this lad though, +captain—"</p> + +<p>"Please do, sergeant." Joe added to +Max, "I'm not sure where my billet +will be. When you're through all this, +locate the officer's mess and wait +there for me."</p> + +<p>"Well, O.K.," Max said doubtfully, +still scowling but evidently a servant +of an officer, if he wanted to be or +not.</p> + +<p>"Sir," the sergeant added ominously. +"If you've had basic, you know +enough how to address an officer."</p> + +<p>"Well, yessir," Max said hurriedly.</p> + +<p>Joe began to turn away, but then +spotted the man immediately behind +Max Mainz. He was one of the three +with whom Joe had tangled earlier, +the one who'd obviously had previous +combat experience. He pointed +the man out to the sergeant. "You'd +better give this lad at least temporary +rank of corporal. He's a veteran and +we're short of veterans."</p> + +<p>The sergeant said, "Yes, sir. We +sure are." Joe's former foe looked +properly thankful.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Joe Mauser finished off his own red +tape and headed for the street to locate +a military tailor who could do +him up a set of the Haer kilts and fill +his other dress requirements. As he +went, he wondered vaguely just how +many different uniforms he had worn +in his time.</p> + +<p>In a career as long as his own from +time to time you took semi-permanent +positions in bodyguards, company +police, or possibly the permanent +combat troops of this corporation +or that. But largely, if you were +ambitious, you signed up for the fracases +and that meant into a uniform +and out of it again in as short a period +as a couple of weeks.</p> + +<p>At the door he tried to move aside +but was too slow for the quick moving +young woman who caromed off +him. He caught her arm to prevent +her from stumbling. She looked at +him with less than thanks.</p> + +<p>Joe took the blame for the collision. +"Sorry," he said. "I'm afraid +I didn't see you, Miss."</p> + +<p>"Obviously," she said coldly. Her +eyes went up and down him, and for +a moment he wondered where he +had seen her before. Somewhere, he +was sure.</p> + +<p>She was dressed as they dress who +have never considered cost and she +had an elusive beauty which would +have been even the more hadn't her +face projected quite such a serious +outlook. Her features were more delicate +than those to which he was usually +attracted. Her lips were less full, +but still— He was reminded of the +classic ideal of the British Romantic +Period, the women sung of by Byron +and Keats, Shelly and Moore.</p> + +<p>She said, "Is there any particular +reason why you should be staring at +me, Mr.—"</p> + +<p>"Captain Mauser," Joe said hurriedly. +"I'm afraid I've been rude, +Miss—Well, I thought I recognized +you."</p> + +<p>She took in his civilian dress, typed +it automatically, and came to an erroneous +conclusion. She said, "Captain? +You mean that with everyone +else I know drawing down ranks from +Lieutenant Colonel to Brigadier General, +you can't make anything better +than Captain?"</p> + +<p>Joe winced. He said carefully, "I +came up from the ranks, Miss. Captain +is quite an achievement, believe +me."</p> + +<p>"Up from the ranks!" She took in +his clothes again. "You mean you're +a Middle? You neither talk nor look +like a Middle, captain." She used the +caste rating as though it was not +<i>quite</i> a derogatory term.</p> + +<p>Not that she meant to be deliberately +insulting, Joe knew, wearily. +How well he knew. It was simply +born in her. As once a well-educated +aristocracy had, not necessarily unkindly, +named their status inferiors +<i>niggers</i>; or other aristocrats, in another +area of the country, had named +theirs <i>greasers</i>. Yes, how well he +knew.</p> + +<p>He said very evenly, "Mid-Middle +now, Miss. However, I was born in +the Lower castes."</p> + +<p>An eyebrow went up. "Zen! You +must have put in many an hour +studying. You talk like an Upper, +captain." She dropped all interest in +him and turned to resume her journey.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment," Joe said. "You +can't go in there, Miss—"</p> + +<p>Her eyebrows went up again. "The +name is Haer," she said. "Why can't +I go in here, captain?"</p> + +<p>Now it came to him why he had +thought he recognized her. She had +basic features similar to those of that +overbred poppycock, Balt Haer.</p> + +<p>"Sorry," Joe said. "I suppose under +the circumstances, you can. I was +about to tell you that they're recruiting +with lads running around half +clothed. Medical inspections, that sort +of thing."</p> + +<p>She made a noise through her nose +and said over her shoulder, even as +she sailed on. "Besides being a Haer, +I'm an M.D., captain. At the ludicrous +sight of a man shuffling about +in his shorts, I seldom blush."</p> + +<p>She was gone.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser looked after her. "I'll +bet you don't," he muttered.</p> + +<p>Had she waited a few minutes he +could have explained his Upper accent +and his unlikely education. When +you'd copped one you had plenty of +opportunity in hospital beds to read, +to study, to contemplate—and to +fester away in your own schemes of +rebellion against fate. And Joe had +copped many in his time.</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>III</h2> + +<p class="cap">By the time Joe Mauser called it a +day and retired to his quarters he +was exhausted to the point where his +basic dissatisfaction with the trade he +followed was heavily upon him.</p> + +<p>He had met his immediate senior +officers, largely dilettante Uppers +with precious little field experience, +and was unimpressed. And he'd met +his own junior officers and was +shocked. By the looks of things at +this stage, Captain Mauser's squadron +would be going into this fracas +both undermanned with Rank Privates +and with junior officers composed +largely of temporarily promoted +noncoms. If this was typical of +Baron Haer's total force, then Balt +Haer had been correct; unconditional +surrender was to be considered, no +matter how disastrous to Haer family +fortunes.</p> + +<p>Joe had been able to take immediate +delivery of one kilted uniform. +Now, inside his quarters, he began +stripping out of his jacket. Somewhat +to his surprise, the small man he had +selected earlier in the day to be his +batman entered from an inner room, +also resplendent in the Haer uniform +and obviously happily so.</p> + +<p>He helped his superior out of the +jacket with an ease that held no subservience +but at the same time was +correctly respectful. You'd have +thought him a batman specially +trained.</p> + +<p>Joe grunted, "Max, isn't it? I'd forgotten +about you. Glad you found +our billet all right."</p> + +<p>Max said, "Yes, sir. Would +the captain like a drink? I picked up +a bottle of applejack. Applejack's +the drink around here, sir. Makes a +topnotch highball with ginger ale and +a twist of lemon."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser looked at him. Evidently +his tapping this man for orderly +had been sheer fortune. Well, +Joe Mauser could use some good +luck on this job. He hoped it didn't +end with selecting a batman.</p> + +<p>Joe said, "An applejack highball +sounds wonderful, Max. Got ice?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, sir." Max left the small +room.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser and his officers were +billeted in what had once been a +motel on the old road between Kingston +and Woodstock. There was a +shower and a tiny kitchenette in each +cottage. That was one advantage in a +fracas held in an area where there +were plenty of facilities. Such military +reservations as that of the Little +Big Horn in Montana and particularly +some of those in the South +West and Mexico, were another +thing.</p> + +<p>Joe lowered himself into the +room's easy-chair and bent down to +untie his laces. He kicked his shoes +off. He could use that drink. He began +wondering all over again if his +scheme for winning this Vacuum +Tube Transport versus Continental +Hovercraft fracas would come off. +The more he saw of Baron Haer's +inadequate forces, the more he wondered. +He hadn't expected Vacuum +Tube to be in <i>this</i> bad a shape. +Baron Haer had been riding high for +so long that one would have thought +his reputation for victory would have +lured many a veteran to his colors. +Evidently they hadn't bitten. The +word was out all right.</p> + +<p>Max Mainz returned with the +drink.</p> + +<p>Joe said, "You had one yourself?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>Joe said, "Well, Zen, go get yourself +one and come on back and sit +down. Let's get acquainted."</p> + +<p>"Well, yessir." Max disappeared +back into the kitchenette to return +almost immediately. The little man +slid into a chair, drink awkwardly in +hand.</p> + +<p>His superior sized him up, all over +again. Not much more than a kid, +really. Surprisingly aggressive for a +Lower who must have been raised +from childhood in a trank-bemused, +Telly-entertained household. The +fact that he'd broken away from that +environment at all was to his credit, +it was considerably easier to conform. +But then it is always easier to +conform, to run with the herd, as +Joe well knew. His own break hadn't +been an easy one. "Relax," he said +now.</p> + +<p>Max said, "Well, this is my first +day."</p> + +<p>"I know. And you've been seeing +Telly shows all your life showing +how an orderly conducts himself in +the presence of his superior." Joe +took another pull and yawned. +"Well, forget about it. With any +man who goes into a fracas with me, +I like to be on close terms. When +things pickle, I want him to be on +my side, not nursing some peeve +brought on by his officer trying to +give him an inferiority complex."</p> + +<p>The little man was eying him in +surprise.</p> + +<p>Joe finished his highball and came +to his feet to get another one. He +said, "On two occasions I've had an +orderly save my life. I'm not taking +any chances but that there might be +a third opportunity."</p> + +<p>"Well, yessir. Does the captain +want me to get him—"</p> + +<p>"I'll get it," Joe said.</p> + +<p>When he'd returned to his chair, +he said, "Why did you join up with +Baron Haer, Max?"</p> + +<p>The other shrugged it off. "The +usual. The excitement. The idea of +all those fans watching me on Telly. +The share of common stock I'll get. +And, you never know, maybe a promotion +in caste. I wouldn't mind +making Upper-Lower."</p> + +<p>Joe said sourly, "One fracas and +you'll be over that desire to have the +buffs watching you on Telly while +they sit around in their front rooms +sucking on tranks. And you'll probably +be over the desire for the excitement, +too. Of course, the share of +stock is another thing."</p> + +<p>"You aren't just countin' down, +captain," Max said, an almost surly +overtone in his voice. "You don't +know what it's like being born with +no more common stock shares than a +Mid-Lower."</p> + +<p>Joe held his peace, sipping at his +drink, taking this one more slowly. +He let his eyebrows rise to encourage +the other to go on.</p> + +<p>Max said doggedly, "Sure, they +call it People's Capitalism and everybody +gets issued enough shares to +insure him a basic living all the way +from the cradle to the grave, like +they say. But let me tell you, you're +a Middle and you don't realize how +basic the basic living of a Lower can +be."</p> + +<p>Joe yawned. If he hadn't been so +tired, there would have been more +amusement in the situation.</p> + +<p>Max was still dogged. "Unless you +can add to those shares of stock, it's +pretty drab, captain. You wouldn't +know."</p> + +<p>Joe said, "Why don't you work? A +Lower can always add to his stock +by working."</p> + +<p>Max stirred in indignity. "Work? +Listen, sir, that's just one more field +that's been automated right out of +existence. Category Food Preparation, +Sub-division Cooking, Branch +Chef. Cooking isn't left in the hands +of slobs who might drop a cake of +soap into the soup. It's done automatic. +The only new changes made +in cooking are by real top experts, +almost scientists like. And most of +them are Uppers, mind you."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser sighed inwardly. So +his find in batmen wasn't going to be +as wonderful as all that, after all. +The man might have been born into +the food preparation category from a +long line of chefs, but evidently he +knew precious little about his field. +Joe might have suspected. He himself +had been born into Clothing Category, +Sub-division Shoes, Branch +Repair—Cobbler—a meaningless +trade since shoes were no longer repaired +but discarded upon showing +signs of wear. In an economy of +complete abundance, there is little +reason for repair of basic commodities. +It was high time the government +investigated category assignment and +reshuffled and reassigned half the +nation's population. But then, of +course, was the question of what to +do with the technologically unemployed.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Max was saying, "The only way I +could figure on a promotion to a +higher caste, or the only way to earn +stock shares, was by crossing categories. +And you know what that +means. Either Category Military, or +Category Religion and I sure as Zen +don't know nothing about religion."</p> + +<p>Joe said mildly, "Theoretically, +you can cross categories into any +field you want, Max."</p> + +<p>Max snorted. "Theoretically is +right ... sir. You ever heard about +anybody born a Lower, or even a +Middle like yourself, cross categories +to, say, some Upper category like +banking?"</p> + +<p>Joe chuckled. He liked this peppery +little fellow. If Max worked out +as well as Joe thought he might, +there was a possibility of taking him +along to the next fracas.</p> + +<p>Max was saying, "I'm not saying +anything against the old time way of +doing things or talking against the +government, but I'll tell you, captain, +every year goes by it gets harder +and harder for a man to raise his +caste or to earn some additional +stock shares."</p> + +<p>The applejack had worked enough +on Joe for him to rise against one of +his pet peeves. He said, "That term, +the old time way, is strictly Telly +talk, Max. We don't do things <i>the +old time way</i>. No nation in history +ever has—with the possible exception +of Egypt. Socio-economics are +in a continual flux and here in this +country we no more do things in the +way they did fifty years ago, than +fifty years ago they did them the +way the American Revolutionists +outlined back in the Eighteenth +Century."</p> + +<p>Max was staring at him. "I don't +get that, sir."</p> + +<p>Joe said impatiently, "Max, the +politico-economic system we have +today is an outgrowth of what went +earlier. The welfare state, the freezing +of the status quo, the Frigid +Fracas between the West-world and +the Sov-world, industrial automation +until useful employment is all but +needless—all these things were to be +found in embryo more than fifty +years ago."</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe the captain's right, +but you gotta admit, sir, that mostly +we do things the old way. We still +got the Constitution and the two-party +system and—"</p> + +<p>Joe was wearying of the conversation +now. You seldom ran into anyone, +even in Middle caste, the traditionally +professional class, interested +enough in such subjects to be worth +arguing with. He said, "The Constitution, +Max, has got to the point of +the Bible. Interpret it the way you +wish, and you can find anything. If +not, you can always make a new +amendment. So far as the two-party +system is concerned, what effect does +it have when there are no differences +between the two parties? That +phase of pseudo-democracy was beginning +as far back as the 1930s +when they began passing State laws +hindering the emerging of new political +parties. By the time they were +insured against a third party working +its way through the maze of +election laws, the two parties had +become so similar that elections became +almost as big a farce as over +in the Sov-world."</p> + +<p>"A farce?" Max ejaculated indignantly, +forgetting his servant status. +"That means not so good, doesn't it? +Far as I'm concerned, election day is +tops. The one day a Lower is just as +good as an Upper. The one day how +many shares you got makes no difference. +Everybody has everything."</p> + +<p>"Sure, sure, sure," Joe sighed. +"The modern equivalent of the Roman +Bacchanalia. Election day in the +West-world when no one, for just +that one day, is freer than anyone +else."</p> + +<p>"Well, what's wrong with that?" +The other was all but belligerent. +"That's the trouble with you Middles +and Uppers, you don't know +how it is to be a Lower and—"</p> + +<p>Joe snapped suddenly, "I was +born a Mid-Lower myself, Max. +Don't give me that nonsense."</p> + +<p>Max gaped at him, utterly unbelieving.</p> + +<p>Joe's irritation fell away. He held +out his glass. "Get us a couple of +more drinks, Max, and I'll tell you a +story."</p> + +<p>By the time the fresh drink came, +Joe Mauser was sorry he'd made the +offer. He thought back. He hadn't +told anyone the Joe Mauser story in +many a year. And, as he recalled, the +last time had been when he was well +into his cups, on an election day at +that, and his listener had been a +Low-Upper, a hereditary aristocrat, +one of the one per cent of the upper +strata of the nation. Zen! How the +man had laughed. He'd roared his +amusement till the tears ran.</p> + +<p>However, Joe said, "Max, I was +born in the same caste you were—average +father, mother, sisters and +brothers. They subsisted on the basic +income guaranteed from birth, sat +and watched Telly for an unbelievable +number of hours each day, took +trank to keep themselves happy. And +thought I was crazy because I didn't. +Dad was the sort of man who'd take +his belt off to a child of his who questioned +such school taught slogans as +<i>What was good enough for Daddy +is good enough for me</i>.</p> + +<p>"They were all fracas fans, of +course. As far back as I can remember +the picture is there of them gathered +around the Telly, screaming excitement." +Joe Mauser sneered, uncharacteristically.</p> + +<p>"You don't sound much like you're +in favor of your trade, captain," Max +said.</p> + +<p>Joe came to his feet, putting down +his still half-full glass. "I'll make this +epic story short, Max. As you said, +the two actually valid methods of +rising above the level in which you +were born are in the Military and +Religious Categories. Like you, even +I couldn't stomach the latter."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser hesitated, then finished +it off. "Max, there have been +few societies that man has evolved +that didn't allow in some manner for +the competent or sly, the intelligent +or the opportunist, the brave or the +strong, to work his way to the top. I +don't know which of these I personally +fit into, but I rebel against remaining +in the lower categories of a +stratified society. Do I make myself +clear?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no sir, not exactly."</p> + +<p>Joe said flatly, "I'm going to fight +my way to the top, and nothing is +going to stand in the way. Is that +clearer?"</p> + +<p>"Yessir," Max said, taken aback.</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p class="cap">After routine morning duties, Joe +Mauser returned to his billet and +mystified Max Mainz by not only +changing into mufti himself but having +Max do the same.</p> + +<p>In fact, the new batman protested +faintly. He hadn't nearly, as yet, got +over the glory of wearing his kilts +and was looking forward to parading +around town in them. He had a +point, of course. The appointed time +for the fracas was getting closer and +buffs were beginning to stream into +town to bask in the atmosphere of +threatened death. Everybody knew +what a military center, on the outskirts +of a fracas reservation such as +the Catskills, was like immediately +preceding a clash between rival +corporations. The high-strung gaiety, +the drinking, the overtranking, the +relaxation of mores. Even a Rank +Private had it made. Admiring civilians +to buy drinks and hang on +your every word, and more important +still, sensuous-eyed women, +their faces slack in thinly suppressed +passion. It was a recognized phenomenon, +even Max Mainz knew—this +desire on the part of women +Telly fans to date a man, and then +watch him later, killing or being +killed.</p> + +<p>"Time enough to wear your fancy +uniform," Joe Mauser growled at +him. "In fact, tomorrow's a local +election day. Parlay that up on top +of all the fracas fans gravitating into +town and you'll have a wingding the +likes of nothing you've seen before."</p> + +<p>"Well yessir," Max begrudged. +"Where're we going now, captain?"</p> + +<p>"To the airport. Come along."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser led the way to his +sports hovercar and as soon as the +two were settled into the bucket +seats, hit the lift lever with the butt +of his left hand. Aircushion-borne, he +trod down on the accelerator.</p> + +<p>Max Mainz was impressed. "You +know," he said. "I never been in one +of these swanky sports jobs before. +The kinda car you can afford on the +income of a Mid-Lower's stock +aren't—"</p> + +<p>"Knock it off," Joe said wearily. +"Carping we'll always have with us +evidently, but in spite of all the beefing +in every strata from Low-Lower +to Upper-Middle, I've yet to see any +signs of organized protest against +our present politico-economic system."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 164px; margin-bottom: 0;"> +<img src="images/003-1.png" width="164" height="195" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 541px; margin-top: 0;"> +<img src="images/003-2.png" width="541" height="305" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Hey," Max said. "Don't get me +wrong. What was good enough for +Dad is good enough for me. You +won't catch me talking against the +government."</p> + +<p>"Hm-m-m," Joe murmured. "And +all the other cliches taught to us to +preserve the status quo, our People's +Capitalism." They were reaching the +outskirts of town, crossing the Esopus. +The airport lay only a mile or so +beyond.</p> + +<p>It was obviously too deep for Max, +and since he didn't understand, he +assumed his superior didn't know +what he was talking about. He said, +tolerantly, "Well, what's wrong with +People's Capitalism? Everybody +owns the corporations. Damnsight +better than the Sovs have."</p> + +<p>Joe said sourly. "We've got one +optical illusion, they've got another, +Max. Over there they claim the +proletariat owns the means of production. +Great. But the Party members +are the ones who control it, and, +as a result they manage to do all +right for themselves. The Party hierarchy +over there are like our Uppers +over here."</p> + +<p>"Yeah." Max was being particularly +dense. "I've seen a lot about it +on Telly. You know, when there isn't +a good fracas on, you tune to one of +them educational shows, like—"</p> + +<p>Joe winced at the term <i>educational</i>, +but held his peace.</p> + +<p>"It's pretty rugged over there. But +in the West-world, the people own a +corporation's stock and they run it +and get the benefit."</p> + +<p>"At least it makes a beautiful story," +Joe said dryly. "Look, Max. +Suppose you have a corporation that +has two hundred thousand shares +out and they're distributed among +one hundred thousand and one persons. +One hundred thousand of these +own one share apiece, but the remaining +stockholder owns the other +hundred thousand."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you're getting +at," Max said.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser was tired of the discussion. +"Briefly," he said, "we have the +illusion that this is a People's Capitalism, +with all stock in the hands of +the People. Actually, as ever before, +the stock is in the hands of the Uppers, +all except a mere dribble. They +own the country and they run it for +their own benefit."</p> + +<p>Max shot a less than military +glance at him. "Hey, you're not one +of these Sovs yourself, are you?"</p> + +<p>They were coming into the parking +area near the Administration Building +of the airport. "No," Joe said so +softly that Max could hardly hear +his words. "Only a Mid-Middle on +the make."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Followed by Max, he strode quickly +to the Administration Building, +presented his credit identification at +the desk and requested a light aircraft +for a period of three hours. The +clerk, hardly looking up, began going +through motions, speaking into +telescreens.</p> + +<p>The clerk said finally, "You might +have a small wait, sir. Quite a few of +the officers involved in this fracas +have been renting out taxi-planes almost +as fast as they're available."</p> + +<p>That didn't surprise Joe Mauser. +Any competent officer made a point +of an aerial survey of the battle reservation +before going into a fracas. +Aircraft, of course, couldn't be used +<i>during</i> the fray, since they postdated +the turn of the century, and +hence were relegated to the cemetery +of military devices along with such +items as nuclear weapons, tanks, and +even gasoline-propelled vehicles of +size to be useful.</p> + +<p>Use an aircraft in a fracas, or even +<i>build</i> an aircraft for military usage +and you'd have a howl go up from +the military attaches from the Sov-world +that would be heard all the +way to Budapest. Not a fracas went +by but there were scores, if not hundreds, +of military observers, keen-eyed +to check whether or not any +really modern tools of war were being +illegally utilized. Joe Mauser +sometimes wondered if the West-world +observers, over in the Sov-world, +were as hair fine in their living +up to the rules of the Universal Disarmament +Pact. Probably. But, for +that matter, they didn't have the +same system of fighting fracases over +there, as in the West.</p> + +<p>Joe took a chair while he waited +and thumbed through a fan magazine. +From time to time he found his +own face in such publications. He +was a third-rate celebrity, really. +Luck hadn't been with him so far as +the buffs were concerned. They +wanted spectacular victories, murderous +situations in which they could +lose themselves in vicarious sadistic +thrills. Joe had reached most of his +peaks while in retreat, or commanding +a holding action. His officers appreciated +him and so did the ultra-knowledgeable +fracas buffs—but he +was all but an unknown to the average +dim wit who spent most of his +life glued to the Telly set, watching +men butcher each other.</p> + +<p>On the various occasions when +matters had pickled and Joe had to +fight his way out against difficult +odds, using spectacular tactics in +desperation, he was almost always +off camera. Purely luck. On top of +skill, determination, experience and +courage, you had to have luck in the +Military Category to get anywhere.</p> + +<p>This time Joe was going to manufacture +his own.</p> + +<p>A voice said, "Ah, Captain Mauser."</p> + +<p>Joe looked up, then came to his +feet quickly. In automatic reflex, he +began to come to the salute but then +caught himself. He said stiffly, "My +compliments, Marshal Cogswell."</p> + +<p>The other was a smallish man, but +strikingly strong of face and strongly +built. His voice was clipped, clear +and had the air of command as +though born with it. He, like Joe, +wore mufti and now extended his +hand to be shaken.</p> + +<p>"I hear you've signed up with +Baron Haer, captain. I was rather +expecting you to come in with me. +Had a place for a good aide de +camp. Liked your work in that last +fracas we went through together."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Joe said. Stonewall +Cogswell was as good a tactician +as freelanced and he was more +than that. He was a judge of men +and a stickler for detail. And right +now, if Joe Mauser knew Marshal +Stonewall Cogswell as well as he +thought, Cogswell was smelling a +rat. There was no reason why old +pro Joe Mauser should sign up with +a sure loser like Vacuum Tube +when he could have earned more +shares taking a commission with +Hovercraft.</p> + +<p>He was looking at Joe brightly, +the question in his eyes. Three or +four of his staff were behind a few +paces, looking polite, but Cogswell +didn't bring them into the conversation. +Joe knew most by sight. Good +men all. Old pros all. He felt another +twinge of doubt.</p> + +<p>Joe had to cover. He said, "I was +offered a particularly good contract, +sir. Too good to resist."</p> + +<p>The other nodded, as though inwardly +coming to a satisfactory conclusion. +"Baron Haer's connections, +eh? He's probably offered to back +you for a bounce in caste. Is that it, +Joe?"</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser flushed. Stonewall +Cogswell knew what he was talking +about. He'd been born into Middle +status himself and had become an +Upper the hard way. His path wasn't +as long as Joe's was going to be, but +long enough and he knew how rocky +the climb was. How very rocky.</p> + +<p>Joe said, stiffly, "I'm afraid I'm in +no position to discuss my commander's +military contracts, marshal. +We're in mufti, but after all—"</p> + +<p>Cogswell's lean face registered one +of his infrequent grimaces of humor. +"I understand, Joe. Well, good +luck and I hope things don't pickle +for you in the coming fracas. Possibly +we'll find ourselves aligned together +again at some future time."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Joe said, once +more having to catch himself to prevent +an automatic salute.</p> + +<p>Cogswell and his staff went off, +leaving Joe looking after them. Even +the marshal's staff members were top +men, any of whom could have conducted +a divisional magnitude fracas. +Joe felt the coldness in his stomach +again. Although it must have +looked like a cinch, the enemy wasn't +taking any chances whatsoever. +Cogswell and his officers were undoubtedly +here at the airport for the +same reason as Joe. They wanted a +thorough aerial reconnaissance of the +battlefield-to-be, before the issue was +joined.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Max was standing at his elbow. +"Who was that, sir? Looks like a real +tough one."</p> + +<p>"He is a real tough one," Joe said +sourly. "That's Stonewall Cogswell, +the best field commander in North +America."</p> + +<p>Max pursed his lips. "I never seen +him out of uniform before. Lots of +times on Telly, but never out of uniform. +I thought he was taller than +that."</p> + +<p>"He fights with his brains," Joe +said, still looking after the craggy +field marshal. "He doesn't have to be +any taller."</p> + +<p>Max scowled. "Where'd he ever +get that nickname, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Stonewall?" Joe was turning to +resume his chair and magazine. "He's +supposed to be a student of a top +general back in the American Civil +War. Uses some of the original Stonewall's +tactics."</p> + +<p>Max was out of his depth. "American +Civil War? Was that much of a +fracas, captain? It musta been before +my time."</p> + +<p>"It was quite a fracas," Joe said +dryly. "Lot of good lads died. A +hundred years after it was fought, +the <i>reasons</i> it was fought seemed +about as valid as those we fight fracases +for today. Personally I—"</p> + +<p>He had to cut it short. They were +calling him on the address system. +His aircraft was ready. Joe made his +way to the hangars, followed by +Max Mainz. He was going to pilot the +airplane himself and old Stonewall +Cogswell would have been surprised +at what Joe Mauser was looking for.</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>V</h2> + +<p class="cap">By the time they had returned to +quarters, there was a message waiting +for Captain Mauser. He was to +report to the officer commanding reconnaissance.</p> + +<p>Joe redressed in the Haer kilts and +proceeded to headquarters.</p> + +<p>The officer commanding reconnaissance +turned out to be none other +than Balt Haer, natty as ever, and, +as ever, arrogantly tapping his swagger +stick against his leg.</p> + +<p>"Zen! Captain," he complained. +"Where have you been? Off on a +trank kick? We've got to get organized."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser snapped him a salute. +"No, sir. I rented an aircraft to scout +out the terrain over which we'll be +fighting."</p> + +<p>"Indeed. And what were your impressions, +captain?" There was an +overtone which suggested that it +made little difference what impressions +a captain of cavalry might have +gained.</p> + +<p>Joe shrugged. "Largely mountains, +hills, woods. Good reconnaissance +is going to make the difference +in this one. And in the fracas itself +cavalry is going to be more important +than either artillery or infantry. +A Nathan Forrest fracas, sir. A matter +of getting there fustest with the mostest."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer said amusedly. "Thanks +for your opinion, captain. Fortunately, +our staff has already come largely +to the same conclusions. Undoubtedly, +they'll be glad to hear your +wide experience bears them out."</p> + +<p>Joe said evenly, "It's a rather obvious +conclusion, of course." He took +this as it came, having been through +it before. The dilettante amateur's +dislike of the old pro. The amateur in +command who knew full well he was +less capable than many of those below +him in rank.</p> + +<p>"Of course, captain," Balt Haer +flicked his swagger stick against his +leg. "But to the point. Your squadron +is to be deployed as scouts under my +overall command. You've had cavalry +experience, I assume."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. In various fracases over +the past fifteen years."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Now then, to get to +the reason I have summoned you. +Yesterday in my father's office you +intimated that you had some grandiose +scheme which would bring victory +to the Haer colors. But then, on +some thin excuse, refused to divulge +just what the scheme might be."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser looked at him unblinkingly.</p> + +<p>Balt Haer said: "Now I'd like to +have your opinion on just how Vacuum +Tube Transport can extract itself +from what would seem a poor +position at best."</p> + +<p>In all there were four others in the +office, two women clerks fluttering +away at typers, and two of Balt +Haer's junior officers. They seemed +only mildly interested in the conversation +between Balt and Joe.</p> + +<p>Joe wet his lips carefully. The +Haer scion was his commanding officer. +He said, "Sir, what I had in +mind is a new gimmick. At this stage, +if I told anybody and it leaked, it'd +never be effective, not even this first +time."</p> + +<p>Haer observed him coldly. "And +you think me incapable of keeping +your secret, ah, <i>gimmick</i>, I believe is +the idiomatic term you used."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser's eyes shifted around +the room, taking in the other four, +who were now looking at him.</p> + +<p>Bait Haer rapped, "These members +of my staff are all trusted Haer +employees, Captain Mauser. They +are not fly-by-night freelancers hired +for a week or two."</p> + +<p>Joe said, "Yes, sir. But it's been my +experience that one person can hold +a secret. It's twice as hard for two, +and from there on it's a decreasing +probability in a geometric ratio."</p> + +<p>The younger Haer's stick rapped +the side of his leg, impatiently. "Suppose +I inform you that this is a command, +captain? I have little confidence +in a supposed gimmick that +will rescue our forces from disaster +and I rather dislike the idea of a captain +of one of my squadrons dashing +about with such a bee in his bonnet +when he should be obeying my commands."</p> + +<p>Joe kept his voice respectful. +"Then, sir, I'd request that we take +the matter to the Commander in +Chief, your father."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>Joe said, "Sir, I've been working +on this a long time. I can't afford to +risk throwing the idea away."</p> + +<p>Bait Haer glared at him. "Very +well, captain. I'll call your bluff, +come along." He turned on his heel +and headed from the room.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser shrugged in resignation +and followed him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">The old Baron wasn't much happier +about Joe Mauser's secrets than +was his son. It had only been the day +before that he had taken Joe on, but +already he had seemed to have aged +in appearance. Evidently, each hour +that went by made it increasingly +clear just how perilous a position he +had assumed. Vacuum Tube Transport +had elbowed, buffaloed, bluffed +and edged itself up to the outskirts +of the really big time. The Baron's +ability, his aggressiveness, his flair, +his political pull, had all helped, but +now the chips were down. He was +up against one of the biggies, and +this particular biggy was tired of ambitious +little Vacuum Tube Transport.</p> + +<p>He listened to his son's words, listened +to Joe's defense.</p> + +<p>He said, looking at Joe, "If I understand +this, you have some scheme +which you think will bring victory in +spite of what seems a disastrous situation."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>The two Haers looked at him, one +impatiently, the other in weariness.</p> + +<p>Joe said, "I'm gambling everything +on this, sir. I'm no Rank Private in +his first fracas. I deserve to be given +some leeway."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer snorted. "Gambling everything! +What in Zen would <i>you</i> +have to gamble, captain? The whole +Haer family fortunes are tied up. +Hovercraft is out for blood. They +won't be satisfied with a token victory +and a negotiated compromise. They'll +devastate us. Thousands of mercenaries +killed, with all that means in +indemnities; millions upon million in +expensive military equipment, most +of which we've had to hire and will +have to recompensate for. Can you +imagine the value of our stock after +Stonewall Cogswell has finished +with us? Why, every two by four +trucking outfit in North America will +be challenging us, and we won't have +the forces to meet a minor skirmish."</p> + +<p>Joe reached into an inner pocket +and laid a sheaf of documents on the +desk of Baron Malcolm Haer. The +Baron scowled down at them.</p> + +<p>Joe said simply, "I've been accumulating +stock since before I was +eighteen and I've taken good care of +my portfolio in spite of taxes and the +various other pitfalls which make the +accumulation of capital practically +impossible. Yesterday, I sold all of +my portfolio I was legally allowed to +sell and converted to Vacuum Tube +Transport." He added, dryly, "Getting +it at an excellent rate, by the +way."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer mulled through the papers, +unbelievingly. "Zen!" he ejaculated. +"The fool really did it. He's +sunk a small fortune into our stock."</p> + +<p>Baron Haer growled at his son, +"You seem considerably more convinced +of our defeat than the captain, +here. Perhaps I should reverse +your positions of command."</p> + +<p>His son grunted, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>Old Malcolm Haer's eyes came +back to Joe. "Admittedly, I thought +you on the romantic side yesterday, +with your hints of some scheme +which would lead us out of the wilderness, +so to speak. Now I wonder +if you might not really have something. +Very well, I respect your +claimed need for secrecy. Espionage +is not exactly an antiquated military +field."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir."</p> + +<p>But the Baron was still staring at +him. "However, there's more to it +than that. Why not take this great +scheme to Marshal Cogswell? And +yesterday you mentioned that the +Telly sets of the nation would be +tuned in on this fracas, and obviously +you are correct. The question becomes, +what of it?"</p> + +<p>The fat was in the fire now. Joe +Mauser avoided the haughty stare of +young Balt Haer and addressed himself +to the older man. "You have political +pull, sir. Oh, I know you don't +make and break presidents. You +couldn't even pull enough wires to +keep Hovercraft from making this a +divisional magnitude fracas—but you +have pull enough for my needs."</p> + +<p>Baron Haer leaned back in his +chair, his barrel-like body causing +that article of furniture to creak. He +crossed his hands over his stomach. +"And what are your needs, Captain +Mauser?"</p> + +<p>Joe said evenly, "If I can bring this +off, I'll be a fracas buff celebrity. I +don't have any illusions about the +fickleness of the Telly fans, but for a +day or two I'll be on top. If at the +same time I had your all out support, +pulling what strings you could +reach—"</p> + +<p>"Why then, you'd be promoted to +Upper, wouldn't you, captain?" Balt +Haer finished for him, amusement in +his voice.</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm gambling on," +Joe said evenly.</p> + +<p>The younger Haer grinned at his +father superciliously. "So our captain +says he will defeat Stonewall Cogswell +in return for you sponsoring his +becoming a member of the nation's +elite."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">"Good Heavens, is the supposed +cream of the nation now selected on +no higher a level than this?" There +was sarcasm in the words.</p> + +<p>The three men turned. It was the +girl Joe had bumped into the day before. +The Haers didn't seem surprised +at her entrance.</p> + +<p>"Nadine," the older man growled. +"Captain Joseph Mauser who has +been given a commission in our +forces."</p> + +<p>Joe went through the routine of a +Middle of officer's rank being introduced +to a lady of Upper caste. She +smiled at him, somewhat mockingly, +and failed to make standard response.</p> + +<p>Nadine Haer said, "I repeat, what +is this service the captain can render +the house of Haer so important that +pressure should be brought to raise +him to Upper caste? It would seem +unlikely that he is a noted scientist, +an outstanding artist, a great teacher—"</p> + +<p>Joe said, uncomfortably, "They +say the military is a science, too."</p> + +<p>Her expression was almost as +haughty as that of her brother. "Do +they? I have never thought so."</p> + +<p>"Really, Nadine," her father grumbled. +"This is hardly your affair."</p> + +<p>"No? In a few days I shall be repairing +the damage you have allowed, +indeed sponsored, to be committed +upon the bodies of possibly thousands +of now healthy human beings."</p> + +<p>Balt said nastily, "Nobody asked +you to join the medical staff, Nadine. +You could have stayed in your laboratory, +figuring out new methods of +preventing the human race from replenishing +itself."</p> + +<p>The girl was obviously not the type +to redden, but her anger was manifest. +She spun on her brother. "If +the race continues its present maniac +course, possibly more effective methods +of birth control <i>are</i> the most important +development we could make. +Even to the ultimate discovery of preventing +all future conception."</p> + +<p>Joe caught himself in mid-chuckle.</p> + +<p>But not in time. She spun on him +in his turn. "Look at yourself in that +silly skirt. A professional soldier! A +killer! In my opinion the most useless +occupation ever devised by man. +Parasite on the best and useful members +of society. Destroyer by trade!"</p> + +<p>Joe began to open his mouth, but +she overrode him. "Yes, yes. I know. +I've read all the nonsense that has +accumulated down through the ages +about the need for, the glory of, the +sacrifice of the professional soldier. +How they defend their country. How +they give all for the common good. +Zen! What nonsense."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer was smirking sourly at +her. "The theory today is, Nadine, +old thing, that professionals such as +the captain are gathering experience +in case a serious fracas with the Sovs +ever develops. Meanwhile his training +is kept at a fine edge fighting in +our inter-corporation, inter-union, or +union-corporation fracases that develop +in our private enterprise society."</p> + +<p>She laughed her scorn. "And what +a theory! Limited to the weapons +which prevailed before 1900. If there +was ever real conflict between the +Sov-world and our own, does anyone +really believe either would stick +to such arms? Why, aircraft, armored +vehicles, yes, and nuclear weapons +and rockets, would be in overnight +use."</p> + +<p>Joe was fascinated by her furious +attack. He said, "Then, what would +you say was the purpose of the fracases, +Miss—"</p> + +<p>"Circuses," she snorted. "The old +Roman games, all over again, and a +hundred times worse. Blood and guts +sadism. The quest of a frustrated +person for satisfaction in another's +pain. Our Lowers of today are as +useless and frustrated as the Roman +proletariat and potentially they're +just as dangerous as the mob that +once dominated Rome. Automation, +the second industrial revolution, has +eliminated for all practical purposes +the need for their labor. So we give +them bread and circuses. And every +year that goes by the circuses must +be increasingly sadistic, death on an +increasing scale, or they aren't satisfied. +Once it was enough to have fictional +mayhem, cowboys and Indians, +gangsters, or G.I.s versus the +Nazis, Japs or Commies, but that's +passed. Now we need <i>real</i> blood and +guts."</p> + +<p>Baron Haer snapped finally, "All +right, Nadine. We've heard this lecture +before. I doubt if the captain is +interested, particularly since you +don't seem to be able to get beyond +the protesting stage and have yet to +come up with an answer."</p> + +<p>"I have an answer!"</p> + +<p>"Ah?" Balt Haer raised his eyebrows, +mockingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes! Overthrow this silly status +society. Resume the road to progress. +Put our people to useful endeavor, +instead of sitting in front of +their Telly sets, taking trank pills to +put them in a happy daze and +watching sadistic fracases to keep +them in thrills, and their minds from +their condition."</p> + +<p>Joe had figured on keeping out of +the controversy with this firebrand, +but now, really interested, he said, +"Progress to where?"</p> + +<p>She must have caught in his tone +that he wasn't needling. She frowned +at him. "I don't know man's goal, if +there is one. I'm not even sure it's +important. It's the road that counts. +The endeavor. The dream. The effort +expended to make a world a better +place than it was at the time of +your birth."</p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/004.png" width="167" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Balt Haer said mockingly, "That's +the trouble with you, Sis. Here we've +reached Utopia and you don't admit +it."</p> + +<p>"Utopia!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Take a poll. You'll find +nineteen people out of twenty happy +with things just the way they are. +They have full tummies and security, +lots of leisure and trank pills to make +matters seem even rosier than they +are—and they're rather rosy already."</p> + +<p>"Then what's the necessity of this +endless succession of bloody fracases, +covered to the most minute bloody +detail on the Telly?"</p> + +<p>Baron Haer cut things short. +"We've hashed and rehashed this +before, Nadine and now we're too +busy to debate further." He turned +to Joe Mauser. "Very well, captain, +you have my pledge. I wish I felt as +optimistic as you seem to be about +your prospects. That will be all for +now, captain."</p> + +<p>Joe saluted and executed an about +face.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">In the outer offices, when he had +closed the door behind him, he +rolled his eyes upward in mute +thanks to whatever powers might be. +He had somehow gained the enmity +of Balt, his immediate superior, but +he'd also gained the support of Baron +Haer himself, which counted considerably +more.</p> + +<p>He considered for a moment, Nadine +Haer's words. She was obviously +a malcontent, but, on the other hand, +her opinions of his chosen profession +weren't too different than his own. +However, given this victory, this upgrading +in caste, and Joe Mauser +would be in a position to retire.</p> + +<p>The door opened and shut behind +him and he half turned.</p> + +<p>Nadine Haer, evidently still caught +up in the hot words between herself +and her relatives, glared at him. All +of which stressed the beauty he had +noticed the day before. She was an +almost unbelievably pretty girl, particularly +when flushed with anger.</p> + +<p>It occurred to him with a blowlike +suddenness that, if his caste was +raised to Upper, he would be in a position +to woo such as Nadine Haer.</p> + +<p>He looked into her furious face +and said, "I was intrigued, Miss Haer, +with what you had to say, and I'd +like to discuss some of your points. I +wonder if I could have the pleasure of +your company at some nearby refreshment—"</p> + +<p>"My, how formal an invitation, +captain. I suppose you had in mind +sitting and flipping back a few trank +pills."</p> + +<p>Joe looked at her. "I don't believe +I've had a trank in the past twenty +years, Miss Haer. Even as a boy, I +didn't particularly take to having my +senses dulled with drug-induced +pleasure."</p> + +<p>Some of her fury was abating, +but she was still critical of the professional +mercenary. Her eyes went +up and down his uniform in scorn. +"You seem to make pretenses of being +cultivated, captain. Then why +your chosen profession?"</p> + +<p>He'd had the answer to that for +long years. He said now, simply, "I +told you I was born a Lower. Given +that, little counts until I fight my +way out of it. Had I been born in a +feudalist society, I would have attempted +to batter myself into the +nobility. Under classical capitalism, +I would have done my utmost to accumulate +a fortune, enough to reach +an effective position in society. Now, +under People's Capitalism ..."</p> + +<p>She snorted, "Industrial Feudalism +would be the better term."</p> + +<p>"... I realize I can't even start +to fulfill myself until I am a member +of the Upper caste."</p> + +<p>Her eyes had narrowed, and the +anger was largely gone. "But you +chose the military field in which to +better yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Government propaganda to the +contrary, it is practically impossible +to raise yourself in other fields. I didn't +build this world, possibly I don't +even approve of it, but since I'm in +it I have no recourse but to follow +its rules."</p> + +<p>Her eyebrows arched. "Why not +try to change the rules?"</p> + +<p>Joe blinked at her.</p> + +<p>Nadine Haer said, "Let's look up +that refreshment you were talking +about. In fact, there's a small coffee +bar around the corner where it'd be +possible for one of Baron Haer's +brood to have a cup with one of her +father's officers of Middle caste."</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>VI</h2> + +<p class="cap">The following morning, hands on +the pillow beneath his head, Joe +Mauser stared up at the ceiling of +his room and rehashed his session +with Nadine Haer. It hadn't taken +him five minutes to come to the conclusion +that he was in love with the +girl, but it had taken him the rest of +the evening to keep himself under +rein and not let the fact get through +to her.</p> + +<p>He wanted to talk about the way +her mouth tucked in at the corners, +but she was hot on the evolution of +society. He would have liked to have +kissed that impossibly perfectly +shaped ear of hers, but she was all +for exploring the reasons why man +had reached his present impasse. Joe +was for holding hands, and staring +into each other's eyes, she was for +delving into the differences between +the West-world and the Sov-world +and the possibility of resolving +them.</p> + +<p>Of course, to keep her company +at all it had been necessary to suppress +his own desires and to go along. +It obviously had never occurred to +her that a Middle might have romantic +ideas involving Nadine Haer. +It had simply not occurred to her, no +matter the radical teachings she advocated.</p> + +<p>Most of their world was predictable +from what had gone before. In +spite of popular fable to the contrary, +the division between classes +had become increasingly clear. +Among other things, tax systems +were such that it became all but impossible +for a citizen born poor to +accumulate a fortune. Through ability +he might rise to the point of earning +fabulous sums—and wind up in +debt to the tax collector. A great inventor, +a great artist, had little chance +of breaking into the domain of what +finally became the small percentage +of the population now known as +Uppers. Then, too, the rising cost of +a really good education became such +that few other than those born into +the Middle or Upper castes could afford +the best of schools. Castes tended +to perpetuate themselves.</p> + +<p>Politically, the nation had fallen +increasingly deeper into the two-party +system, both parties of which +were tightly controlled by the same +group of Uppers. Elections had become +a farce, a great national holiday +in which stereotyped patriotic +speeches, pretenses of unity between +all castes, picnics, beer busts and +trank binges predominated for one +day.</p> + +<p>Economically, too, the augurs had +been there. Production of the basics +had become so profuse that poverty +in the old sense of the word had become +nonsensical. There was an +abundance of the necessities of life +for all. Social security, socialized +medicine, unending unemployment +insurance, old age pensions, pensions +for veterans, for widows and children, +for the unfit, pensions and doles +for this, that and the other, had +doubled, and doubled again, until +everyone had security for life. The +Uppers, true enough, had opulence +far beyond that known by the Middles +and lived like Gods compared +to the Lowers. But all had security. +They had agreed, thus far, Joe +and Nadine. But then had come debate.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">"Then why," Joe had asked her, +"haven't we achieved what your +brother called it? Why isn't this +Utopia? Isn't it what man has been +yearning for, down through the +ages? Where did the wheel come +off? What happened to the dream?"</p> + +<p>Nadine had frowned at him—beautifully, +he thought. "It's not the +first time man has found abundance +in a society, though never to this +degree. The Incas had it, for instance."</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about them," +Joe admitted. "An early form of +communism with a sort of military-priesthood +at the top."</p> + +<p>She had nodded, her face serious, +as always. "And for themselves, the +Romans more or less had it—at the +expense of the nations they conquered, +of course."</p> + +<p>"And—" Joe prodded.</p> + +<p>"And in these examples the same +thing developed. Society ossified. +Joe," she said, using his first name +for the first time, and in a manner +that set off a new count down in his +blood, "a ruling caste and a socio-economic +system perpetuates itself, +just so long as it ever can. No matter +what damage it may do to society as +a whole, it perpetuates itself even to +the point of complete destruction of +everything.</p> + +<p>"Remember Hitler? Adolf the +Aryan and his Thousand Year +Reich? When it became obvious he +had failed, and the only thing that +could result from continued resistance +would be destruction of Germany's +cities and millions of her +people, did he and his clique resign +or surrender? Certainly not. They attempted +to bring down the whole +German structure in a Götterdammerung."</p> + +<p>Nadine Haer was deep into her +theme, her eyes flashing her conviction. +"A socio-economic system reacts +like a living organism. It attempts +to live on, indefinitely, agonizingly, +no matter how antiquated it +might have become. The Roman +politico-economic system continued +for centuries after it should have +been replaced. Such reformers as the +Gracchus brothers were assassinated +or thrust aside so that the entrenched +elements could perpetuate themselves, +and when Rome finally fell, +darkness descended for a thousand +years on Western progress."</p> + +<p>Joe had never gone this far in his +thoughts. He said now, somewhat +uncomfortably, "Well, what would +replace what we have now? If you +took power from you Uppers, who +could direct the country? The Lowers? +That's not even funny. Take +away their fracases and their trank +pills and they'd go berserk. They +don't <i>want</i> anything else."</p> + +<p>Her mouth worked. "Admittedly, +we've already allowed things to deteriorate +much too far. We should +have done something long ago. I'm +not sure I know the answer. All I +know is that in order to maintain the +status quo, we're not utilizing the +efforts of more than a fraction of +our people. Nine out of ten of us +spend our lives sitting before the +Telly, sucking tranks. Meanwhile, +the motivation for continued progress +seems to have withered away. +Our Upper political circles are afraid +some seemingly minor change might +avalanche, so more and more we +lean upon the old way of doing +things."</p> + +<p>Joe had put up mild argument. +"I've heard the case made that the +Lowers are fools and the reason our +present socio-economic system makes +it so difficult to rise from Lower to +Upper is that you cannot make a +fool understand he is one. You can +only make him angry. If some, who +are not fools, are allowed to advance +from Lower to Upper, the vast mass +who are fools will be angry because +they are not allowed to. That's why +the Military Category is made a +channel of advance. To take that +road, a man gives up his security and +he'll die if he's a fool."</p> + +<p>Nadine had been scornful. "That +reminds me of the old contention by +racial segregationalists that the Negroes +<i>smelled</i> bad. First they put +them in a position where they had +insufficient bathing facilities, their +diet inadequate, and their teeth uncared +for, and then protested that +they couldn't be associated with because +of their odor. Today, we are +born within our castes. If an Upper +is inadequate, he nevertheless remains +an Upper. An accident of birth +makes him an aristocrat; environment, +family, training, education, +friends, traditions and laws maintain +him in that position. But a Lower +who potentially has the greatest of +value to society, is born handicapped +and he's hard put not to wind up before +a Telly, in a mental daze from +trank. Sure he's a fool, he's never +been <i>allowed</i> to develop himself."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Yes, Joe reflected now, it had +been quite an evening. In a life of +more than thirty years devoted to +rebellion, he had never met anyone +so outspoken as Nadine Haer, nor +one who had thought it through as +far as she had.</p> + +<p>He grunted. His own revolt was +against the level at which he had +found himself in society, not the +structure of society itself. His whole +<i>raison d'être</i> was to lift himself to +Upper status. It came as a shock to +him to find a person he admired who +had been born into Upper caste, desirous +of tearing the whole system +down.</p> + +<p>His thoughts were interrupted by +the door opening and the face of Max +Mainz grinning in at him. Joe was +mildly surprised at his orderly not +knocking before opening the door. +Max evidently had a lot to learn.</p> + +<p>The little man blurted, "Come on, +Joe. Let's go out on the town!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Joe?</i>" Joe Mauser raised himself +to one elbow and stared at the other. +"Leaving aside the merits of your +suggestion for the moment, do you +think you should address an officer +by his first name?"</p> + +<p>Max Mainz came fully into the +bedroom, his grin still wider. "You +forgot! It's election day!"</p> + +<p>"Oh." Joe Mauser relaxed into his +pillow. "So it is. No duty for today, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"No duty for anybody," Max +crowed. "What'd you say we go into +town and have a few drinks in one +of the Upper bars?"</p> + +<p>Joe grunted, but began to arise. +"What'll that accomplish? On election +day, most of the Uppers get +done up in their oldest clothes and +go slumming down in the Lower +quarters."</p> + +<p>Max wasn't to be put off so easily. +"Well, wherever we go, let's get going. +Zen! I'll bet this town is full of +fracas buffs from as far as Philly. +And on election day, to boot. Wouldn't +it be something if I found me a +real fracas fan, some Upper-Upper +dame?"</p> + +<p>Joe laughed at him, even as he +headed for the bathroom. As a matter +of fact, he rather liked the idea +of going into town for the show. +"Max," he said over his shoulder, +"you're in for a big disappointment. +They're all the same. Upper, Lower, +or Middle."</p> + +<p>"Yeah?" Max grinned back at him. +"Well, I'd like the pleasure of finding +out if that's true by personal experience."</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>VII</h2> + +<p class="cap">In a far away past, Kingston had +once been the capital of the United +States. For a short time, when Washington's +men were in flight after the +debacle of their defeat in New York +City, the government of the United +Colonies had held session in this +Hudson River town. It had been its +one moment of historic glory, and +afterward Kingston had slipped back +into being a minor city on the edge +of the Catskills, approximately halfway +between New York and Albany.</p> + +<p>Of most recent years, it had become +one of the two recruiting centers +which bordered the Catskill +Military Reservation, which in turn +was one of the score or so population +cleared areas throughout the continent +where rival corporations or +unions could meet and settle their +differences in combat—given permission +of the Military Category Department +of the government. And +permission was becoming ever easier +to acquire.</p> + +<p>It had slowly evolved, the resorting +to trial by combat to settle disputes +between competing corporations, +disputes between corporations +and unions, disputes between unions +over jurisdiction. Slowly, but predictably. +Since the earliest days of +the first industrial revolution, conflict +between these elements had often +broken into violence, sometimes +on a scale comparable to minor warfare. +An early example was the union +organizing in Colorado when armed +elements of the Western Federation +of Miners shot it out with similarly +armed "detectives" hired by the mine +owners, and later with the troops of +an unsympathetic State government.</p> + +<p>By the middle of the Twentieth-Century, +unions had become one of +the biggest businesses in the country, +and by this time a considerable +amount of the industrial conflict had +shifted to fights between them for +jurisdiction over dues-paying members. +Battles on the waterfront, assassination +and counter-assassination +by gun-toting goon squads dominated +by gangsters, industrial sabotage, +frays between pickets and scabs—all +were common occurrences.</p> + +<p>But it was the coming of Telly +which increasingly brought such conflicts +literally before the public eye. +Zealous reporters made ever greater +effort to bring the actual mayhem before +the eyes of their viewers, and +never were their efforts more highly +rewarded.</p> + +<p>A society based upon private endeavor +is as jealous of a vacuum as +is Mother Nature. Give a desire that +can be filled profitably, and the +means can somehow be found to realize +it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>At one point in the nation's history, +the railroad lords had dominated +the economy, later it became +the petroleum princes of Texas and +elsewhere, but toward the end of the +Twentieth Century the communications +industries slowly gained prominence. +Nothing was more greatly in +demand than feeding the insatiable +maw of the Telly fan, nothing, ultimately, +became more profitable.</p> + +<p>And increasingly, the Telly buff +endorsed the more sadistic of the fictional +and nonfictional programs presented +him. Even in the earliest years +of the industry, producers had found +that murder and mayhem, war and +frontier gunfights, took precedence +over less gruesome subjects. Music +was drowned out by gunfire, the +dance replaced by the shuffle of cowboy +and rustler advancing down a +dusty street toward each other, their +fingertips brushing the grips of their +six-shooters, the comedian's banter +fell away before the chatter of the +gangster's tommy gun.</p> + +<p>And increasing realism was demanded. +The Telly reporter on the +scene of a police arrest, preferably a +murder, a rumble between rival +gangs of juvenile delinquents, a longshoreman's +fray in which scores of +workers were hospitalized. When attempts +were made to suppress such +broadcasts, the howl of freedom of +speech and the press went up, financed +by tycoons clever enough to +realize the value of the subjects they +covered so adequately.</p> + +<p>The vacuum was there, the desire, +the <i>need</i>. Bread the populace had. +Trank was available to all. But the +need was for the circus, the vicious, +sadistic circus, and bit by bit, over +the years and decades, the way was +found to circumvent the country's +laws and traditions to supply the +need.</p> + +<p>Aye, a way is always found. The +final Universal Disarmament Pact +which had totally banned all weapons +invented since the year 1900 and +provided for complete inspection, +had not ended the fear of war. And +thus there was excuse to give the +would-be soldier, the potential defender +of the country in some future +inter-nation conflict, practical experience.</p> + +<p>Slowly tolerance grew to allow +union and corporation to fight it out, +hiring the services of mercenaries. +Slowly rules grew up to govern such +fracases. Slowly a department of government +evolved. The Military Category +became as acceptable as the +next, and the mercenary a valued, +even idolized, member of society. +And the field became practically the +only one in which a status quo orientated +socio-economic system allowed +for advancement in caste.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser and Max Mainz +strolled the streets of Kingston in an +extreme of atmosphere seldom to be +enjoyed. Not only was the advent of +a divisional magnitude fracas only a +short period away, but the freedom +of an election day as well. The carnival, +the Mardi Gras, the fete, the +fiesta, of an election. Election Day, +when each aristocrat became only a +man, and each man an aristocrat, +free of all society's artificially conceived, +caste-perpetuating rituals and +taboos.</p> + +<p>Carnival! The day was young, but +already the streets were thick with +revelers, with dancers, with drunks. +A score of bands played, youngsters +in particular ran about attired in +costume, there were barbeques and +flowing beer kegs. On the outskirts +of town were roller coasters and ferris +wheels, fun houses and drive-it-yourself +miniature cars. Carnival!</p> + +<p>Max said happily, "You drink, +Joe? Or maybe you like trank, better." +Obviously, he loved to roll the +other's first name over his tongue.</p> + +<p>Joe wondered in amusement how +often the little man had found occasion +to call a Mid-Middle by his first +name. "No trank," he said. "Alcohol +for me. Mankind's old faithful."</p> + +<p>"Well," Max debated, "get high on +alcohol and bingo, a hangover in the +morning. But trank? You wake up +with a smile."</p> + +<p>"And a desire for more trank to +keep the mood going," Joe said wryly. +"Get smashed on alcohol and you +suffer for it eventually."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's one way of looking +at it," Max argued happily. "So let's +start off with a couple of quick ones +in this here Upper joint."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Joe looked the place over. He didn't +know Kingston overly well, but +by the appearance of the building +and by the entry, it was probably +the swankiest hotel in town. He +shrugged. So far as he was concerned, +he appreciated the greater +comfort and the better service of his +Middle caste bars, restaurants and +hotels over the ones he had patronized +when a Lower. However, his +wasn't an immediate desire to push +into the preserves of the Uppers; not +until he had won rightfully to their +status.</p> + +<p>But on this occasion the little fellow +wanted to drink at an Upper bar. +Very well, it was election day. "Let's +go," he said to Max.</p> + +<p>In the uniform of a Rank Captain +of the Military Category, there was +little to indicate caste level, and ordinarily +given the correct air of nonchalance, +Joe Mauser, in uniform, +would have been able to go anywhere, +without so much as a raised +eyebrow—until he had presented his +credit card, which indicated his caste. +But Max was another thing. He was +obviously a Lower, and probably a +Low-Lower at that.</p> + +<p>But space was made for them at +a bar packed with election day celebrants, +politicians involved in the +day's speeches and voting, higher +ranking officers of the Haer forces, +having a day off, and various Uppers +of both sexes in town for the excitement +of the fracas to come.</p> + +<p>"Beer," Joe said to the bartender.</p> + +<p>"Not me," Max crowed. "Champagne. +Only the best for Max Mainz. +Give me some of that champagne +liquor I always been hearing about."</p> + +<p>Joe had the bill credited to his +card, and they took their bottles and +glasses to a newly abandoned table. +The place was too packed to have +awaited the services of a waiter, +although poor Max probably would +have loved such attention. Lower, +and even Middle bars and restaurants +were universally automated, and +the waiter or waitress a thing of yesteryear.</p> + +<p>Max looked about the room in +awe. "This is living," he announced. +"I wonder what they'd say if I went +to the desk and ordered a room."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser wasn't as highly impressed +as his batman. In fact, he'd +often stayed in the larger cities, in +hostelries as sumptuous as this, +though only of Middle status. Kingston's +best was on the mediocre side. +He said, "They'd probably tell you +they were filled up."</p> + +<p>Max was indignant. "Because I'm +a Lower? It's <i>election</i> day."</p> + +<p>Joe said mildly, "Because they +probably are filled up. But for that +matter, they might brush you off. +It's not as though an Upper went to +a Middle or Lower hotel and asked +for accommodations. But what do +you want, justice?"</p> + +<p>Max dropped it. He looked down +into his glass. "Hey," he complained, +"what'd they give me? This +stuff tastes like weak hard cider."</p> + +<p>Joe laughed. "What did you think +it was going to taste like?"</p> + +<p>Max took another unhappy sip. +"I thought it was supposed to be the +best drink you could buy. You know, +really strong. It's just bubbly wine."</p> + +<p>A voice said, dryly, "Your companion +doesn't seem to be a connoisseur +of the French vintages, captain."</p> + +<p>Joe turned. Balt Haer and two +others occupied the table next to +them.</p> + +<p>Joe chuckled amiably and said, +"Truthfully, it was my own reaction, +the first time I drank sparkling wine, +sir."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," Haer said. "I can imagine." +He fluttered a hand. "Lieutenant +Colonel Paul Warren of Marshal +Cogswell's staff, and Colonel Lajos +Arpàd, of Budapest—Captain Joseph +Mauser."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser came to his feet and +clicked his heels, bowing from the +waist in approved military protocol. +The other two didn't bother to come +to their feet, but did condescend to +shake hands.</p> + +<p>The Sov officer said, disinterestedly, +"Ah yes, this is one of your fabulous +customs, isn't it? On an election +day, everyone is quite entitled to go +anywhere. Anywhere at all. And, +ah"—he made a sound somewhat +like a giggle—"associate with anyone +at all."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser resumed his seat then +looked at him. "That is correct. A +custom going back to the early history +of the country when all men +were considered equal in such matters +as law and civil rights. Gentlemen, +may I present Rank Private +Max Mainz, my orderly."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer, who had obviously already +had a few, looked at him dourly. +"You can carry these things to +the point of the ludicrous, captain. +For a man with your ambitions, I'm +surprised."</p> + +<p>The infantry officer the younger +Haer had introduced as Lieutenant +Colonel Warren, of Stonewall Cogswell's +staff, said idly, "Ambitions? +Does the captain have ambitions? +How in Zen can a Middle have ambitions, +Balt?" He stared at Joe +Mauser superciliously, but then +scowled. "Haven't I seen you somewhere +before?"</p> + +<p>Joe said evenly, "Yes, sir. Five +years ago we were both with the +marshal in a fracas on the Little Big +Horn reservation. Your company +was pinned down on a knoll by a +battery of field artillery. The Marshal +sent me to your relief. We sneaked +in, up an arroyo, and were able to +get most of you out."</p> + +<p>"I was wounded," the colonel said, +the superciliousness gone and a +strange element in his voice above +the alcohol there earlier.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser said nothing to that. +Max Mainz was stirring unhappily +now. These officers were talking +above his head, even as they ignored +him. He had a vague feeling that he +was being defended by Captain +Mauser, but he didn't know how, or +why.</p> + +<p>Balt Haer had been occupied in +shouting fresh drinks. Now he turned +back to the table. "Well, colonel, it's +all very secret, these ambitions of +Captain Mauser. I understand he's +been an aide de camp to Marshal +Cogswell in the past, but the marshal +will be distressed to learn that on this +occasion Captain Mauser has a secret +by which he expects to rout +your forces. Indeed, yes, the captain +is quite the strategist." Balt Haer +laughed abruptly. "And what good +will this do the captain? Why on my +father's word, if he succeeds, all efforts +will be made to make the captain +a caste equal of ours. Not just +on election day, mind you, but all +three hundred sixty-five days of the +year."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser was on his feet, his +face expressionless. He said, "Shall +we go, Max? Gentlemen, it's been a +pleasure. Colonel Arpàd, a privilege +to meet you. Colonel Warren, a +pleasure to renew acquaintance." +Joe Mauser turned and, trailed by +his orderly, left.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Lieutenant Colonel Warren, pale, +was on his feet too.</p> + +<p>Balt Haer was chuckling. "Sit +down, Paul. Sit down. Not important +enough to be angry about. The +man's a clod."</p> + +<p>Warren looked at him bleakly. +"I wasn't angry, Balt. The last time +I saw Captain Mauser I was slung +over his shoulder. He carried, tugged +and dragged me some two miles +through enemy fire."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer carried it off with a +shrug. "Well, that's his profession. +Category Military. A mercenary for +hire. I assume he received his pay."</p> + +<p>"He could have left me. Common +sense dictated that he leave me."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer was annoyed. "Well, +then we see what I've contended all +along. The ambitious captain doesn't +have common sense."</p> + +<p>Colonel Paul Warren shook his +head. "You're wrong there. Common +sense Joseph Mauser has. Considerable +ability, he has. He's one of the +best combat men in the field. But +I'd hate to serve under him."</p> + +<p>The Hungarian was interested. +"But why?"</p> + +<p>"Because he doesn't have luck, +and in the dill you need luck." Warren +grunted in sour memory. "Had +the Telly cameras been focused on +Joe Mauser, there at the Little Big +Horn, he would have been a month +long sensation to the Telly buffs, +with all that means." He grunted +again. "There wasn't a Telly team +within a mile."</p> + +<p>"The captain probably didn't realize +that," Balt Haer snorted. +"Otherwise his heroics would have +been modified."</p> + +<p>Warren flushed his displeasure and +sat down. He said, "Possibly we +should discuss the business before +us. If your father is in agreement, +the fracas can begin in three days." +He turned to the representative of +the Sov-world. "You have satisfied +yourselves that neither force is violating +the Disarmament Pact?"</p> + +<p>Lajos Arpàd nodded. "We +will wish to have observers on the +field, itself, of course. But preliminary +observation has been satisfactory." +He had been interested in the +play between these two and the lower +caste officer. He said now, "Pardon +me. As you know, this is my first +visit to the, uh <i>West</i>. I am fascinated. +If I understand what just transpired, +our Captain Mauser is a capable +junior officer ambitious to rise in +rank and status in your society." He +looked at Balt Haer. "Why are you +opposed to his so rising?"</p> + +<p>Young Haer was testy about the +whole matter. "Of what purpose is +an Upper caste if every Tom, Dick +and Harry enters it at will?"</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/005.png" width="495" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Warren looked at the door +through which Joe and Max had +exited from the cocktail lounge. He +opened his mouth to say something, +closed it again, and held his peace.</p> + +<p>The Hungarian said, looking from +one of them to the other, "In the +Sov-world we seek out such ambitious +persons and utilize their abilities."</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Colonel Warren +laughed abruptly. "So do we here +<i>theoretically</i>. We are <i>free</i>, whatever +that means. However," he added +sarcastically, "it does help to have +good schooling, good connections, +relatives in positions of prominence, +abundant shares of good stocks, that +sort of thing. And these one is born +with, in this free world of ours, +Colonel Arpàd."</p> + +<p>The Sov military observer clucked +his tongue. "An indication of a declining +society."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer turned on him. "And is it +any different in your world?" he said +sneeringly. "Is it merely coincidence +that the best positions in the Sov-world +are held by Party members, +and that it is all but impossible for +anyone not born of Party member +parents to become one? Are not the +best schools filled with the children of +Party members? Are not only Party +members allowed to keep servants? +And isn't it so that—"</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Colonel Warren said, +"Gentlemen, let us not start World +War Three at this spot, at this late +occasion."</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>VIII</h2> + +<p class="cap">Baron Malcolm Haer's field headquarters +were in the ruins of a farm +house in a town once known as +Bearsville. His forces, and those of +Marshal Stonewall Cogswell, were on +the march but as yet their main bodies +had not come in contact. Save for +skirmishes between cavalry units, +there had been no action. The ruined +farm house had been a victim of an +earlier fracas in this reservation +which had seen in its comparatively +brief time more combat than Belgium, +that cockpit of Europe.</p> + +<p>There was a sheen of oily moisture +on the Baron's bulletlike head and +his officers weren't particularly happy +about it. Malcolm Haer characteristically +went into a fracas with +confidence, an aggressive confidence +so strong that it often carried the +day. In battles past, it had become a +tradition that Haer's morale was +worth a thousand men; the energy he +expended was the despair of his doctors +who had been warning him for a +decade. But now, something was +missing.</p> + +<p>A forefinger traced over the military +chart before them. "So far as +we know, Marshal Cogswell has established +his command here in +Saugerties. Anybody have any suggestions +as to why?"</p> + +<p>A major grumbled, "It doesn't +make much sense, sir. You know the +marshal. It's probably a fake. If we +have any superiority at all, it's our +artillery."</p> + +<p>"And the old fox wouldn't want to +join the issue on the plains, down +near the river," a colonel added. +"It's his game to keep up into the +mountains with his cavalry and light +infantry. He's got Jack Alshuler's +cavalry. Most experienced veterans +in the field."</p> + +<p>"I know who he's got," Haer +growled in irritation. "Stop reminding +me. Where in the devil is Balt?"</p> + +<p>"Coming up, sir," Balt Haer said. +He had entered only moments ago, +a sheaf of signals in his hand. "Why +didn't they make that date 1910, instead +of 1900? With radio, we could +speed up communications—"</p> + +<p>His father interrupted testily. "Better +still, why not make it 1945? Then +we could speed up to the point where +we could polish ourselves off. What +have you got?"</p> + +<p>Balt Haer said, his face in sulk, +"Some of my lads based in West Hurley +report concentrations of Cogswell's +infantry and artillery near +Ashokan reservoir."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," somebody snapped. +"We'd have him."</p> + +<p>The younger Haer slapped his +swagger stick against his bare leg and +kilt. "Possibly it's a feint," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"How much were they able to observe?" +his father demanded.</p> + +<p>"Not much. They were driven off +by a superior squadron. The Hovercraft +forces are screening everything +they do with heavy cavalry units. I +told you we needed more—"</p> + +<p>"I don't need your advice at this +point," his father snapped. The older +Haer went back to the map, scowling +still. "I don't see what he expects to +do, working out of Saugerties."</p> + +<p>A voice behind them said, "Sir, may +I have your permission—"</p> + +<p>Half of the assembled officers +turned to look at the newcomer.</p> + +<p>Balt Haer snapped, "Captain Mauser. +Why aren't you with your lads?"</p> + +<p>"Turned them over to my second in +command, sir," Joe Mauser said. He +was standing to attention, looking at +Baron Haer.</p> + +<p>The Baron glowered at him. "What +is the meaning of this cavalier intrusion, +captain? Certainly, you must +have your orders. Are you under the +illusion that you are part of my staff?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," Joe Mauser clipped. "I +came to report that I am ready to put +into execution—"</p> + +<p>"The great plan!" Balt Haer ejaculated. +He laughed brittlely. "The second +day of the fracas, and nobody really +knows where old Cogswell is, or +what he plans to do. And here comes +the captain with his secret plan."</p> + +<p>Joe looked at him. He said, evenly, +"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>The Baron's face had gone dark, as +much in anger at his son, as with the +upstart cavalry captain. He began to +growl ominously, "Captain Mauser, +rejoin your command and obey your +orders."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser's facial expression indicated +that he had expected this. He +kept his voice level however, even under +the chuckling scorn of his immediate +superior, Balt Haer.</p> + +<p>He said, "Sir, I will be able to tell +you where Marshal Cogswell is, and +every troop at his command."</p> + +<p>For a moment there was silence, +all but a stunned silence. Then the +major who had suggested the Saugerties +field command headquarters were +a fake, blurted a curt laugh.</p> + +<p>"This is no time for levity, captain," +Balt Haer clipped. "Get to your +command."</p> + +<p>A colonel said, "Just a moment, sir. +I've fought with Joe Mauser before. +He's a good man."</p> + +<p>"Not that good," someone else +huffed. "Does he claim to be clairvoyant?"</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser said flatly. "Have a +semaphore man posted here this afternoon. +I'll be back at that time." He +spun on his heel and left them.</p> + +<p>Balt Haer rushed to the door after +him, shouting, "Captain! That's an order! +Return—"</p> + +<p>But the other was obviously gone. +Enraged, the younger Haer began to +shrill commands to a noncom in the +way of organizing a pursuit.</p> + +<p>His father called wearily, "That's +enough, Balt. Mauser has evidently +taken leave of his senses. We made +the initial mistake of encouraging this +idea he had, or thought he had."</p> + +<p>"<i>We?</i>" his son snapped in return. +"I had nothing to do with it."</p> + +<p>"All right, all right. Let's tighten +up, here. Now, what other information +have your scouts come up with?"</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>IX</h2> + +<p class="cap">At the Kingston airport, Joe Mauser +rejoined Max Mainz, his face +drawn now.</p> + +<p>"Everything go all right?" the little +man said anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Joe said. "I still +couldn't tell them the story. Old +Cogswell is as quick as a coyote. We +pull this little caper today, and he'll be +ready to meet it tomorrow."</p> + +<p>He looked at the two-place sailplane +which sat on the tarmac. "Everything +all set?"</p> + +<p>"Far as I know," Max said. He +looked at the motorless aircraft. "You +sure you been checked out on these +things, captain?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Joe said. "I bought this particular +soaring glider more than a +year ago, and I've put almost a thousand +hours in it. Now, where's the pilot +of that light plane?"</p> + +<p>A single-engined sports plane was +attached to the glider by a fifty-foot +nylon rope. Even as Joe spoke, a +youngster poked his head from the +plane's window and grinned back at +them. "Ready?" he yelled.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Max," Joe said. "Let's +pull the canopy off this thing. We +don't want it in the way while you're +semaphoring."</p> + +<p>A figure was approaching them +from the Administration Building. A +uniformed man, and somehow familiar.</p> + +<p>"A moment, Captain Mauser!"</p> + +<p>Joe placed him now. The Sov-world +representative he'd met at Balt +Haer's table in the Upper bar a couple +of days ago. What was his name? +Colonel Arpàd. Lajos Arpàd.</p> + +<p>The Hungarian approached and +looked at the sailplane in interest. +"As a representative of my government, +a military attache checking +upon possible violations of the Universal +Disarmament Pact, may I request +what you are about to do, captain?"</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser looked at him emptily. +"How did you know I was here and +what I was doing?"</p> + +<p>The Sov colonel smiled gently. "It +was by suggestion of Marshal Cogswell. +He is a great man for detail. It +disturbed him that an ... what did +he call it? ... an <i>old pro</i> like yourself +should join with Vacuum Tube +Transport, rather than Continental +Hovercraft. He didn't think it made +sense and suggested that possibly you +had in mind some scheme that would +utilize weapons of a post 1900 period +in your efforts to bring success to +Baron Haer's forces. So I have investigated, +Captain Mauser."</p> + +<p>"And the marshal knows about this +sail plane?" Joe Mauser's face was +blank.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say that. So far as I know, +he doesn't."</p> + +<p>"Then, Colonel Arpàd, with your +permission, I'll be taking off."</p> + +<p>The Hungarian said, "With what +end in mind, captain?"</p> + +<p>"Using this glider as a reconnaissance +aircraft."</p> + +<p>"Captain, I warn you! Aircraft were +not in use in warfare until—"</p> + +<p>But Joe Mauser cut him off, equally +briskly. "Aircraft were first used in +combat by Pancho Villa's forces a few +years previous to World War I. They +were also used in the Balkan Wars of +about the same period. But those +were powered craft. This is a glider, +invented and in use before the year +1900 and hence open to utilization."</p> + +<p>The Hungarian clipped, "But the +Wright Brothers didn't fly even gliders +until—"</p> + +<p>Joe looked him full in the face. +"But you of the Sov-world do not admit +that the Wrights were the first to +fly, do you?"</p> + +<p>The Hungarian closed his mouth, +abruptly.</p> + +<p>Joe said evenly, "But even if Ivan +Ivanovitch, or whatever you claim his +name was, didn't invent flight of +heavier than air craft, the glider was +flown variously before 1900, including +Otto Lilienthal in the 1890s, and +was designed as far back as Leonardo +da Vinci."</p> + +<p>The Sov-world colonel stared at +him for a long moment, then gave an +inane giggle. He stepped back and +flicked Joe Mauser a salute. "Very +well, captain. As a matter of routine, +I shall report this use of an aircraft +for reconnaissance purposes, and undoubtedly +a commission will meet to +investigate the propriety of the departure. +Meanwhile, good luck!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap">Joe returned the salute and swung a +leg over the cockpit's side. Max was +already in the front seat, his semaphore +flags, maps and binoculars on +his lap. He had been staring in dismay +at the Sov officer, now was relieved +that Joe had evidently pulled it +off.</p> + +<p>Joe waved to the plane ahead. Two +mechanics had come up to steady the +wings for the initial ten or fifteen feet +of the motorless craft's passage over +the ground behind the towing craft.</p> + +<p>Joe said to Max, "did you explain +to the pilot that under no circumstances +was he to pass over the line of +the military reservation, that we'd cut +before we reached that point?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Max said nervously. He'd +flown before, on the commercial lines, +but he'd never been in a glider.</p> + +<p>They began lurching across the +field, slowly, then gathering speed. +And as the sailplane took speed, it +took grace. After it had been pulled +a hundred feet or so, Joe eased back +the stick and it slipped gently into +the air, four or five feet off the ground. +The towing airplane was still taxiing, +but with its tow airborne it picked up +speed quickly. Another two hundred +feet and it, too, was in the air and +beginning to climb. The glider behind +held it to a speed of sixty miles +or so.</p> + +<p>At ten thousand feet, the plane leveled +off and the pilot's head swiveled +to look back at them. Joe Mauser +waved to him and dropped the release +lever which ejected the nylon rope +from the glider's nose. The plane dove +away, trailing the rope behind it. Joe +knew that the plane pilot would later +drop it over the airport where it could +easily be retrieved.</p> + +<p>In the direction of Mount Overlook +he could see cumulus clouds and the +dark turbulence which meant strong +updraft. He headed in that direction.</p> + +<p>Except for the whistling of wind, +there is complete silence in a soaring +glider. Max Mainz began to call back +to his superior, was taken back by the +volume, and dropped his voice. He +said, "Look, captain. What keeps it +up?"</p> + +<p>Joe grinned. He liked the buoyance +of glider flying, the nearest approach +of man to the bird, and thus far everything +was going well. He told +Max, "An airplane plows through the +air currents, a glider rides on top of +them."</p> + +<p>"Yeah, but suppose the current is +going down?"</p> + +<p>"Then we avoid it. This sailplane +only has a gliding angle ratio of one +to twenty-five, but it's a workhorse +with a payload of some four hundred +pounds. A really high performance +glider can have a ratio of as much as +one to forty."</p> + +<p>Joe had found a strong updraft +where a wind ran up the side of a +mountain. He banked, went into a +circling turn. The gauge indicated +they were climbing at the rate of +eight meters per second, nearly fifteen +hundred feet a minute.</p> + +<p>Max hadn't got the rundown on +the theory of the glider. That was +obvious in his expression.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser, even while searching +the ground below keenly, went into +it further. "A wind up against a +mountain will give an updraft, storm +clouds will, even a newly plowed +field in a bright sun. So you go from +one of these to the next."</p> + +<p>"Yeah, great, but when you're between," +Max protested.</p> + +<p>"Then, when you have a one to +twenty-five ratio, you go twenty-five +feet forward for each one you drop. +If you started a mile high, you could +go twenty-five miles before you +touched ground." He cut himself off +quickly. "Look, what's that, down +there? Get your glasses on it."</p> + +<p>Max caught his excitement. His +binoculars were tight to his eyes. +"Sojers. Cavalry. They sure ain't +ours. They must be Hovercraft lads. +And look, field artillery."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser was piloting with his +left hand, his right smoothing out a +chart on his lap. He growled, "What +are they doing there? That's at least a +full brigade of cavalry. Here, let me +have those glasses."</p> + +<p>With his knees gripping the stick, +he went into a slow circle, as he +stared down at the column of men. +"Jack Alshuler," he whistled in surprise. +"The marshal's crack heavy cavalry. +And several batteries of artillery." +He swung the glasses in a +wider scope and the whistle turned +into a hiss of comprehension. +"They're doing a complete circle of +the reservation. They're going to hit +the Baron from the direction of +Phoenicia."</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>X</h2> + +<p class="cap">Marshal Stonewall Cogswell directed +his old fashioned telescope in the +direction his chief of staff indicated.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he grunted.</p> + +<p>"It's an airplane, sir."</p> + +<p>"Over a military reservation with a +fracas in progress?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." The other put his glasses +back on the circling object. "Then +what is it, sir? Certainly not a free balloon."</p> + +<p>"Balloons," the marshal snorted, as +though to himself. "Legal to use. The +Union forces had them toward the +end of the Civil War. But practically +useless in a fracas of movement."</p> + +<p>They were standing before the +former resort hotel which housed the +marshal's headquarters. Other staff +members were streaming from the +building, and one of the ever-present +Telly reporting crews were hurriedly +setting up cameras.</p> + +<p>The marshal turned and barked, +"Does anybody know what in Zen +that confounded thing, circling up +there, is?"</p> + +<p>Baron Zwerdling, the aging Category +Transport magnate, head of Continental +Hovercraft, hobbled onto the +wooden veranda and stared with the +others. "An airplane," he croaked. +"Haer's gone too far this time. Too +far, too far. This will strip him. Strip +him, understand." Then he added, +"Why doesn't it make any noise?"</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Colonel Paul Warren +stood next to his commanding officer. +"It looks like a glider, sir."</p> + +<p>Cogswell glowered at him. "A +what?"</p> + +<p>"A glider, sir. It's a sport not particularly +popular these days."</p> + +<p>"What keeps it up, confound it?"</p> + +<p>Paul Warren looked at him. "The +same thing that keeps a hawk up, an +albatross, a gull—"</p> + +<p>"A vulture, you mean," Cogswell +snarled. He watched it for another +long moment, his face working. He +whirled on his chief of artillery. "Jed, +can you bring that thing down?"</p> + +<p>The other had been viewing the +craft through field binoculars, his face +as shocked as the rest of them. Now +he faced his chief, and lowered the +glasses, shaking his head. "Not with +the artillery of pre-1900. No, sir."</p> + +<p>"What can you do?" Cogswell +barked.</p> + +<p>The artillery man was shaking his +head. "We could mount some Maxim +guns on wagon wheels, or something. +Keep him from coming low."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't have to come low," +Cogswell growled unhappily. He +spun on Lieutenant Colonel Warren +again. "When were they invented?" +He jerked his thumb upward. "Those +things."</p> + +<p>Warren was twisting his face in +memory. "Some time about the turn of +the century."</p> + +<p>"How long can the things stay up?"</p> + +<p>Warren took in the surrounding +mountainous countryside. "Indefinitely, +sir. A single pilot, as long as he is +physically able to operate. If there are +two pilots up there to relieve each +other, they could stay until food and +water ran out."</p> + +<p>"How much weight do they carry?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure. One that size, certainly +enough for two men and any +equipment they'd need. Say, five hundred +pounds."</p> + +<p>Cogswell had his telescope glued +to his eyes again, he muttered under +his breath, "Five hundred pounds! +They could even unload dynamite +over our horses. Stampede them all +over the reservation."</p> + +<p>"What's going on?" Baron Zwerdling +shrilled. "What's going on Marshal +Cogswell?"</p> + +<p>Cogswell ignored him. He watched +the circling, circling craft for a full +five minutes, breathing deeply. Then +he lowered his glass and swept the assembled +officers of his staff with an +indignant glare. "Ten Eyck!" he +grunted.</p> + +<p>An infantry colonel came to attention. +"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>Cogswell said heavily, deliberately. +"Under a white flag. A dispatch to +Baron Haer. My compliments and request +for his terms. While you're at it, +my compliments also to Captain Joseph +Mauser."</p> + +<p>Zwerdling was bug-eyeing him. +"Terms!" he rasped.</p> + +<p>The marshal turned to him. "Yes, +sir. Face reality. We're in the dill. I +suggest you sue for terms as short of +complete capitulation as you can +make them."</p> + +<p>"You call yourself a soldier—!" the +transport tycoon began to shrill.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Cogswell snapped. "A +soldier, not a butcher of the lads under +me." He called to the Telly reporter +who was getting as much of +this as he could. "Mr. Soligen, isn't +it?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The reporter scurried forward, +flicking signals to his cameramen for +proper coverage. "Yes, sir. Freddy +Soligen, marshal. Could you tell the +Telly fans what this is all about, +Marshal Cogswell? Folks, you all +know the famous marshal. Marshal +Stonewall Cogswell, who hasn't lost a +fracas in nearly ten years, now commanding +the forces of Continental +Hovercraft."</p> + +<p>"I'm losing one now," Cogswell +said grimly. "Vacuum Tube Transport +has pulled a gimmick out of the hat +and things have pickled for us. It +will be debated before the Military +Category Department, of course, and +undoubtedly the Sov-world military +attaches will have things to say. But +as it appears now, the fracas as we +have known it, has been revolutionized."</p> + +<p>"Revolutionized?" Even the Telly +reporter was flabbergasted. "You mean +by that thing?" He pointed upward, +and the lenses of the cameras followed +his finger.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Cogswell growled unhappily. +"Do all of you need a blueprint? +Do you think I can fight a fracas with +that thing dangling above me, +throughout the day hours? Do you understand +the importance of reconnaissance +in warfare?" His eyes glowered. +"Do you think Napoleon would have +lost Waterloo if he'd had the advantage +of perfect reconnaissance such +as that thing can deliver? Do you +think Lee would have lost Gettysburg? +Don't be ridiculous." He spun +on Baron Zwerdling, who was stuttering +his complete confusion.</p> + +<p>"As it stands, Baron Haer knows +every troop dispensation I make. All +I know of his movements are from +my cavalry scouts. I repeat, I am no +butcher, sir. I will gladly cross swords +with Baron Haer another day, when I, +too, have ... what did you call the +confounded things, Paul?"</p> + +<p>"Gliders," Lieutenant Colonel Warren +said.</p> + +<hr class="maj" /> +<h2>XI</h2> + +<p class="cap">Major Joseph Mauser, now attired +in his best off-duty Category Military +uniform, spoke his credentials to +the receptionist. "I have no definite +appointment, but I am sure the Baron +will see me," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." The receptionist did the +things that receptionists do, then +looked up at him again. "Right +through that door, major."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser gave the door a quick +double rap and then entered before +waiting an answer.</p> + +<p>Balt Haer, in mufti, was standing +at a far window, a drink in his hand, +rather than his customary swagger +stick. Nadine Haer sat in an easy-chair. +The girl Joe Mauser loved had +been crying.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser, suppressing his +frown, made with the usual amenities.</p> + +<p>Balt Haer without answering +them, finished his drink in a gulp and +stared at the newcomer. The old +stare, the aloof stare, an aristocrat +looking at an underling as though +wondering what made the fellow +tick. He said, finally, "I see you have +been raised to Rank Major."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Joe said.</p> + +<p>"We are obviously occupied, major. +What can either my sister or I +possibly do for you?"</p> + +<p>Joe kept his voice even. He said, +"I wanted to see the Baron."</p> + +<p>Nadine Haer looked up, a twinge +of pain crossing her face.</p> + +<p>"Indeed," Balt Haer said flatly. +"You are talking to the Baron, Major +Mauser."</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser looked at him, then at +his sister, who had taken to her +handkerchief again. Consternation +ebbed up and over him in a flood. +He wanted to say something such as, +"Oh <i>no</i>," but not even that could +he utter.</p> + +<p>Haer was bitter. "I assume I know +why you are here, major. You have +come for your pound of flesh, undoubtedly. +Even in these hours of +our grief—"</p> + +<p>"I ... I didn't know. Please believe ..."</p> + +<p>"... You are so constituted that +your ambition has no decency. Well, +Major Mauser, I can only say that +your arrangement was with my father. +Even if I thought it a reasonable +one, I doubt if I would sponsor your +ambitions myself."</p> + +<p>Nadine Haer looked up wearily. +"Oh, Balt, come off it," she said. +"The fact is, the Haer fortunes contracted +a debt to you, major. Unfortunately, +it is a debt we cannot pay." +She looked into his face. "First, my +father's governmental connections +do not apply to us. Second, six +months ago, my father, worried +about his health and attempting to +avoid certain death taxes, transferred +the family stocks into Balt's name. +And Balt saw fit, immediately before +the fracas, to sell all Vacuum Tube +Transport stocks, and invest in Hovercraft."</p> + +<p>"That's enough, Nadine," her +brother snapped nastily.</p> + +<p>"I see," Joe said. He came to attention. +"Dr. Haer, my apologies for +intruding upon you in your time of +bereavement." He turned to the new +Baron. "Baron Haer, my apologies +for <i>your</i> bereavement."</p> + +<p>Balt Haer glowered at him.</p> + +<p>Joe Mauser turned and marched +for the door which he opened then +closed behind him.</p> + +<p>On the street, before the New +York offices of Vacuum Tube Transport, +he turned and for a moment +looked up at the splendor of the +building.</p> + +<p>Well, at least the common shares +of the concern had skyrocketed following +the victory. His rank had +been upped to Major, and old Stonewall +Cogswell had offered him a +permanent position on his staff in +command of aerial operations, no +small matter of prestige. The difficulty +was, he wasn't interested in the +added money that would accrue to +him, nor the higher rank—nor the +prestige, for that matter.</p> + +<p>He turned to go to his hotel.</p> + +<p>An unbelievably beautiful girl +came down the steps of the building. +She said, "Joe."</p> + +<p>He looked at her. "Yes?"</p> + +<p>She put a hand on his sleeve. +"Let's go somewhere and talk, Joe."</p> + +<p>"About what?" He was infinitely +weary now.</p> + +<p>"About goals," she said. "As long +as they exist, whether for individuals, +or nations, or a whole species, +life is still worth the living. Things +are a bit bogged down right now, +but at the risk of sounding very +trite, there's tomorrow."</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/006.png" width="144" height="150" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="trans1"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br /> +This etext was produced from <i>Analog</i> April 1962. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mercenary, by Dallas McCord Reynolds + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MERCENARY *** + +***** This file should be named 24370-h.htm or 24370-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/3/7/24370/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/24370-h/images/001-1.png b/24370-h/images/001-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..10b7cb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/001-1.png diff --git a/24370-h/images/001-2.png b/24370-h/images/001-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..45f9875 --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/001-2.png diff --git a/24370-h/images/002.png b/24370-h/images/002.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db1097c --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/002.png diff --git a/24370-h/images/003-1.png b/24370-h/images/003-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3d9632 --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/003-1.png diff --git a/24370-h/images/003-2.png b/24370-h/images/003-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1ddcb9 --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/003-2.png diff --git a/24370-h/images/004.png b/24370-h/images/004.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd4721b --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/004.png diff --git a/24370-h/images/005.png b/24370-h/images/005.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..569b663 --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/005.png diff --git a/24370-h/images/006.png b/24370-h/images/006.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a921b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/24370-h/images/006.png |
