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."
"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--"
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."
"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."
"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."
"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--"
Joe snapped suddenly, "I was born a Mid-Lower myself, Max. Don't give me
that nonsense."
Max gaped at him, utterly unbelieving.
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."
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.
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 _What
was good enough for Daddy is good enough for me_.
"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.
"You don't sound much like you're in favor of your trade, captain," Max
said.
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."
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?"
"Well, no sir, not exactly."
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?"
"Yessir," Max said, taken aback.