napped 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.

IV

After routine morning duties, Joe Mauser returned to his billet and
mystified Max Mainz by not only changing