She dropped her eyes, obviously embarrassed.
He felt sorry that he embarrassed her, even though he was angry that his social class would come up as a topic of conversation.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “If I had a first-class name, you would simply judge me as a stupid, young Kalenden Lieutenant who didn’t take care to protect his feet and, oh, well, everybody makes mistakes. But, because I’m from a lower-class, everyone will wonder if my feet are toast because of inferior breeding or poor training. After all, isn’t it just like those people to forget something as simple as that?” In spite of his best effort, he failed to conceal the anger in his voice.
Tara looked up and said evenly, “You have misunderstood me completely, Lieutenant. Most of your first-class officers are dead because they were lying on top of their sleeping bags to enjoy the night air. That, of course, was against regulations. So when it comes to being stupid, the evidence goes against your first-class families. And the reason I asked about your class is that I’m interested in how classes interact in Kalenden society and I thought you might be the person who could explain it to me, confidentially.” She tried to conceal the hurt in her voice, but failed, and Magill felt miserable.
“I’m sorry, but I guess I still carry a chip on my shoulder. It seems like I’ve spent a lifetime explaining myself. First to my third-class friends who think I’m a traitor for going to Kalenden Arms and then to my first-class friends who can’t imagine how we lower-class people get upset and think they’re bigoted when they treat us so kindly. They just don’t get what it means to feel patronized.”
“Now, that’s what I mean,” she said earnestly. “I’m from a leading family on Alturus and I’m sure I don’t know how our lower-class families feel. I want to, very much. But, none of them will talk to me, at least not honestly. They only say what they think I want to hear. Maybe you can help me understand.”
“Alright,” Magill answered. “I’ll try. But I’m not sure I can be that helpful, since Kalenden is probably quite different from Alturus. You have royalty, we don’t. On Alturus, both government leadership and social status are hereditary. On Kalenden, it’s possible for lower-classes to make it into government service.”
“That’s basically correct,” Tara confirmed, “but in practice, many of our bureaucrats also come from the lower-classes and hold responsible positions.”
“On Kalenden we have a constitutional democracy with no Royal Family. That’s why there was a split between our two planets. Our House of Commons is responsible for government operations, with the Prime Minister selected from within the ruling party. Of course, even though elections are open, most PM’s are from prominent families since they have the most money to run an election. We also have a House of Hereditary Peers that can exercise a veto by a two-thirds vote, but only in matters of property rights and social conventions. As a group, the Peer’s have preserved their unity through the years to make sure there are no estate or inheritance taxes to break up their fortunes and that private schools can segregate against members of the lower-classes. With private funding, the best professors and teachers strive to work in private schools, so education for the lower-classes is quite limited. In theory, anyone from any class can attain leadership, but in practice, political parties favor members of the ruling families. Consequently, it’s been more than a hundred years since a member of the lower-class rose to a significant position of leadership, either within the cabinet or as Prime Minister. In my mind that’s de facto aristocracy.”
“Does your government function efficiently?”
“Yes, surprisingly, it does.”
“Is it generally fair to the lower-classes.”
“It is.”
“Then why do you resent it?’
Magill looked around the room. “Take a look at this place. This room is large enough to house four apartments in the neighborhood where I grew up. What an incredible waste of resources to heat, furnish and pamper a Royal Family that will never know what it’s like to make a house payment or acquire adequate food and clothing. This bed I’m in probably costs more than an average family spends to furnish their entire house.”
“Is it envy, then, that makes the lower-classes resent the upper class?”
“Maybe, for some. Not for me. I’m not jealous of this at all. How much space does one person need, anyway? What I hate is the presumption that heredity qualifies one for leadership. Genetic diversity in the general population is far more likely to produce outstanding character traits than selective breeding among the upper crust. While it’s true that some positive traits are strengthened over time, the weaknesses are, too. I think it’s deplorable that the most able and intelligent person on the planet may never get a chance to serve because his last name isn’t properly hyphenated.”
Magill was taking shallow breaths again, which frustrated him. He could feel the old anger rising. Tara continued though, in spite of his frustration.
“But, we believe it’s efficient to assign people roles early in life so their training can be customized. By giving each class specialized functions, society works at maximum efficiency. And since there are strict laws against discrimination, no one can speak down to a person of a lower-class. On Alturus a custodian receives the same regard as a cabinet minister.”
“Ah, yes, ‘noblesse oblige,’ the ancient Earth custom of royalty showing gratitude to their subjects. Don’t you see how patronizing that is? ‘Your work is just as important as ours. Of course our financial reward is a hundred thousand times greater than yours, but you are just as important to society.’ Sorry, but that’s a bunch of bunk.”
Her cheeks colored, but she continued, “And how would you organize society, Lieutenant?”
“Meritocracy. Create an open society where talent, ability and ambition determines who gets ahead. On Kalenden, only the kids from the upper class have a choice. The second and third-class families seldom get the opportunity, even if qualified. It’s a huge waste of talent.”
“What about you, it seems you progressed to the finest school?” She should have left it at that, but he’d irritated her. “Aren’t you a little ungrateful to the society that opened itself up for you?”
“Oh, yes, the token third-class student. It shows the universe that our society is really open by admitting one out of a class of four hundred. But, watch what happens if I ever fall in love with a girl of the first-class. Her family would put her on an extended tour of the Tatrian system so fast, her head would spin. ‘Nothing personal,’ of course. I may move far enough ahead to one day make it into the Quadrant Council – perhaps even a minister. The publicity would be great for the government. After all, I’d be a third-class success story. But, it’ll be a minor ministry, where I can’t do much damage. ”
Tara paused to catch her breath. There was a fire in Magill’s eye and his rhetoric was both appealing and frightening. His dark black hair framed his slender face with its sharply tapered chin, all of which added effect to his earnest authority and sense of lurking danger. She’d never been spoken to this way before and she found it intriguing. So she decided to push just a little more.
“You’ve got to remember, Lieutenant, that the early colonists were from democracies on earth and willingly chose to return to monarchy. The democracies had become decadent, with no social order. When every person was supreme in his or her own eyes, it became impossible to judge right and wrong. Their philosophy was ‘How can you condemn someone else when their morality is different than yours?’ In the end, the democracies became more lawless and the people were constantly anxious, even though they shared freely in the material abundance of their society.”
Magill started to interrupt, but hesitated as she continued. “Not only that, but their supposed equality was a sham. The money of the corporations and media combined to create a false sense of independence, while controlling the common people by taking advantage of their moral weaknesses. Gambling, material goods, and sexuality – all was availabl
e for a flat monthly fee. The rich grew incredibly rich, while the middle class was content thinking they were in control. All that changed when space travel became possible and hereditary leadership took over out here in the quadrants, making good and evil became fashionable again so people could begin living meaningful lives. I can’t see why that’s so bad. What’s wrong with creating an intellectual-elite with the inclination and intelligence to sort those things out and properly order society?”
Now it she was speaking with passion and Magill found himself wanting to slap or kiss her, for he’d never known anyone like her before.
“But, what if a first-class kid is an idiot? Does he still deserve a prime posting? No matter what you say, an aristocracy elevates the undeserving and still holds other people down. Think of China in ancient earth of the 21st century. They pretended to be Communists, with all people sharing in the common good, but the children of the political elite could get away with anything. At least that’s what the history books say. So, regardless of how benevolent the class system wants to be, it’s just not fair!”
Tara flashed, “It sounds like you’re pretty sympathetic to the rebels, while at the same time taking advantage of the hospitality of the Royal Family!”
Magill was about to lose it when he heard the confident voice of Major Wilkerson. “Did I just hear we rescued and harbor a rebel?”
Tara backed down immediately. “I’m afraid I provoked Lieutenant Magill. I asked him for some insight into Kalenden society, then argued with him when I didn’t like his answers.”
Magill’s irritation evaporated. “The last two people I want to fight with are you two. You saved my life, even though it slowed your own escape, so I owe you everything.” He swallowed hard. “I just get so anxious to do something to help the lower-classes attain their potential.” He looked from Tara to Wilkerson to see if they understood. “I’m not a rebel. And I’m certainly in no position to judge the monarchies of either Keswick or Alturus. All I know is that it’s hard for people in the upper class to understand what it’s like to grow up with limitations. I’ve had an opportunity to see things from both sides and when I talk like this, it’s not that I’m on the rebel’s side, but I do think it makes sense to try and understand your enemy. If you don’t understand what motivates them, how can you defeat them, or better, find a way to make peace?”
“That’s a rare insight,” said Tara. She took his hand. “Thank you for being honest. It’s what I asked for.”
“Lieutenant,” Wilkerson said, “when you are feeling up to it perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I joined you two for dinner. I don’t understand the rebels at all and whatever insight you can give me would be appreciated. They’re shrewd and likely to win if we don’t figure out how to stop them in the next few days. So, any information you or your friends can give me will help.”
“Speaking of friends,” said Tara, “there’s a brash, young, fighter pilot who claims he’s your best friend and demands to see you.”
“Travis Eaves is here?”
“That’s it, ‘Eaves!’ He’s notorious for having fired a dazzle blast that ended the atmosphere battle some twenty kilometers from here. It was the only thing that could end the mayhem.”
“Yeah, that would be Travis. May I see him?”
“I’ll go find him. But, remember, you’ve been in shock and shouldn’t let him get you too excited.” She laughed at herself and added, “And then I’ll try to stop sounding like your mother. I look forward to dinner with the two of you, Major.” She and Major Wilkerson left the room.
Magill grinned but didn’t notice he’d started whistling. The door opened and he looked up expectantly.
“Damn ground troops – a real nuisance when there’s heavy fighting to be done.”
“Inept fighters that leave us open to something as minor as a nuclear attack!”
Eaves approached and grabbed Magill’s cheeks. “You don’t look nearly as bad as they said you would. You should try to look sicker when they take your hero-photo. How do you feel?”
“Lucky. Wakely was incinerated and more than 90% of my unit was wiped out. Yet somehow I’m still alive.”
“Alive, but not kicking, I understand.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid I’m an invalid, at least for a while. But boy do I have the most beautiful nurse in the quadrant!”
“I saw her. She is beautiful. I hope you think of her as a sister, because I intend to ask her out.”
“You should hope. You know a woman can’t help but love a man in pain. Go find your own date.”
They laughed.
“I was really scared when Jesik said your camp had been hit by a nuclear blast. Then there was no communication with the base camp and I had to break our link to Allegro before I received a full report. I thought you’d bought it for sure. Of course death would have been great for your reputation.”
“The Allegro? I thought all communications with the ship were broken.”
“Mine was the last one to get through. The rebels learned our communications patterns and blocked them. If we had some decent equipment down here, we could overcome their jamming, but nearly all our fighters are out of commission and behind enemy lines. Mine’s hidden in the jungle and I’m working on an escape plan to get the Alliance personnel back into orbit.”
Magill felt better. Eaves was a great innovator and together they might come up with workable ideas. Their situation didn’t seem nearly as hopeless as just ten minutes earlier.
“Do, you plan to stay in that bed forever?”
“Uh, hadn’t really thought about it. It does feel pretty good.”
Eaves spoke into his communicator, “Captain Carling, please come in here for a moment?”
As Tara re-entered the room, Magill’s eyes grew wide and he whispered, “Captain?” Eaves smiled rather wickedly.
“What is it, Lieutenant?”
“Sorry to bother you ma’am, but in my opinion we have a slacker on our hands. This man has slept through nearly the whole battle. Isn’t it time he made himself useful?”
“Oh, you’re a doctor as well as a fighter pilot?”
Magill smiled and said, “It would feel great to take a shower, if that’s possible. I feel pretty grimy.”
“That’s too bad,” she said, “I hoped to give you another sponge bath, but, if you insist, I don’t see why not.”
Magill’s face flushed and Eaves burst out laughing.
“Perhaps you can call your partner, Lieutenant Eaves, and the two of you can help this man get used to walking on what used to be his feet.”
“Glad to, ma’am.” Eaves clicked a button on his communicator and said, “Mr. Carter, would you please join me in the Ambassador Suite. We’ve been asked to render aid to a stricken comrade.” He turned to Magill, “He does outrank me, so I have to make him think things are his idea.”
Tara sat down on the edge of Magill’s bed. “Let me tell you about walking. Right now the electronic monitors in your boots sense you’re not using your feet, so they’ve numbed them completely to erase the pain. When you attempt to stand, however, the boots will sense the pressure and reduce the masking effect so that you have enough feeling to move forward. But, it’s likely to be quite painful at first and you may flinch or think you’re injuring your feet. Don’t worry, though, you can’t do additional harm to them. In fact, it’s probably good for you to walk regularly before the nerves die. Eaves and Carter can support you to the shower.”
“At which time we’ll leave you on your own, no matter how painful it is,” added Eaves, “because there’s good naked and bad naked and you’re definitely not good.”
Captain Carling shook her head as if dealing with adolescents and said, “The boots are waterproof, so you don’t need to wrap them. Good luck.” She stood to leave the room.
“Well, no time like the present.” Magill sat up rather clumsily and swung his legs out to the floor.
“What about the bandages around my calves?”
�
��Oh, yes,” she said, turning, “The bandages aren’t attached to a monitor, so they’ll keep your legs numb below your knees. That will increase the challenge of walking, but you’ll have to do your best until you figure it out.”
Magill pulled the covers off his legs and Eaves helped him swing them off the bed. Another Lieutenant, about their same age joined them.
“Sean, this is Jason Carter. A decent Navigator, but even more serious than you, if that’s possible. I’ve decided my biggest combat risk is being bored to death by my friends.”
Magill looked up at the nasty scar on Carter’s face.
“A remnant of Lieutenant Eaves’ outstanding piloting,” said Carter. “He did his best to kill us both, but wasn’t quite up to it.”
“Of course Carter wouldn’t know all the details since I had to drag his scrawny body out of a dangling fighter. That’s another thing you two have in common – you both tend to fall asleep in the heat of battle.”
“I’m ready,” Magill interjected, “if you don’t mind.”
Eaves and Carter placed their hands under Magill’s arms and lifted him to his feet. As weight was applied to his feet his legs buckled at the knees. Then, after another second or two, Magill let out a howl that almost caused them to drop him.
“Judas priest,” he said breathlessly, “How can anything hurt this much?” Tears filled his eyes and he tried to sit back down on the bed.
“Hardest part’s over,” said Eaves. “Let’s just stand here until your boots figure out how to deal with this. Amazing, when you think about it – intelligent boots.”
After another ninety seconds of trembling, Magill regained his composure and declared, uncertainly, “Okay, let’s try to go forward.” He stumbled on his first two steps, began to walk properly on the third and then shuffled toward the bathroom. Eaves and Carter supported most of his weight, but with each step he gained some confidence.
“What does it feel like?” asked Carter.
Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials Page 11