Chapter 8 - Classroom 102
The classrooms in the large building were smaller than anyone except Peter expected. The well-lit room already contained even dozen people. Four women and eight more men were in the room already. Copeland and Simon went over towards the back and waited for the teacher. Peter took a spot up near the front of the room.
"So what now?" Copeland asked Simon, "More bullshit?"
"Probably," Simon shrugged, "Kick back and watch. We’ve gotta make it through."
The entire class watched as the teacher came in. It wasn’t anyone that they’d seen before. Peter Lomax himself wasn’t sure what to make of this new teacher. This was his third semester of handling newbies and he had never seen this man before.
"Welcome to your first class in the Service Center," the large man said, pushing back a wild mane of long hair, "I am Mr. Irons and I’ll be teaching the first week or so of your class. I know you’ve probably heard many stories and a few of them weren’t so pretty. Well I’m here to clean a lot of that up and to tell you what you’re really here for."
"Mr. Irons" looked around the room with a genuine smile on his face. He looked over the group, but at four of the students in particular. He hadn’t been in one of these classrooms in over a quarter century. The picture of youth was just as bright now as it had been then. He just wished he had done this for another reason.
"This is just the first day and you’re going to have plenty of time for the formalized plan," Mr. Irons said, "So today we’re going to learn a little bit about the history of the empire and why we’re here today."
"Why are we here today?" Simon asked, "That’s the one thing that my brother’s never could explain."
"Very good question son," Mr. Irons nodded, "It all goes back to the first days of the empire just over two thousand years ago."
A murmur went through the students. They all knew about the second millennial celebration, it had happened just over two years before. There had been major celebrations throughout the empire for months when it happened, something that was all in their minds.
"Yes," Mr. Irons nodded, "Did any of you ever think about just what that celebration meant?"
The students looked at each other and it was manifestly clear that they hadn’t. Irons chuckled, let them get over it and decided that it was time to give a full history lesson. He just hoped that he could remember it well enough himself in order to get it right.
"Many years ago," Irons said, sitting on the edge of the wooden table at the front of the room, "Before the Empire existed there was a number of nations in the world, some good, some bad and many others indifferent."
"Sounds like today," Copeland said, "A lot of shades of gray."
"That’s true," Irons nodded, looking closely at the young man, "Unlike now though, these nations had access to technology that could boggle the mind. They were able to make things that we can only dream about today. In addition to little gizmos, they also were able to make weapons. Terrible weapons that could destroy a city in a flash."
He made an arm motion that got a gasp out of his crowd. He knew that he had their attention now. He looked into his memory for the details that he couldn’t quite remember.
"The details were lost many centuries ago," Irons said, "But there was a war. Men and women died by the thousands, millions even. Records were lost, the world itself even changed. Landmasses moved, land flooded, new land was created from what was once the ocean floor.
"The few who survived the initial firing of the weapons did so underground. They had to live for years under there. Knowledge was lost and the world itself had made some of it useless anyway. Some of the more superstitious people who lived at that time thought it was the planet’s way of getting revenge."
"Is that why things stay mechanical?" Hael Stainway asked, "Anytime they try to automate too much it stops working?"
"Pretty much," Mr. Irons nodded, "It’s been two millennia and things still don’t work right at times especially when it comes to electricity. It’s like the planet has a giant electrical field that keeps anything electrical from working."
"So what does this have to do with the empire?" Suvorov asked, getting bored with the display.
"I’m glad you asked," Irons nodded, "It has a lot to do with the empire."
The students all looked around at each other. None of them was expecting a lesson like this. It was far enough out of the ordinary that even Peter Lomax looked around. He’d never seen an initial class like this.
"The Empire was not intended to be such originally," Irons said, looking up a little, "It started with the descendents of a group of survivors. They’d spent five years underground trying to get back to the surface. Their leader, once back on the surface, was a man by the name of Marcus Mullinix."
This was a story that none of the students had ever heard before, one that really wasn’t studied much outside of the history archives. They were all riveted with the story and the way that Irons was telling it. He was making a point and he knew it was getting in.
"When he and the others came up, they started to build again," Irons continued, "When they figured out that the technology from ages past didn’t work, they began to build again. Mullinix Centre is the city that they started to build. It was tough work, backbreaking. The environment was against them.
"Before long, other survivors came and joined this group. It began as a city and soon started growing. They tamed the land and made it livable using whatever they could. Because Marcus Mullinix was the one who had led them out of the darkness, he was the one that became the leader. This is when the Mullinix Empire was born.
"The thing was that he didn’t want to become the leader. He knew how things happened and he knew the history of what had happened before. He knew that he would be all right as the leader, but didn’t quite know what would come after him. He could go to a democratic form, but leading by committee didn’t work either. The wars had been started by several democracies that couldn’t work together."
"How could that happen?" Copeland asked, "How could a democracy go so wrong if the people were in control?"
"That’s just the thing," Irons said, "People were not in control of it. They had to elect representatives. Could you imagine running something as large as the Mullinix Empire by committee? When you elect representatives by nature the job goes not to the person who can do it the best but to the person who is best at marketing himself. That skews the representation."
"So what was his answer?" a girl over in the corner asked.
"His answer was a long time in coming," Irons said, nodding at the girl, "He knew that he had to put together a way to make sure that the best person for the job was chosen instead of the person who was best able to put themselves into the job.
"Marcus Mullinix knew that his family wouldn’t be the answer, as his sons were not qualified. When he started to get a little older he came upon the solution, the solution that we still live with today. Instead of holding the power next to him until he died, he chose a successor. He knew the people around him and knew the one he wanted to succeed him, the one who wanted it the least.
"That’s how the idea of succession was born. When Marcus Mullinix, the man who’s name would become the title of our rulers, got old they brought in another apprentice. It has gone on that way ever since. Over the succeeding generations it was refined to the process we have now. If one Mullinix dies, another apprentice is chosen."
"But there are so many people," Hael said, "How do they know who is best for it?"
"That’s what the tests you take all your lives are for," Irons told them, "It helps them determine personality types. They know what they are looking for and who is best suited to do it. They always have choices in mind, even if they aren’t needed. This ensures that if something happens they can have a new Mullinix-apprentice within hours."
"That still doesn’t explain why we’re here," Suvorov said, smiling a
little, "Nice to know that bit of history though."
"That was the other legacy of Marcus Mullinix," Irons said, "One of the big problems in the democracies of the past was that citizens became complacent and stopped realizing what the source of what they had was. He decided that would never happen here.
"That’s why every citizen goes through this process. You learn about the political and legal processes here in the empire. You learn the history and the reasons why things are done like they are. His feeling was right on the money. This may seem boring at times, but it is necessary."
"So it’s to teach us what makes us free?" Simon asked him.
"Exactly," Irons nodded, "It isn’t the Mullinix that makes the empire. It is you. Each one of you can and will contribute to the future wellbeing of this nation. That’s why the Mullinix is chosen from you. You’re young and have nothing to unlearn."
"But what if we don’t want to be the Mullinix?" Copeland asked him, "Don’t we get a choice?"
"Yes," Irons said, looking right into the boy’s eyes, "You get a choice. Thing is, if you are chosen then it’s because you’re best suited. Nobody has ever refused."
Copeland Steele looked at the older man and shuddered at the thought of having that much power. Massimaferro, as Mr. Irons, knew then and there that he had the right person. The other three probably could do the job, but the one that was the most adamant about not having the power would be the right person for it.
"That’s enough for now," ‘Mr. Irons’ said finally, "You all have a history lesson where you will get more details on these subjects. Enjoy it. This is the easiest part of your Civil Service term. Mr. Lomax, will you pass out the individual schedules."
There was a general murmur among the students, as none of them had been expecting a lesson like this the first day. Lomax handed out the schedules as he had been ordered, but he was still taken a bit aback by this as well. Everyone started filing out of the room when Irons stopped Suvorov.
"A word with you please, Mr. Suvorov," he said.
"Sure," Suvorov said, "I’ll be in class in a few, Peter."
"Anything else you need, Mr. Irons?" Peter said, not quite understanding what was going on.
"That’s all," Irons smiled, "Thanks, Peter."
Peter nodded and followed the others out, leaving Suvorov and Irons alone. Irons closed the door to the small classroom and pulled the wig off, revealing his own thinning hair. He pulled off the fake mustache and the prosthetic nose that had been put on him. Suvorov smiled and looked at the Mullinix.
"I should have figured," Suvorov said, "I knew there was something familiar about you, Mr. Irons."
"Well," Massimaferro chuckled, "The last part of my name means iron. Good enough. I wanted to see them all myself."
"Taliaferro is that bad, is he?" Suvorov said, "I take it Copeland Steele is on your short list."
"There are three others in here," Massimaferro said, "But the scores on Steele are the best."
"He certainly doesn’t want it," Suvorov said, "And he’s tougher than he looks. I knew I didn’t have the ability to get close to him, so I played it from the other side. Pushed him to see if I could cow him."
"Could you?" Massimaferro asked him.
"No," Suvorov admitted, "He’s too bright for that. He doesn’t want power and he wants to avoid the army like the plague."
"He might get his wish on that," Massimaferro said, "Taliaferro doesn’t have long left. He’s been pushing us to choose."
"Hours? Days? Weeks?" Suvorov said.
"I don’t know," Massimaferro said honestly, "Medico Rasten thinks he’s holding on by sheer will."
"He’s a tough old bird," Suvorov said, "My father was in the guard when he was the active Mullinix. Some of his stories are why I wanted to join."
"Just be careful with him," Massimaferro said, "Get on to class so they don’t start worrying."
"Yes sir," Suvorov smiled, "Good luck, Mullinix."
"We could all use some," Massimaferro nodded, "Because it’s going to be a long ride."
The Mullinix Book 1: Ascension Page 9