from his face.
"All right," he said. "Now listen to my fling. You've got a lot to
learn."

* * * * *

Joe held his peace, if only in pure amazement. He ranked the little
man opposite him in both caste and in professional attainments.
Besides which, he was a combat officer and unused to being addressed
with less than full respect, even from superiors. For unlucky Joe
Mauser might be in his chosen field, but respected he was.

Freddy Soligen pointed a finger at him, almost mockingly. "You're on
the make, Mauser. In a world where few bother, any more, you're on the
way up. The trouble is, you took the wrong path many years ago."

Joe snorted his contempt of the other's lack of knowledge. "I was born
into the Clothing Category, Sub-division Shoes, Branch Repair. In the
old days they called us cobblers. You think you could work your way up
from Mid-Lower to Upper caste with that beginning, Soligen? Zen! we
don't even have cobblers any more, shoes are thrown away as soon as
they show wear. Sure, sure, sure. Theoretically, under People's
Capitalism, you can cross categories into any field you want. But have
you ever heard of anybody doing any real jumping of caste levels in
any category except Military or Religion? I didn't take the wrong
path, religion is a little too strong for even my stomach, which left
the Category Military the only path available."

Freddy had heard him out, his face twisted sourly. He said now, "You
misunderstand. I realize that the military's the only quick way of
getting a bounce in caste. I wish I'd figured that out sooner, before
I made a trade out of the one I was born into, Communications. It's
too late now, I'm into my forties with a busted marriage but the proud
papa of a kid." He twisted his face again in another grimace. "By the
way, the boy's a novitiate in Category Religion."

Some elements were clearing up in Joe's mind. He said, in
comprehension, "So ... we're both ambitious."

"That's right, major. Now, let's get back to fundamentals. Your wrong
path is the _manner_ in which you're trying to work your way up into
the elite. You've got to become a celebrated hero, major. And it's the
Telly fan, the fracas-buff, who decides who the Category Military
heroes are. Those are the slobs you have to toady to. In the long run,
nobody else counts. I know, I know. All the old pros, even big names
like Stonewall Cogswell and Jack Alshuler, think you're a top man.