. "Here we are," and indicated a door which opened at their
approach.

There was a receptionist in the small office beyond, a bit of ostentation
Joe Mauser seldom met with in the modern world. What in the name of Zen
could anyone need with other than an auto-receptionist? Didn't efficiency
mean anything here?

The receptionist said, "Good afternoon, Dr. Haer. Mr. Holland is
expecting you."

It came to Joe now--Philip Holland, secretary to Harlow Mannerheim,
the Minister of Foreign Affairs. He had met the man a few months ago
at Nadine's home in that swank section of Greater Washington once
known as Baltimore. But he had no idea what Nadine had in mind
bringing him here. Evidently, she was well enough into the graces of
the bureaucrat to barge into his office during working hours.
Surprising in itself, since, although she was an Upper born, still
governmental servants can't be at the beck of every hereditary
aristocrat in the land.

Holland stood up briefly at their entrance and shook hands quickly,
almost abruptly, held a chair for Nadine, motioned to another one for
Joe. He sat down again and said into an inter-office telly-mike, "Miss
Mikhail, the dossier on Joesph Mauser, and would you request Frank
Hodgson to drop in?"

What was obviously the dossier slid from the desk chute and Holland
leafed through it, as though disinterested. He said, "Joseph Mauser,
born Mid-Lower, Clothing Category, Sub-division Shoes, Branch Repair."
Holland looked up. "A somewhat plebian beginning, let us admit."

A tic manifested itself at the side of Joe Mauser's mouth, but he said
nothing. If long years of the military had taught him anything, it was
patience. The other man had the initiative now, let him use it.

Holland cast his eyes ceilingward, and, without referring to the
dossier before him, said, "Crossed categories at the age of seventeen
to Military, remaining a Rank Private for three years at which time
promoted to corporal. Sergeant followed in another three years and
upon reaching the rank of lieutenant, at the age of twenty-five was
bounced in caste to High-Lower. After distinguishing himself in a
fracas between Douglas-Boeing and Lockheed-Cessna was further raised
to Low-Middle caste. By the age of thirty had reached Mid-Middle caste
and Rank Captain. By thirty-three, the present, had been promoted to
major, and had been under consideration for Upper-Middle caste."

That last, Joe had not know about, however, he sa