cated
aristocracy had, not necessarily unkindly, named their status inferiors
_niggers_; or other aristocrats, in another area of the country, had
named theirs _greasers_. Yes, how well he knew.

He said very evenly, "Mid-Middle now, Miss. However, I was born in the
Lower castes."

An eyebrow went up. "Zen! You must have put in many an hour studying.
You talk like an Upper, captain." She dropped all interest in him and
turned to resume her journey.

"Just a moment," Joe said. "You can't go in there, Miss--"

Her eyebrows went up again. "The name is Haer," she said. "Why can't I
go in here, captain?"

Now it came to him why he had thought he recognized her. She had basic
features similar to those of that overbred poppycock, Balt Haer.

"Sorry," Joe said. "I suppose under the circumstances, you can. I was
about to tell you that they're recruiting with lads running around half
clothed. Medical inspections, that sort of thing."

She made a noise through her nose and said over her shoulder, even as
she sailed on. "Besides being a Haer, I'm an M.D., captain. At the
ludicrous sight of a man shuffling about in his shorts, I seldom blush."

She was gone.

Joe Mauser looked after her. "I'll bet you don't," he muttered.

Had she waited a few minutes he could have explained his Upper accent
and his unlikely education. When you'd copped one you had plenty of
opportunity in hospital beds to read, to study, to contemplate--and to
fester away in your own schemes of rebellion against fate. And Joe had
copped many in his time.

III

By the time Joe Mauser called it a day and retired to his quarters he
was exhausted to the point where his basic dissatisfaction with the
trade he followed was heavily upon him.

He had met his immediate senior officers, largely dilettante Uppers with
precious little field experience, and was unimpressed. And he'd met his
own junior officers and was shocked. By the looks of things at this
stage, Captain Mauser's squadron would be going into this fracas both
undermanned with Rank Privates and with junior officers composed largely
of temporarily promoted noncoms. If this was typical of Baron Haer's
total force, then Balt Haer had been correct; unconditional surrender
was to be considered, no matter how disastrous to Haer family fortunes.

Joe had been able to take immediate delivery of one kilted uniform. Now,
inside his quarters, he began stripping out of his jacket. Somewhat to
his s