she said in excellent standard Solar. “I’m Tatiana Sinai-Peres.”
She held out a hand to Luther Brachis. Tatty was tall, slim, and spectacular. She stood eye to eye with Brachis, who openly gawked at her. She stared right back at him. Her gaze was direct and bold, with bright brown eyes. But there were tired smudges of darkness underneath them, and the grey tone of Paradox addiction marred her complexion. The skin of her face and neck was clear and unblemished, but it was the skin of one who never saw sunlight. Her dark green dress was loose sleeved, revealing an array of tiny purple-black dots along her thin arms. In contrast to King Bester and the rest of the crowd Tatty was spotlessly clean, with neat attire, carefully groomed dark hair, and well-kept fingernails.
“I assume that it’s a first-time visit,” she went on to Brachis. “What can I do for you?”
Mondrian squinted at her in the strong light of the Sun-simulator. “It’s not what you think.” He reached up to touch her bare arm. “Sit down, Princess, and let me tell you what’s going on.”
“I’ll sit down, Essy. But not here. There’s too much light—it would fry me. Let’s Link back north to my place, and I’ll introduce your friends to some genuine Earth food.” She smiled at the uncertain look on Kubo Flammarion’s face. “Don’t worry, Soldier. I’ll make sure it’s not too rich for Commoners.”
* * *
Rank Has Its Privileges. That had never been more true than during the first decades of space development. One odd and predictable—yet unexpected—consequence of automation and excess productive capacity had been the re-emergence of the class system. The old aristocracy, diminished (but never quite destroyed) during the days of world-wide poverty and experimental social programs, had returned; and there were some curious additions to their ranks.
It had been surprising, but inevitable. When all of Earth’s manufacturing moved to the computer-controlled assembly lines, employment needs went down as efficiency went up. Soon it was learned that in the fuzzy areas of “management” and “government,” most business and development decisions could also be routinely (and more effectively) handled by computer. At the same time, lack of results and impatience with academic studies had squeezed education to a few years of mandatory schooling.
The unemployment rate grew to ninety percent. The available jobs on Earth called for no special skills—so who would get them?
Naturally, those with well-placed friends and relatives. There had been a wonderful blossoming of nepotism, unmatched within the previous thousand years. Many positions called for prospective employees to possess a “stable base of operations and adequate working materials.” With living accommodations and family possessions passed on across the generations, the advantage lay always with those from the old families.
Meanwhile, away from Earth there was a real need for people. The solar system was ripe for development. It offered an environment that was demanding, dangerous, and full of unbounded opportunities. And it had a nasty habit of cancelling any man-made advantage derived from birth, wealth, or spurious academic “qualifications.” Cancelling permanently.
The rich and the royal were not without their own shrewdness. After a quick look at space, they stayed home on Earth, the one place in the system where their safety, superiority, and status were all assured. It was the low-born, seeing no upward mobility on Earth, who took the big leap—outward.
The result was too effective to be the work of human planners. The tough, desperate commoners fought their way to space, generation after generation. The introduction of the Mattin Link quadrupled the rate of exodus, and the society that was left on Earth became more and more titled and self-conscious. Well-protected from material want and free from external pressures, it naturally developed an
She held out a hand to Luther Brachis. Tatty was tall, slim, and spectacular. She stood eye to eye with Brachis, who openly gawked at her. She stared right back at him. Her gaze was direct and bold, with bright brown eyes. But there were tired smudges of darkness underneath them, and the grey tone of Paradox addiction marred her complexion. The skin of her face and neck was clear and unblemished, but it was the skin of one who never saw sunlight. Her dark green dress was loose sleeved, revealing an array of tiny purple-black dots along her thin arms. In contrast to King Bester and the rest of the crowd Tatty was spotlessly clean, with neat attire, carefully groomed dark hair, and well-kept fingernails.
“I assume that it’s a first-time visit,” she went on to Brachis. “What can I do for you?”
Mondrian squinted at her in the strong light of the Sun-simulator. “It’s not what you think.” He reached up to touch her bare arm. “Sit down, Princess, and let me tell you what’s going on.”
“I’ll sit down, Essy. But not here. There’s too much light—it would fry me. Let’s Link back north to my place, and I’ll introduce your friends to some genuine Earth food.” She smiled at the uncertain look on Kubo Flammarion’s face. “Don’t worry, Soldier. I’ll make sure it’s not too rich for Commoners.”
* * *
Rank Has Its Privileges. That had never been more true than during the first decades of space development. One odd and predictable—yet unexpected—consequence of automation and excess productive capacity had been the re-emergence of the class system. The old aristocracy, diminished (but never quite destroyed) during the days of world-wide poverty and experimental social programs, had returned; and there were some curious additions to their ranks.
It had been surprising, but inevitable. When all of Earth’s manufacturing moved to the computer-controlled assembly lines, employment needs went down as efficiency went up. Soon it was learned that in the fuzzy areas of “management” and “government,” most business and development decisions could also be routinely (and more effectively) handled by computer. At the same time, lack of results and impatience with academic studies had squeezed education to a few years of mandatory schooling.
The unemployment rate grew to ninety percent. The available jobs on Earth called for no special skills—so who would get them?
Naturally, those with well-placed friends and relatives. There had been a wonderful blossoming of nepotism, unmatched within the previous thousand years. Many positions called for prospective employees to possess a “stable base of operations and adequate working materials.” With living accommodations and family possessions passed on across the generations, the advantage lay always with those from the old families.
Meanwhile, away from Earth there was a real need for people. The solar system was ripe for development. It offered an environment that was demanding, dangerous, and full of unbounded opportunities. And it had a nasty habit of cancelling any man-made advantage derived from birth, wealth, or spurious academic “qualifications.” Cancelling permanently.
The rich and the royal were not without their own shrewdness. After a quick look at space, they stayed home on Earth, the one place in the system where their safety, superiority, and status were all assured. It was the low-born, seeing no upward mobility on Earth, who took the big leap—outward.
The result was too effective to be the work of human planners. The tough, desperate commoners fought their way to space, generation after generation. The introduction of the Mattin Link quadrupled the rate of exodus, and the society that was left on Earth became more and more titled and self-conscious. Well-protected from material want and free from external pressures, it naturally developed an
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