(With the very faintest hesitation). "Oh, I've never thought much about it--upper middle, I suppose."

(_Citizen Dreister, age 43, occupation shoe vendor. A slender, mild man, young-looking for his years._)

"Yes, sir. Myra and I have three children of school age. All boys."

"Could you give me some idea what their education consists of?"

"They learn how to read and write, and how to become good citizens.

They're already starting to learn their trades. The oldest is going into the family business--shoes. The other two are taking apprenticeship courses in groceries and retail marketing. That's my wife's family's business. They also learn how to retain status, and how to utilize standard techniques for moving upward. That's about what goes on in the open cla.s.ses."

"Are there other school cla.s.ses which are not open?"

"Well, naturally there are the closed cla.s.ses. Every child attends them."

"And what do they learn in the closed cla.s.ses?"

"I don't know. They're closed, as I said."

"Don't the children ever speak about those cla.s.ses?"

"No. They talk about everything under the sun, but not about that."

"Haven't you any idea what goes on in the closed cla.s.ses?"

"Sorry, I don't. At a guess--and it's only a guess, mind you--I'd say it's probably something religious. But you'd have to ask a teacher for that."

"Thank you, sir. And how do you cla.s.sify yourself statuswise?"

"Middle middle cla.s.s. Not much doubt about that."

(_Citizen Maryjane Morgan, age 51, occupation school-teacher. A tall, bony woman._)

"Yes, sir, I think that just about sums up our curriculum at the Little Beige Schoolhouse."

"Except for the closed cla.s.ses."

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"The closed cla.s.ses. You haven't discussed those."

"I'm afraid I can't."

"Why not, Citizen Morgan?"

"Is this a trick question? Everyone knows that teachers aren't allowed in the closed cla.s.ses."

"Who _is_ allowed in?"

"The children, of course."

"But who teaches them?"

"The government is in charge of that."

"Of course. But who, specifically, does the teaching in the closed cla.s.ses?"

"I have no idea, sir. It's none of my business. The closed cla.s.ses are an ancient and respected inst.i.tution. What goes on in them is quite possibly of a religious nature. But that's only a guess. Whatever it is, it's none of my business. Nor is it yours, young man, Opinioner or not."

"Thank you, Citizen Morgan."

(_Citizen Edgar Nief, age 107, occupation retired officer. A tall, stooped man with cane, icy blue eyes undimmed by age._)

"A little louder, please. What was that question again?"

"About the armed forces. Specifically I asked--"

"I remember now. Yes, young man, I was a colonel in the Twenty-first North American s.p.a.ceborne Commando, which was a regular unit of the Earth Defense Corps."

"And did you retire from the service?"

"No, the service retired from me."

"I beg pardon, sir?"

"You heard me correctly, young man. It happened just sixty-three years ago. The Earth Armed Forces were demobilized, except for the police whom I cannot count. But all regular units were demobilized."

"Why was that done, sir?"

"There wasn't anyone to fight. Wasn't even anyone to guard against, or so I was told. d.a.m.ned foolish business, I say."

"Why, sir?"

"Because an old soldier knows that you can never tell when an enemy might spring up. It could happen now. And then where would we be?"

"Couldn't the armies be formed again?"

"Certainly. But the present generation has no concept of serving under arms. There are no leaders left, outside of a few useless old fools like me. It would take years for an effective force, effectively led, to be formed."

"And in the meantime, Earth is completely open to invasion from the outside?"

"Yes, except for the police units. And I seriously doubt their reliability under fire."

"Could you tell me about the police?"