Pre-Authorization

It was an oddly cold day. Lorcan and his uncle Farsten walked down the street. He was glad to get out of the house, glad that clan headquarters was an hour’s walk away. He and his uncle had been cooped up in his father’s office for a day and a half working on his proposal and so Lorcan had jumped at the chance when his uncle had proposed they get pre-authorization for his desired army speciality.

So the cold wind blowing in off the ocean didn’t bother him. And now that they were off their own street he wasn’t embrassed either. Everyone on their street knew what he was working on, and had shouted some crude comments as they walked, but here, in the city proper no one knew why he was on this walk with his uncle, or even that he was his uncle. Walking together they looked like pretty much any other people abroad on business. He could be an apprentice in his uncle’s shop.

He liked to walk in the new city, pretty much anywhere, but he particularly loved business districts. The buildings were all at least three stories, all mostly the same slate grey, with strong doors below, strong windows above, but not as strongly built as houses were… no families to protect. A hopper wave here would be forced to work through armed men firing down stone corridors even if they did get in. He couldn’t remember the last time a hopper had killed anyone in the heart of the new city.

“Here it is,” his uncle said, breaking his reverie.

Lorcan looked. It was a building like so many others they had passed, stone faced, five stories tall, and a smattering of people coming in and out of it. The only difference he saw was the Crencha beast emblem, the emblem of their clan, beside the main door.

He followed his uncle in, looking freely about. If had been an apprentice he would have been expected to be looking about, learning where everything was. And he didn’t see how it could be embarrassing to do so now.

“Excuse me,” his uncle said to the clerk at the desk in the lobby, “We’re looking for the army liaison.”

“Second floor back office,” the clerk said. “Going out for the army, lad?” he asked, looking at Lorcan.

“Yes,” Lorcan said, “Working for an exchange.”

“Good for thee,” the clerk said. “Onward the clan.”

“Onward the clan,” Lorcan echoed, and then followed his uncle up the stairs.

The door marked ‘Army Liaison’ was open, and all that was in the room was an older man in an army uniform sitting behind a desk, a table really, with a few papers scattered over it.

“Good morning,” the older man said, coming forward, gripping their wrists, and waving them to chairs. “How can I help you?”

“We’re writing an exchange and a proposal,” his uncle said, “And wish to get pre-authorization.”

“Ah, wise. Much more likely to get a good exchange that way. I hear some lasses put the specialty right down in the proposal. I hear that first drop can bring a good match…?” He asked, looking at Lorcan. “What specialty doest thou want? A few tests and we can see if thou wilt qualify.”

“I want to go for Far Colonist,” Lorcan said, and the man sat back, stunned.

“I can tell thee without moving a step that thou wilt be accepted for that!” He said. “We take scum of the earth for that. Had one in just this morning, brought from the prisons. Won’t even sully my mouth telling you what he did, but he got shipped off the same hour.”

There was a pause, then, “Art thou sure, lad? Tis a very lonely life.”

“I like research,” Lorcan said. “I read through all of the specialities and it seems to fit the most in a couple of ways. I haven’t done any farming, but I really like the idea of seeing how various plants work out on a brand new planet.”

The man shook his head slowly, “Never did think of it like that myself, but that makes some sense. Assuming thou survive. Which, come to think of it, married men tend to do. Forward colonist has a high death rate, almost the highest, but that is mostly unmarried men. No one to watch their backs, get caught out by the hoppers…”

“Anyway, I’ll have you a pre-authorization written out in an instant. Have forms already mostly done, just have to fill in the name and the specialty. Then you’ll go downstairs and get it sealed up all right and proper.”

The man pulled out some papers and Lorcan let his eyes wander to the walls, which were full of charts and graphs, and even star maps. His eyes were drawn to one, entitled, “Financial opportunities in the Armed Services.”

The man was still busy so Lorcan got quietly up and looked at it.

Top Paying Army Specialties

Scout: Estimated total Earnings/20 year term: 200,000

Earned by: Divide 10% of all land sold profits (Estimated time on planet, three months)

Creeper: Divide 10% of all land sold profits (Estimated time on planet, four months)

Forward Colonist: 0% interest in land sold, Variable profit from land developed (Estimated time on planet, two years)

Forward Sentry: Divide 30% of all land sold profits (Estimated time on planet, three years)

Engineer: Divide 20% of all land sold profits (Estimated time on planet, seven years three months)

“I’ve walked many a lad through that chart,” the man said, startling Lorcan. “I always skip right over Forward Colonist. Practically all prisoners. It’s been right there in front of my nose the whole time, though.

Think on it, lad. Most people that join the army why, they have to provide food and housing for their family. But those specialities, including yours, get given that free! A tremendous start to making your fortune.”

Lorcan nodded nervously and went and sat back down.

—

After they got the document sealed, and were back in the street, Lorcan turned to his uncle. “Uncle, wasn’t that man an army officer?”

“Aye, all but retired, quiet office job.”

“Why was he using street language with us? Aren’t officers at least shop class?”

“Ah, yes, lad. But the army uses street language for the most part. They won’t insist on it, only shop class tend to do much insisting for language use, but it is the regular thing. Everyone in the army, most of the time. The navy tends toward street class for the men and crystal class for the officers, or the upper ones. Not as much use of shop language in the navy, at least, well, those dealing with goods tend more toward that.”

He looked at Lorcan, “Are you willing to marry a street class wife? It’s a common thing if you go for the army. Some of the best street class lasses go for the exchange, better their families.”

“I’ve been thinking about it and I think I need to leave myself as open as possible in that area.”

His uncle shook his head, “You’re an odd lad. Most lads at this point are still talking about what measurements they want in a lass. You’ll do the family proud, lad, I’ve no doubt of that.”

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