George was confused and becoming unsettled.  He needed to speak with his stewards to get the proper story- certainly they would tell him the truth.

It was like the time when he had found out he had been conceived as the result of a sperm auction and he had also received the name of “George” only after his stewards had been given special permission from the state to do so as it was not a name on the Approved and Proper Designators list.  It was fortunate for him, at both pre-conception and post-birth, that his stewards had sufficient means and access as afforded by their own beginnings and, as he learned as well, an outcome of their own sperm auctions, the selections of their own stewards.

George was a good boy by most historical standards.  By more recent assessments, however, he was beginning to fall under suspicion, especially by the School Triumvirate.

“I reviewed all the materials and then did even more” he said as he continued his inquiry.  “I knew all of the questions and am sure that I did much better than the grade that I was provided by the Grading Commission.  I know I did better.  I just know it!”

“How can you know for sure?” his female steward asked.

“Well,” George stuttered slightly, swallowing hard as he did, “I accidentally saw the raw scores- but just for a second and I tried to look away before I saw mine and I well, I…”

“Stop now young one!” she exclaimed.  “You know that is not allowed, you should not have looked and you should not have told anyone, not even me.”

“But I was always taught to be honest.”

“Only when required” she quickly countered.  To George this was an interesting and new qualification of a Fundamental Teaching.

“But I got everything right!  The scores, my score- I saw it!  It was a perfect 100 percent!” George cried out, his eyes beginning to dampen.

“Quiet George!” his male steward demanded, albeit in a hushed voice.  “A Patrol Associate might overhear you!”

“It isn’t fair” George said in quieter tones but still simmering and near a boiling point.

“It is exactly fair young one.  It is fair for all and not just one.  You know the teachings and you should know the methods- these have been taught to you” the female steward chimed in.

“Please tell me again because it just doesn’t make sense” George asked in a more subdued voice.  His manners, though not required, were sometimes refreshing to those old enough to remember the early times.

“Yes, I think I must.  It is fair that everyone should start at the same point and that is at 60 percent- fair for all and not just one.  No one is a failure-“

“But I studied and I worked hard and I got 100!” George interjected, animated once again.

“George- er, young one- you must listen and you must understand and you must not call out your score again” the male steward added in to the instructive.

“Young one” the female continued “you know that beyond 60 all additional points go justifiably to the Community Pool and are then equally distributed among all of the Community test-takers.  So the better each individual does the better everyone does.  It is so elegant and beautiful and it is how we live in all aspects of our lives, you know this, you have been so informed and instructed.”

“It’s not fair, it’s not right!” George actually screamed.  “I studied and got 100 and a lot of the others did nothing!  They probably didn’t even do enough to get to the minimum 60.  That was because of me and the few others who do the work, who spend all of the time because we want to do well, we want to do well all by ourselves and without the help of the others!  If they need help with their preparation I would be willing to assist them to prepare but why, why do they get to take away the points that I have earned and claim them for their own??”

“Son, George- er, young one” the female steward attempted excitedly “you must stop this, this unsanctioned behavior.  We have already been pre-warned by the Triumvirate and they have suggested that we have you placed in the Community Adjustment Program at the State Proper School.  We do not wish for you to leave us before the normal age.  Please gain control of yourself” she concluded, an unwanted tear forming in just one eye.

“I cannot, I WILL NOT!” young George cried out in desperation.  “It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair for me!  It isn’t right that the Magistrate’s ward does not even study and he mocks those of us who do- he calls us names and laughs openly at us!  His future is set no matter how little he knows and no matter how poorly he does!  It isn’t fair for me!  It isn’t fair to the others who try, who study, who work so hard!  And if it isn’t fair for even one, like me, then it isn’t fair for all!”

“Exactly the point” his male steward said calmly now.  “And you see that if one, if just a single one, protests against the fairness then fairness cannot be had for all.  And that is why it is strictly enforced and simply not allowed.  It is only fair.  We must address this before we are also implicated” he finished, a bit upset for the apparent failure of him and his female.

The female looked with a fleeting touch of sympathy and a heavy dose of disappointment at George and then with seriousness at her male.  “I will go and make the call” she said as she stood, slowly.

George looked at each of his stewards in shocked disbelief and then around the room, suddenly understanding that he would likely not see these things perhaps ever again.  He had crossed the line and there was no going back, no taking back of the very words that had now betrayed him.   The responsibility of his stewards was clear and he did not wish harm to them.  He looked at the floor and sighed with resignation and deep sadness, knowing now that, like the Magistrate’s ward, his future was indeed set.