The local offices of the Imperial Bureau of Evaluation were housed in a towering structure in the city of Brazos, the largest building Micah Carter had ever seen. He was sure that the principal offices in Northern Capital, on the far side of the world in the Middle Kingdom, were larger and grander still, but he knew now that he would never see them.

All candidates who sought to serve the imperial bureaucracy in the southwestern Commonwealth of Vinland came here to the capital of the state of Tejas to take their examinations. Those who passed the xiucai-level exams, becoming “flourishing talents,” could be assured of posts in the bureaucracy somewhere in the neighboring regions, perhaps as far afield as Kentuck or Tennessee. Those who went on to pass the juren-level exams, becoming “elevated persons,” might even find posts across the continent in Khalifa, or across the sea in Britain, France, or Deutschland, perhaps even as far as Rossiya or Arabia. And those lucky few who passed the jinshi-level exams would journey to the Middle Kingdom itself, to Northern Capital, seat of imperial power, to be presented to the emperor himself, honored by a personal audience before the Dragon Throne—personal, at least, not considering the hundreds of other “presented scholars” who would be standing at his side in the ceremony.

Micah would never stand before the Dragon Throne, never journey to Britain or Rossiya, would likely never even get as far as Kentuck or Tennessee. He had failed his xiucai-level examination for the third and last time, and would not be given another chance.

Micah would never be going anywhere, that much was clear. His only option was to return to Duncan in northern Tejas, there to live with his parents and work on the neighbor’s farm, driving the tractor just like he had done every summer since he was a boy. It was like some ironic punishment for the sins of his forefathers, being forced to work land that had once belonged to his family, never allowed to roam.

The Carters had always been farmers, back since this land had been an independent state, however briefly, before it had joined the Commonwealth of Vinland. They had always owned the land they worked, up until the time of Micah’s grandfather, for whose sins Micah was sure he was now paying. The elder Carter had been a man of large dreams and larger ambitions, and had sunk everything he had into one failed money-making scheme after another, until finally the family lands had to be sold in lots to pay off his mounting debts. For as long as Micah could remember, his life had been shadowed by the steel skeleton of a building that hulked on the edge of the small plot of remaining family land, all that remained of his grandfather’s dream, left incomplete when the money ran out. That steel structure had been a constant reminder of what came of those who let dreams blind them to reality. Micah’s father had been raised to help his father run the family business, and when the farm had been broken up and sold off, he’d instead found work as a teacher, putting his ability to read and speak fluent English and Official Speech to work, and instructed the children of Duncan in language, literature, and history. Micah’s mother was a Duncan, one of those who gave the township its name, and had been another teacher at the school, instructing the local children in math and accounts. Not a few wags said that if the elder Carter’d had his future daughter-in-law looking after his affairs, he’d never have been forced to sell off lands that had been in the Carter family since white men had first come to this part of the world.

Micah, first born of three children, had not taken after either of his parents. He could speak perfect English and Official Speech alike, but had no talent for reading, the very letters of the words seeming to dance and jitter on the page when he tried to read them. Still, he’d wanted nothing more than to leave Duncan, and get away from the shadow of the steel structure that he always saw not as a skeleton, but as a cage. The township of Duncan was too small a world for him, and Micah was sure that his best chance of escape lay in seeking a post in the imperial bureaucracy. But those posts required imperial examinations, held regularly in the state capital.

He’d studied until it felt that his brain would explode, and his eyes run like jelly from their sockets. But the letters refused to stay still on the page, and in the end he’d been forced to enlist the aid of his sisters. They would read to him aloud from the Four Books, and from the Five Classics, and the Canon of Filial Piety. And though he could read no better than the youngest student in his father’s class, Micah had an amazing gift for recall, and could memorize anything he heard spoken and recite it back flawlessly. When he felt that he couldn’t possibly fit any more knowledge into his head, he’d made the journey south to Brazos, his heart in his throat.

But while he could practically recite the texts of the source materials in their entirety, the examination itself was in written form, the candidate required to attempt three questions on the Four Books and four on any of the Five Classics, framing his answers in the standard eight-legged form. And though his brain was filled to bursting with the information it needed, Micah was hard pressed to parse out the characters of the questions themselves, much less frame his responses in anything like legible script.

And so, despite all that he had learned, even after repeated attempts Micah had still failed to pass even the lowest level of examination. An ignorant child would have fared as well, if not better, he was sure.

Insult compounded injury this last spring when the steel structure was broken up and donated as scrap to the state, sent to be melted down and used in the construction of new warships at the orbital shipyards beyond Diamond Summit, at the top of the Bridge of Heaven. The unfinished building which Micah’s fancy had made a cage was being sent off to war, to see a new world out in the black void of the heavens, while Micah was being left behind to till another family’s fields.

In front of the tower which housed the Bureau of Evaluation was a long reflecting pool, its waters sparkling as bright and blue as sapphires. When Micah climbed down the front steps for the third and last time, breathless as a climber descending a mountain, he scarcely noticed the man in the plain suit of green who stood behind the low table, at the pool’s edge. So when the man called to him, Micah started, caught unawares.

“How did you fare, friend?” The man’s voice rang as bright as a bell in the still morning air. “Do I see a life of service in the imperial bureaucracy before you?”

Micah scowled, and shook his head. “Not hardly,” he said, sullenly. “Three failures and there won’t be a fourth.”

The man took on a sympathetic expression, lips pursed. “And that’s a shame, friend. You look like a man with something to offer. With quite a lot to offer, in fact.”

Biting his lip, Micah managed a nod. His eyes stung, and he realized for the first time how close to crying he was. Then he noticed the neatly arranged stacks of brochures on the table behind which the man stood.

“Of course,” the man continued, “you should remember that there are other ways to serve the emperor, and those who may be looking for what you have to offer.”

Micah rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, arching an eyebrow. “What?”

“Tell me, friend,” the man said, coming around the table and taking Micah by the elbow, “have you ever considered the Green Standard Army?”

---

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: Hexagram 3
Birth Throes
Below Thunder Above Water
Clouds and Thunder. In the same way, the noble man weaves the fabric of government.


NEXT CHAPTER: Hexagram 5
Waiting
Below Heaven Above Water
Clouds rise up to Heaven. In the same way, the noble man takes this opportunity to enjoy himself in drinking and eating.

Return to Index.

Chapter 4 of Three Unbroken by Chris Roberson. Copyright © 2007 Monkeybrain, Inc. For more action from the Celestial Empire don't miss The Dragon's Nine Sons.

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