Not satisfied with a bachelor's degree in political science, Alan went on to win a doctorate in record time.
Then… a blank. No jobs, no schooling-
Leif blinked. Wait a minute. That wasn't exactly a surprise. Alan would have been only about seventeen. He wouldn't be going to school anymore, and what sort of job would a seventeen-year-old expect to win? Most kids would be slinging hamburgers or ice cream at that age.
The next hit came from legal records-a will from Alan's parents being probated. Leif dug back. That looked okay-a car accident. Alan wound up with a house and a little money. A couple of years later there he was selling the house, moving to Washington, and setting himself up.
Not exactly a surprise for a job-seeking poli sci wonk to come to the nation's capital. If you want to play politics, this was the biggest arena available.
But it didn't explain how an apparent genius with a background in political science wound up as little more than a maintenance man.
Alan hadn't killed anybody, at least according to police records. In fact, he hadn't even been caught spitting on the sidewalk. So why wasn't he working in his field? Politicians always needed aides-the brighter, the better. Somebody had to write speeches, do the research on bills and issues, not to mention all the grunt-work involved in getting someone elected, installed, and working in high office.
Through his father, Leif knew of several likable pols who were probably more cunning than smart-kept afloat by the staff people they'd assembled around them.
Why would a supposedly nice guy like Alan Slaney not fit in? Leif called up his searchbots and gave orders for them to search harder. Ah. Here were mentions of a couple of internships-which quickly went nowhere.
Was Alan the lone-genius type, not able to fit in with a team? The guys he'd briefly worked for were pretty much on opposing ends of the political spectrum.
What were Alan's own political views?
Maybe the easiest way to find out was to take a look at his thesis. A quick order to the search program, and a copy of the archived thesis was immediately downloaded. Leif looked at the title: The Fin de Siecle-A Final Opportunity Lost.
So, Leif thought, Alan's fascination with that time period started pretty young. He began scanning through densely written pages of scholarly mumbo-jumbo.
The more he read, the wider his eyes got. Alan Slaney certainly had an… interesting point of view.
As seen by him, the Fin de Siecle was truly a golden age for the great Western powers. Human relations were enhanced by the traditions of social restraint.
Funny, Leif thought. Most people considered that era to be an age of prudery, hypocrisy, even oppression. If those traditions were so great, why were women out fighting so hard to get the vote?
Back to Alan… in international politics, self-control was also the watchword. These were the great days of the Concert of Europe, when nations could sit down and iron out differences around a conference table instead of a battlefield.
Except for Russia and Japan having that nasty little war, and America and Spain, not to mention most of the Western powers intervening in China for the Boxer Rebellion. And those were only the high points Leif remembered from history classes. A quick look at a history timeline and he tallied two more wars in the Balkans between 1912 and 1913, involving six different countries in various sides and combinations, which eventually led to World War I, as well as a number of smaller disturbances all over the globe.
But the most worrisome part of Alan's version of the turn of the century fairyland was what he called "a clearly defined social compact." Leif translated that as certain people knowing their place and staying in it.
He shook his head, suddenly reminded of how unwelcome David had been made to feel in Latvinia.
I expected to find that Slaney had a skeleton in his closet, he thought. Instead, there seems to be a burning cross!
Chapter 15
For a long time Leif continued to sit in the living room of his virtual work space, trying to decide what he ought to do. What he'd discovered wasn't exactly illegal. It was very distasteful, though. Would Megan appreciate learning that her wonderful pal Alan Slaney had feet of clay-and dirty clay, at that?
No, Leif told himself. If I go to Megan with this, it will just look like sour grapes on my part. She already thinks I bailed from Latvinia because I couldn't hack it there.
On the other hand, he couldn't keep this new information to himself.
In the end he decided to discuss it with someone whose opinion he respected-someone who would be personally interested in his discoveries, as well.
David Gray looked surprised when Leif called him.
His image floated in the display of the virtual computer console in the virtual living room.
Obviously, David recognized the background from Leif's image. "I see you're in your fortress of solitude. What's up?"
"It has to do with our little walk through Herzen. I was wrong, and you were right. I've come across a couple of things about Alan Slaney, and I need to discuss them with someone who has a cool head. Can you synch in for a while? I warn you, it may take some time."
David grinned. "I think I can fit you into my busy schedule. Give me a couple of minutes."
Soon enough, he appeared in Leif's workspace. "What dark secrets have you uncovered?"
"It all started when I encountered this picture in a presentation on old-time fencing," Leif began. From the picture of Louis Rondelle, he went on to explain how he'd identified a number of other members of Gray Piotr's inner circle. "All this seemed like a surprise-"
"Coming from Prince Charming," David finished. "Knowing you, I expect you've already gotten the low- down on our oh-so-nice friend."
"I've barely scratched the surface," Leif said, "but already I've turned up some stuff I don't like very much." He explained about Alan's accelerated academic career. "You've got to read his doctoral thesis to believe it," he ended.
David looked surprised. "Why isn't he using the thesis to get a job?"
"I think you'll be more interested in the content of his paper than Alan's employment or lack thereof," Leif said. "It explains a lot about his sim. You should read it."
"Okay," David said, his face showing no expression. "Maybe I should."
Leif sat and fidgeted while David went through the holotext version of the downloaded manuscript. The process took even longer than he'd expected. Where Leif had only skimmed, David was actually wading through large sections of Alan Slaney's scholarly prose.
It took all of Leif's patience not to start reading over his friend's shoulder, pointing out what he considered to be the relevant parts of the thesis.
Finally David turned away from the glittering text display. "Very.. interesting," he said.
"Interesting?" Leif echoed. "I think appalling is the more appropriate description. How can you, of all people, be so calm after reading what that-that jerk had to say?"
"Well, he's not just a racist," David replied. "I'd say he was more of an equal-opportunity reactionary. He's not a fascist, either. I expect the proper label would be to call him a classical conservative."
"What's the difference?" Leif wanted to know.
"Alan's kind of conservatism is the nineteenth-century kind-the sort that wanted to keep things as they were back then in the old days. World politics was a sort of 'rich white guys who picked their parents well' club." David's smile turned wry. "To those guys, today's so- called conservatives would seem like rabble-rousing radicals-"
"But that's what they are," Leif said.
David continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Who are in favor of way too much democracy."
Leif closed his mouth with a snap.
David gestured back to the displayed text. "Once you get past his sugar-coated view of the Fin de Siecle, Sla- ney actually has a logical argument. He suggests that the turn of the century was the last chance for what he calls 'the better classes' to stem the currents that pushed Europe into World War I."