Heart pounding with anticipation, Flett Grayle left his condominium and clambered into his modest glistercraft. Engaging the jet-chamber, he rose into the air, his seat vibrating and the red lights of the glisters blazing. He pulled out of the garage and joined the slow-moving stream of traffic on Citizen Boulevard.

The Free Glades was only one district away; it wouldn't take too long for Flett to reach the recruiters' offices…assuming he was able to ditch the rush-hour gridlock. Abandoning Citizen Boulevard as soon as possible, Flett took a series of backstreets, passing by apartments, lines of houses, and the occasional mansion of a government official. Soon, he was crossing over the river that divided the residential neighborhoods of Ambristown from the tall, boxy skyscrapers of the Free Glades.

Flett parked his glistercraft and strode towards an imposing black building that towered over its neighbors. Large gold lettering above the main entrance read: "GREAT GLADE MILITARY HEADQUARTERS". People in uniform were streaming in and out of the front doors, many of them around Flett's age. Most of them were fourthlings, although he saw plenty of goblins and trogs as well.

He ascended the stone steps and passed through the doors to find himself in a long, cavernous hall with a white marble floor, lined with desks and filled with soldiers. On one side of the room was a huge line of elevators. There were a hundred of them in all, each grouped into blocks of ten, each block denoted with a large silver number hanging above it.

Flett strode to the nearest counter, where a shifty-looking mobgnome was examining a stack of scrolls.

"Pardon me?" he said nervously. Now that the moment was actually here, he felt nervous and a bit sheepish. But he kept assuring himself that everything would be fine. This was what the government expected of him. He would, in fact, be rewarded for taking initiative himself…he just knew it.

The mobgnome glanced up at him, and a sly grin spread across his face. "Prospective recruit, eh?"

"Well…yes. Yes, that's why I'm here," said Flett, his face growing hot all of a sudden.

"Name?"

"Flett Grayle."

"Age?"

"Fourteen."

"District?"

"Ambristown."

The mobgnome raised his eyebrows in interest. "Ambristown?" he said.

Flett nodded.

"Quite the wealthy district, Ambristown," said the mobgnome. He narrowed his eyes. "You're not saying that just to try to impress us, are you?" he demanded suspiciously. "We get that sometimes, you know. Commander Hargreeve Spifbart doesn't take kindly to identity fraud…"

"No, no," said Flett hastily. "I'm really from Ambristown."

"We can check that," the mobgnome plowed on mercilessly. "If you're from Ambristown, you're sure to be a property owner. We'll have a tab on you and an inventory of your possessions."

"Yes," Flett replied uneasily. "I'm sure you would." He was not being entirely truthful. He had not had any idea that the government so aggressively kept records of more affluent citizens. But if checking them would allay the mobgnome's suspicion, it was fine with him.

The mobgnome turned and disappeared through a door behind the desk. Flett wasn't sure what to do, but, not having been given orders otherwise, he waited patiently for the clerk to return.

A few minutes later, the mobgnome came back, clutching a scroll. "Your claims seem sound," he said. Then, he ripped the scroll in half, then again, then again, and threw the scraps into a basket near the door.

"What…what was that?" said Flett, uneasily.

"You are a property owner no longer," said the mobgnome crisply. "In offering your services to the government, you also forfeit your home and your belongings to the state."

"What?" cried Flett incredulously. "But…but…"

"You will have no need for them anymore," the mobgnome continued. "You are agreeing to a thirty-year tour of duty. When your service is over, you may once more acquire property."

"Do I get my current property back?"

The mobgnome laughed. "You have no current property."

When Flett was to look back on this moment in years to come, he would remember it as the point when his grave doubts about the Empire sprung forth into full being. But the truth was that he felt only a small pang of indignation and suspicion about the government, quickly silenced by rationalizations coming as thick and fast as his mind could churn them out. A true patriot would be honored to give up his property in the name of the Glorious Leader, he told himself. He couldn't deny his duty to the state.

The mobgnome clicked his fingers, and a pair of soldiers appeared beside Flett. "Get him into uniform," said the clerk. "Be quick about it, and he should be ready in time to join the New Undertown patrol…"