"But that's not fair!"

Whitlaw stopped, his hand full of coins. "Who said that? Take him out and execute him for sedition!"

"Wait a minute! Don't I get a fair trial?"

"You just had one. Now shut up. You've been executed." Whitlaw kept collecting. "Sorry, I want exact change. You don't have it? Don't worry about it. In your case, I'll levy a four-casey surcharge. Consider it a penalty for paying your taxes with paper money. Thank you. Thank you-fifty, seventy-five, a casey, thank you. All right, I've got forty-eight caseys here. This'll buy me a good lunch. Everybody be sure to bring another casey tomorrow. I'll be collecting taxes every day from now on."

We looked at each other nervously. Who was going to be first to complain? Wasn't this illegal-a teacher taking money from his class?

A tentative hand. "Uh, sir ... your majesty?"

"Yes?"

"Uh, can I ask a question?"

"Mm, depends on the question."

"Can we ask what you're going to do with our money?"

"It's not your money anymore. It's mine."

"But it was ours to start with-"

"-and now it's mine. I'm the government." He slid open his desk drawer and dropped the coins loudly into it. "Eh? Your hand is still up?"

"Well, it just seems to me-to all of us-"

"To all of you?" Whitlaw looked at us with raised eyebrows. "Is this an insurrection that I see before me? I guess I'd better hire an army." He stumped to the back of the room, pointing at the huskiest boys in the class. "You, you and, ah, yes, you too. And you. Come up front. You're now in the army." He opened the drawer and scooped up coins. "Here are two caseys for each of you. Now, don't let any of this rabble near the royal palace."

The four boys looked uncertain. Whitlaw shoved them into position between himself and the class. "Now then-you were saying?"

"Mr. Whitlaw!" Janice MacNeil, a tall black girl, stood up. "All right! You've made your point. Now give everybody back their money-" Janice was in student government.

Whitlaw peered between the shoulders of two of his tallest "soldiers." He grinned. "Uh uh," he said. "This game is being played for keeps. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

Janice didn't fluster. She said, "I'll go to a higher authority." Whitlaw was still grinning. "There aren't any. This class is autonomous. See that plaque on the wall? That's the charter of the Federal Education System. You've been in this classroom nearly every day for eighteen weeks, and I'll bet you still haven't read it, have you? Too bad-because that's the contract you agreed to when you entered this classroom. I have total authority over you."

"Well, of course, I understand that!" she snapped. "But I'm talking about the real world now. You have to give us back our money!"

"You don't understand." Whitlaw grinned at her. "This is the real world. Right here. And I don't have to. I am empowered by the federal government to do whatever is necessary to fulfill the course requirements. And that includes taxes-if I so deem it necessary."

She folded her arms. "Well, we don't have to cooperate."

Whitlaw shrugged. "Fine. I'll have you arrested."

"What? You'll send me to the principal's office?"

"No, I mean arrested, as in read you your rights and throw you in the slammer, the lockup, the hoosegow, durance vile, the Bastille, the Tombs, the Tower of London, Devil's Island and Alcatraz-do I make myself clear?"

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Look it up."

"But that's not fair!"

"So what? You already agreed to it, so what are you complaining about?" He tapped two of his troops. "Throw her out of here-and that other fellow too, the one we executed earlier. They're automatically flunked." Whitlaw's army didn't look happy about it, but they started down the aisle.

Janice looked genuinely scared, but she scooped up her books and clipboard and went.

"You'll wait next door until the period is over," Whitlaw said. "Anyone else want to question the authority of this government?"

No. Nobody else did.

"Good." Whitlaw sat down and put his feet up on his desk. "I'm flunking everyone who opens his mouth out of turn." He picked up a book and an apple, opened the book and started reading. Periodically, he would take a loud bite from his apple, audibly reminding us of his presence.

The army looked uncertain. "Should we sit down, sir?"

"Of course not. You're on duty."

The rest of us exchanged glances. What was the point of this? The fellow to whom Whitlaw had recommended joining the debate team leaned over and whispered to a friend, "He's daring us to try something."

"Well, you try. I don't want to get thrown out."

"But don't you see, if we all organize-"

Whitlaw stood up suddenly, glowering. "What's that? Sounds like subversion to me!" He stepped forward and grabbed the debater by his shirt, pulling him out of his seat. "I won't have that!" He dragged the boy out of the room.

In the brief moment that he was gone, there was bedlam. "The man's a loonie-"

"-This is crazy-"

"-Can't we do something?"

I stood up. "Listen! We outnumber him! We don't have to let him get away with this."

"Shut up, Jim! You're just gonna get us all in worse trouble!"

"Let him talk-"

"You got an idea, Jim?"

"Well, no ... but . . ."

Whitlaw came back in then, and I slid back into my seat fast enough to feel the heat.

Whitlaw turned to his troops. "What kind of army are you? I leave the room for less than a minute, and I come back to find rabble-rousers preaching sedition in the aisles! I want you to arrest and expel every one who complained-or you'll get thrown out too!"

There were five of us.

"Is that all?" Whitlaw bellowed. "If you missed anyone, I'll have your heads!"

The army looked scared. After a moment's whispered conference, they picked three more people and all eight of us trooped out.

"But I didn't even say anything!" Joey Hubre looked close to tears. "Tell him!" he appealed to his twin.

"You do," shouted Whitlaw, "and you go too. In fact, you'd better go anyway-you're probably both trouble!"

There were twelve of us in the next-door classroom. We sat glumly looking at each other. Confused, puzzled and very hurt. We could hear Whitlaw bellowing. And then, abruptly, there was silence. A moment after that, three more exiles joined us. "What'd he do? Execute the class?"

"Naw-he declared a national silence," said Paul Jastrow. "That's why he threw us out. I passed a note. He said I was publishing treason."

"What's he trying to prove?" complained Janice.

"Tyranny, I guess. That's what started this, remember?"

"Well, what are we supposed to do about it?"

"Isn't it obvious? We're supposed to rebel!"

"Oh, sure! We can't even open our mouths to complain! How are we going to organize?"

"We can organize," I said. "In here. We'll form an army of liberation. The other class members will support us."

"You sure of that? He's got them so terrified they're pissing in their pants."

"Well, we've got to try," said Hank Chelsea, standing up. "I'm for it."

"Count me out," said Jastrow.

I stood up. "I think it's the only way."

Janice stood up. "I-I don't like this, but I'll go along with it because we've got to show him he can't do this to us."

Two of the other boys stood up, and one of the girls. "Come on, John. Joey?"

"Uh uh. I don't want to get yelled at anymore."

"Aren't you angry?"

"I just want my money back."

"Paul?"

"He'll just throw us out again."

"Wait a minute, Jim." That was Mariette. "Just what is it you want us to do anyway? What's your plan?"

"We go in there and declare the dictatorship over."

"Oh, sure, and then he yells at us some more and his army throws us out again. He's hired two more thugs."