“Shangri-La?” Ronny said. “That's a new one.”
There was an affectionate gleam in the captain's eye. “Yes,” he said. “If and when I retire, I think that'd be the planet of my choice, if I could get permission to leave Earth, of course.”
Ronny scowled in attempted memory. “Now that you mention it, I think I did see it listed the other day among planets with a theocratic government.”
The captain grunted protest. “If you're comparing it to this New Delos you're going to, you're wrong. There can be theocracy and theocracy, I suppose. Actually, I imagine Shangri-La has the most, well gentle government in the system.”
Ronny was interested. His recent studies hadn't led him to much respect for a priesthood in political power. “What's the particular feature that's seemed to have gained your regard?”
“Moderation,” Woiski chuckled. “They carry it almost to the point of immoderation. But not quite. Briefly, it works something like this. They have a limited number of monks—I suppose you'd call them—who spend their time at whatever moves them. At the arts, at scientific research, at religious contemplation—any religion will do—as students of anything and everything, and at the governing of Shangri-La. They make a point of enjoying the luxuries in moderation and aren't a severe drain on the rank and file citizens of the planet.”
Ronny said, “I have a growing distrust of hierarchies. Who decides who is to become a monk and who remain a member of the rank and file?”
The captain said, “A series of the best tests they can devise to determine a person's intelligence and aptitudes. From earliest youth, the whole populace is checked and rechecked. At the age of thirty, when it is considered that a person has become [pg 034] adult and has finished his basic education, a limited number are offered monkhood. Not all want it.”
Ronny thought about it. “Why not? What are the shortcomings?”
The captain shrugged. “Responsibility, I suppose.”