 Why can't Lane read or write?
MUTINEER By ROBERT J. SHEA Raging , Trooper Lane hovered three thousand feet above Tammany Square. The cool cybrain surgically implanted in him was working on the problem. Did I fight in Chi for them? Just a little time off, so I shouldn't blow my top. The black dog was on Lane's back. The humming paragrav-paks embedded beneath his shoulder blades held him motionless above Newyork's three administrative towers. They keep Troopers in the Armory and teach them how to fight. They don't teach them about their own city, that they'll be fighting for. From seven years old up, Troopers have too much to learn about fighting. Old cybrain, a gift from the Trooper surgeons, compliments of the city, would have to figure out which one. Two black paragrav-boats whirred along the translucent underside of Newyork's anti-missile force-shield, the Shell. Lane somersaulted. Cybrain had taken charge of his motor nerves. Lane's own mind was just along for the ride. He began to plummet down, picking up speed. A predatory excitement rippled through him as he sailed down through the air. A little red-white-and-green flag fluttered on a staff below the window. Cybrain knew what it was doing. Lane dropped lightly to the floor, inside the room, in battle-crouch. "Lashing police with his vibray," said the announcer, "Lane broke through the cordon surrounding Manhattan Armory. Two policemen were killed, four others seriously injured. Tammany Hall has warned that this man is extremely dangerous. Citizens are cautioned to keep clear of him. Lane is an insane killer. A built-in electronic brain controls his reflexes—" "At ease with that jazz," said Lane, and a sheathed finger snapped out. The two police boats were hovering above the towers. Lane's mailed hand snapped open a pouch at his belt. The force-bomb "exploded"—swelled or inflated, really, but with the speed of a blast. It shaded the view from his window and re-entered the tower wall just below. "Trooper Lane, of the Newyork Special Troops, is all." Orange or green is the action. Built, Lane saw. This is an embassy, if you know what that means." If you've never heard of diplomatic immunity, you'll suffer for your ignorance." "No. "Force-screen. Nothing gets past, except maybe a full-size blaster-beam. "I told you, I'm an ambassador.
 Lane has only been schooled in soldiering since he was seven. He was taught to fight, nothing else.
 When the cybrain was installed, Lane's own brain was wiped clean.  Lane is dyslexic. He got frustrated trying to learn and gave up.  Teaching the soldiers how to read and write would only lead to rational thinking. The soldiers might start to question orders. Therefore, they are only taught fighting.  Lane has only been schooled in soldiering since he was seven. He was taught to fight, nothing else.