 What does the reader learn from Lane's inability to identify a flag he sees flying outside a tower?
Raging , Trooper Lane hovered three thousand feet above Tammany Square. The cool cybrain surgically implanted in him was working on the problem. The humming paragrav-paks embedded beneath his shoulder blades held him motionless above Newyork's three administrative towers. 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. 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. 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. A section of the energy globe bellied out from above. It shaded the view from his window and re-entered the tower wall just below. Orange or green is the action. This is an embassy, if you know what that means." "Well, you should have had brains enough to honor the flag outside this window. 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. From Mars. Sure, I've heard of it—you gotta go by spaceship. Look, Lane, holding me is no good. He takes orders from Newyork." Gerri Kin said, "That's what the force-domes did. But also the road to the return to city-states. Anarchy."
 That he is not well-informed on general politics
 That he is colorblind  That he wants to abstain from political conversations  That he knows his city's flag but not those of other American cities  That he is not well-informed on general politics