In the bottom bunk of a bunk bed, there sleeps a grey. (In the top bunk of same there also sleeps a grey but the bottom one is more immediately relevant.)
"Well, I couldn't be a therapist anyway, same reason I can't be a teacher. I do statistical analysis of arcball, mostly."
"You couldn't be a therapist," he tries out loud, carefully. "You can't be a teacher. Reason you can't be a therapist, teacher?"
"I'm grey." She touches her hair. "My mom is orange, but this is a patrilineal country so I'm grey like my dad."
"If I'd been born with orange hair I'd still be grey and I'd have to - well, not strictly have to, just it'd avoid misunderstandings - dye it."
"Our castes are hair color coded. What caste we are determines what jobs we're allowed to have."
"You aren't allowed to make more than one sixth of your total income from things that aren't for your caste."
"...uh, you could probably get them to liberalize it some, but it would be really hard to suddenly stop altogether and they'll probably not want to."
"A lot of people like it. It works unusually badly for me. And a lot of stuff is built on top of it. There's one casteless country in the world but they're very weird and started from scratch a few years ago."
"I don't know how they'd caste magic. Probably depends what it's being used to do."
"Cops and soldiers and athletes and dancers. I categorize my thing as 'bookie', we have that one too."