Palacios was, moreover, an ambitious man. He wanted to get into politics but, unable to enter that world directly, he took the academic post he was offered as a springboard to leap off when the time seemed right. But before that, it was to his advantage to try to distinguish himself in some way, to set himself apart from his predecessors, a grey cortege of civil servants who limited themselves to keeping the school from closing down, but without worrying about making any improvements in it.

Dr. Palacios had already accumulated some enemies and provoked a lot of misgivings with his zeal for innovation. His first one was to review the textbooks used by the school and judge them anachronistic; he ordered them replaced with more current works which were accepted in the Republic’s other educational establishments.

This change, and the attendant effort it required for the teachers to understand their subjects from different points of view and explain them with formulas other than the ones they had used for decades, naturally gave rise to some discontent. The director let the professors fume and grumble until their scant energy was absorbed by the new pedagogical methods and they abandoned their protests as useless.

The initial commotion caused by the new textbooks hadn’t yet died down when Palacios, a former student of the Instituto who was well versed in the habits of each of the men under him, took further measures. The absentee professor now found himself forced to give irrefutable proof of his attendance; the one who trafficked in passing grades had a committee assigned to review and justify his evaluations; and the one who wasted time in lengthy anecdotes that had nothing to do with the syllabus had to begin sticking to it because he knew he was being watched.

There was nothing for the teachers to do but applaud Dr. Palacios’ attitude, since that way they appeared not to deserve it. But when an upstart arrived in their feudal domain (because that was what they considered the Instituto after so many years of being its only and irreplaceable usurpers), they trembled. Ulloa represented an element they had never expected to have to deal with: the competent competitor.