cGiradoux

(cont. from part2)

Nothing had happened for a long time. Then, finally, her manager came out, cleared the way, and she left the hall without even looking at any of the boys. But, to his surprise, she returned with the messenger, who pointed him out to her. She came directly towards him, took his hand and thanked him for the lovely poem. He had been bursting with joy and blushing with embarrassment. Then, just to say something, anything at all, he invited her to dinner. Of course he didn't expect her to accept, and therefore didn't worry that he didn't have a cent in his pocket. But she accepted, and taken him to the best restaurant in the city. J had a terrible time throughout the meal, horrified in anticipation of the moment when the waiter would present the bill. He wasn't able to carry on a conversation because of his fright, he didn't enjoy a bite of what he ate, he wasn't even able to look at her, in anticipation of the moment when he would be so embarrassed that he wouldn't ever be able to look at her again.

But, after the meal, the head-waiter told him that there was no charge, that it was on the house in honour of the great star.

It wasn't until much later that J found out that his future wife had in fact paid for the dinner. She instructed the waiter to tell him the lie to avoid embarrassment. She had seen in his face that he was without money.

Many days later he received a short note from her, thanking him for a lovely time. He remembered well how he stormed into the common room, filled with pride, eager to show the card to his friends. Only, he found the bulletin-board filled with like cards, all addressed to different class-mates.

He had tried all manner of tricks to make contact with her, and finally his persistence paid off. He broke into the GOvernment General Headquarters (GGHQ) and programmed the computer to send her an order to present herself at the gates of the Social Values Centre (SVC) and to wait there for further instructions. He was young and foolish then, and not aware of the penalties for tampering with a GOvernment computer (GC).

She came, and, for the first time, he had the opportunity to be alone with her without feeling fearful and embarrassed. It had been his daring that had appealed to his future wife. The rest was easy. After the short legally required courtship and engagement periods, they married and had been happy together ever since.

Theirs was a model life. Never had they broken any of the Constitutional Codes (CCs). Never had there been the need for any GOvernment Reprimand (GOR), nor even a complaint about them from any GOvernment Department (GOD) – a record of which they were justifiably proud. Their credit rating was always A-1, they enjoyed relative wealth and were always well-respected by their fellow citizens. J's position had brought all that. Their natural harmony, his intelligence and position, his wife's great beauty and efficiency made them admired and envied by many.

They ate their biscuits quietly, deep in thought. J watched his wife clean the carpet when she spilled a few drops of coffee. As if it mattered now...

"Will you marry again?"

Her question stunned him. But he calmed himself. After all, the GOvernment knew what was best for the people. He had to obey, no matter what he thought about it.

Of course he denied any intention of ever re-marrying, and he meant it. Not after all this. No, he would never marry again. This was too much. But the GOvernment knew best...

It was quite reasonable, J argued with himself, for the GOvernment to select her. What could be more effective psychologically than to print a newspaper story about the elimination of the wife of the Head of the GOvernment Department for the Prevention of Overpopulation? If that wouldn't teach people, nothing on earth would.

"I suppose we might as well get it over with!"

How efficient she was even now. But the words hurt him, naturally. J knew she was right, right as always. There was no point in delaying it any longer, it had to be done, it was inevitable. It couldn't do anything but hurt them both to sit here in silence.

As she re-loaded the silvery pistol for him, J hoped for a second she might shoot him, or even shoot herself; anything would be better than the duty of eliminating one's own wife. But, of course, she didn't do either. She returned the pistol to him and sat down, waiting. For a moment J considered if it would not be better in this case to use an injection. But then, that would spoil exactly that psychological impact which made these eliminations worthwhile. He would have defeated the GOvernment's purpose, the intention of his own Department, and, in fact, he would have broken the law. Worst of all, if her death wasn't horrible, frightening, educating for the general population, it would be without value, she would have died for nothing. And that was certainly in nobody's interest.

Besides, if a high GOvernment official was willing to break the law, how could one expect working class people to respect it? No, he couldn't afford to create turmoil in society. If he did, he would be unworthy of being a citizen under the New Constitution (NC).

He checked the pistol. It was fully loaded and the safety catch was released.

"Good-bye, J." She smiled towards him, then she lowered her eyes to make it easier for him.

J couldn't reply. He couldn't even think. And he realised that thinking would be dangerous in such a situation. He might change his mind, and he could not allow himself to do that. He kissed her. It was not really a kiss, it was more a symbolic gesture, and all that it represented, and all it had stood for throughout the last ten years.

As he stepped back, J could hear her voice, even though she was silent. He could hear her laughter from days gone, he could see her moving through the house, he could smell all the perfumes she had ever worn.

She sat on the couch, her eyes closed now. But suddenly she got up and left the room - was she running away? J almost hoped so. But no, it couldn't be. Not her.

She returned almost immediately with a large sheet of plastic which she spread over the couch and the carpet so that her blood wouldn't do damage.

J looked at her. How beautiful she was. And with that, he pulled the trigger. Once, twice, he felt the sharp jolt of the recoil in his hand and wrist, then she collapsed. Even as she fell, he thought of her companionship, their conversations, and even her body, and how he would never be able to enjoy her physical intimacy again. But he banished these thoughts quickly. He couldn't allow himself these feelings of resentment towards the GOvernment and what it did for the people. He had a good education, he was supposed to be free of such destructive emotions.

The shots still rang in his ears when he dialled the number of the Central Information Agency (CIA). At first, the voice at the other end didn't believe him; two eliminations in one day in the same district could only be a joke. But after he identified himself to the reporter, and said, “The second subject was my own wife”, her doubts changed to sheer excitement at the size of this story.

J could see the pictures already in his mind, the blood of his wife spread throughout the house and through the country. Then, for the first time in his life, he felt overcome by weakness, and he collapsed into a chair. Here he sat until he was brought back to consciousness by the movements of busy reporters around him.

They didn't give him any time. As soon as he opened his eyes he was surrounded by microphones, flashing lights, and a flood of questions.

"Your colleague told us about the two eliminations today. What is your explanation for this? Do you know why? Is it really true that you are the Head of the DPO, and that this is your wife? How do you feel? What do you think about the death of your wife? Boy, what a story. That should get 'em when they hear about it tonight. Are you upset? Have you changed your opinion about your work in any way? What are your plans for the future? Will you stay with the GOvernment? Is it true that you are going to retire?"

The questions were fired at him with such speed that he had no time to consider his answers. But he knew that he would come out of this all right; he had finished his Social Values course with honours (Dip SV with Hons).

Finally, all the reporters had gone, leaving behind their empty gum wrappers, cigarette butts on the carpet, and the empty film boxes. The house was silent now, and empty. Very empty. J looked around the living room, at his wife, still in the same position she had occupied when she collapsed, and at the carpet which had not been saved by her precautions: the reporters had carelessly walked through her blood, their feet leaving outlines in brown stains.

J turned away. There was nothing left for him to do here. By the time he returned from work tonight, his wife would have been carried away and buried, the carpet would have been replaced, and the house cleaned of all signs of today's turmoil. This was common practice now as a service to the public. The work was performed by employees of the Department to lessen the personal grief as far as possible.

J joined Don in the car; Don, he thought, had shown a great deal of understanding and had truly been trying to help him. Maybe he had misunderstood his partner all these years...

There was a feeling in J which he couldn't understand, an emotion which was completely different from anything he had ever experienced. He thought his indoctrination courses had prepared him for every conceivable eventuality, but he had just come across something that was so different that it had not been covered by any learned theory. Something had gone wrong. Possibly, thought J, he should note down all the developments within himself. He might be able to use the information in designing a new section for the Social Values curriculum, to cover these strange feelings. He would be able to do the GOvernment a great service. And that was every citizen's purpose on earth, wasn't it?

But, while trying to analyse his feelings, J discovered his inability to define emotions; there had been no education in this field, because the GOvernment generally frowned upon all these time-wasting human weaknesses. He had only a few emotions stored in his memory; comparisons were difficult, if not impossible.

Why, he wondered, had the GOvernment overlooked this point in their training? Why had he not been prepared for what happened today? Could it be that the GOvernment was completely unaware of such emotions? No, it couldn't be. The GOvernment knew everything, all the world's knowledge was stored in their computers.

So, since the GOvernment was obviously aware of what he had experienced today, it must have been their intention to keep this knowledge from the public, even from the most educated.

The question was simply why. Why on earth should a GOvernment, concerned with what is best for the people, withhold this information? The only logical explanation was that certain emotions, feelings and thoughts beyond a pre-determined point had to be dangerous.

But dangerous in what way? Dangerous to one's own person? Hardly; that would not have warranted complete secrecy. So it must be dangerous for society. Or possibly a danger to the GOvernment?

The implications were enormous. He had stumbled upon something exceedingly threatening to society or the GOvernment. According to J's own logic, he was on his way to becoming a danger himself, a menace to society.

J stopped this train of thought. Obviously, if thought or feeling was so dangerous, the danger might be minimised by not thinking or feeling. Possibly the danger might pass like influenza or a headache, and he would recover from this bout of thinking before becoming a real risk to the well-being of the community.

Also, thought J, there would be time in the future to rethink the problem, to check his own logic, to find where he had gone wrong. He was certain to come up with the right answers, answers which would leave no questions about the reasons for the GOvernment's secrecy in this case. The important thing was not to think about it now, while he was so confused.

J was tired. He relaxed, stretched his legs, and concentrated on a fresh breeze against his face, as Don drove them back to their offices.

They parked their car in the underground garage of the New Federal GOvernment Building (NFGB), and took the elevator upstairs. There was something strange in the air, something indefinable, different. It was Don who recognised it first.

"Do you hear anything?"

J listened. There was nothing to be heard, no sound or noise whatsoever.

"Nothing at all," he answered.

"That's just it. It's so silent here. Something is wrong."

It was one of those strange feelings based on facts which escape one's recognition as such – a feeling like having a word on the tip of one's tongue and being unable to get it out, J mused. Then he realised what was wrong.

"By-the-Constitution, it's the air-conditioners. I can't hear the air-conditioners. They have all stopped. That's what's wrong."

There was no question about it. The humming of the big machines had stopped, and that meant that the computers were shut down, which meant that the GOvernment, at least temporarily, was without its brain.

They rushed to their office. Don immediately got on the telephone to contact the Computer Department (DC). J was tired, happy that Don was prepared to deal with this matter. He sat down at his desk, and was about to light a cigarette when he noticed the envelope waiting for him. It was marked

MOST URGENT

and

for the Attention of the Department for the Prevention of Overpopulation,

and

Head of the Department,

and

PERSONAL ,

and underneath, to stress urgency even further,

TO BE OPENED AT ONCE.

J was surprised. Never before had he received a letter with indications of such importance. He broke the seal and took out the single sheet of paper, on which he found a short notice in computer print:

ALL INFORMATION & ORDERS GIVEN BY THE COMPUTERS TODAY ARE TO BE IGNORED. MALFUNCTION IN THE CPU HAS CAUSED INCORRECT INSTRUCTIONS TO BE ISSUED. ELIMINATIONS MUST NOT TAKE PLACE. REPEAT: ORDERS GIVEN BY THE COMPUTERS TODAY ARE WRONG. IGNORE THEM. NO ELIMINATIONS TODAY.

J had to read the notice several times before all its implications sank in. Here was the order not to eliminate anybody today. Here was a piece of paper stating that he had, unintentionally, committed murder. Murder, instead of aiding GOvernment and society.

And the worst of it was that he had just sacrificed his own wife on the altar of society.

All the emotions he had successfully suppressed came rushing to the fore. Fear, hatred, despair, resentment flooded his mind.

Something was evil about a system which allowed for mistakes, that allowed computers to issue 'incorrect orders'; something was very wrong with a system which made a man kill his wife by mistake. Mistakes had caused this, mistakes, of all things...

The most stunning fact was that a computer had made the mistakes. Here was proof that the GOvernment and its computers could be in error, that they were not infallible.

Don came rushing to J's desk.

"Listen to what happened: the computer downstairs has given us the wrong information. We shouldn't have gone out on these jobs today. Right after we left the computer printed a retraction and reported itself to the technicians for service. It hasn't worked since. It seems we were the only Department to receive an order from it today. This has never happened before, never in recorded history has a GOvernment computer made a mistake."

Don was very excited. And with good cause, thought J. They had just made history. It was a first since Federation, and it had to be their section of the GOvernment computers that had gone wrong.

Don was continuing his report. But J had heard enough. Resigned, he pushed the print-out towards his partner.

J was extremely tired now. He decided the day had been eventful enough, that nobody could ask him to do any more work. He would go home. Possibly he should stay, thought J, at least until the investigation into the cause of this mistake had commenced. But he was really much too tired, and he couldn't contribute much anyway. All he wanted to do now was to go to sleep as quickly as possible and for as long as possible.

J left his office and the New Federal GOvernment Building (NFGB) without looking back. Something had been shattered in him, he had lost all confidence in the order of life for which he had worked so hard all these years. He felt useless, he thought the GOvernment useless, everything was useless, everything was wrong.

J enjoyed the ride in his car, as he always did, even under these circumstances. It calmed him - he had a few minutes to smoke, to listen to the news on the car radio... a time of relaxation for him.

By the time he reached home, he was no longer tired. He felt more active than he had throughout the day, ready to do something, but with nothing to do. He considered for a brief moment returning to the office, but dismissed the thought. There was nothing to be done there. There was nothing to be done anywhere, it seemed.

J entered the house. His sudden urge to return to work was really based on his fear of seeing his wife again, lying there on the couch. But he would have to face up to that sooner or later, he had to go back to the place where it all happened. Perhaps he would feel better if he ate something.

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