Giradoux

I

"It's about time to leave, J".

Jean-Jacques Giradoux looked at his wife. She was right, of course. She was always right. If she said that it was time to go, then it certainly was time to go. J never ceased to be amazed by his wife's efficiency. One day she would cheat the devil himself, with her logic and pedantic fascination for detail.

"It's such a nice day, today. I think I'll take the convertible".

He listened to his voice as he spoke. He was still in thought about his wife. Once, a long time ago, she had been a famous entertainer for the GOvernment Entertainment Services (GESs). She was still very beautiful today, a striking woman. Ten years of marriage had not diminished the glamour. Ten years, they had been married now. Ten years as model citizens; no children yet, and none planned. They were doing their bit for society.

"Jean-Jacques, you are going to be late".

Yes, she was right. She was also annoyed. He had not responded to her first reminder, now she was upset. She only called him 'Jean-Jacques' when she was peeved.

After ten years of marriage he knew all her moods, every expression on her face, everything. There was no mystery left. J smiled; he loved her even more for this intimacy of mutual understanding.

J didn't really feel like going to the office today. Work was always more difficult on a nice day; people were so happy and he didn't like to perform his duty on happy people. But, after all, he had a responsible position and couldn't simply take time off.

He took the briefcase with his instruments and walked slowly outside. It was always with great pride that he opened the garage door and beheld the three beautiful cars. There was no point in having three cars, since his wife never drove herself. But it was a sign of success, a symbol of achievement, which a person of his status was practically forced to carry in modern society.

He had achieved quite a lot, considering he was only thirty-two. He had come from nothing, from the overcrowded downtown slums, from a family of eleven children. He, the youngest, had made it. He had won scholarships to the best schools in the country, he had been selected for special educational privileges, and now, at his young age, he was in charge of a major GOvernment Department, perhaps the major GOvernment Department. He was proud of himself.

"Don't forget to stop at the butcher's after work, darling. She said our order would be ready by the time you get there".

J looked at his wife again. She had joined him, but even now she carried a writing pad on which she constantly made notes. Probably a detailed plan for her day's activities.

Efficient was definitely the word for her. He was more an artist by nature, a kind of intellectual artist. Not very organised, forgetful. He didn't deserve such a wonderful woman.

J kissed her. After ten years together he still enjoyed kissing her. Then he backed his large, beautiful convertible out of the driveway. He waved towards the house, where his wife was probably standing behind the curtains watching his departure. It was truly a magnificent day.

At the next corner J picked up his colleague, Don Kennedy, a young man, aggressive, out to get J's job. Don was efficient too, but in a sickening, tiresome and irksome way. J hadn't wanted to hire him, but pressure was put on him to give Don the appointment. And, after all, since this was not the sort of job he could have advertised in the 'positions vacant' columns of the local newspapers, he had very little choice but to accept him.

Don got into J's car. It occurred to J that Don had never bothered to thank him for the lifts in the morning and after work. That was Don. He took things for granted. He knew he was going to get J's job one day, he knew he would climb the ladder even quicker than J had done, he knew that he would be one of the most influential men in the world one of these days. With Don it was never a question of whether things would happen, but when. And that was what made Don so dangerous: his determination to speed up the natural advance of his career even further. Yes, Don was the typical bright young man on his way up.

"I'll just stop for some cigarettes here. I'll be back in a minute."

J cursed himself the moment he said it. Why, for heaven's sake, should he apologise to this young man? After all, he was stopping his own car, in his own time, as he had been doing every morning for the last eight years.

"Are you still on that kick? Can't you give up that stupid habit? No, you couldn't give it up, could you? Don't mind my saying so, old pal, but you're weak."

J frowned. He knew Don's thoughts on this subject, and he hated them. And again he despised Don. At times, when he managed to be honest with himself, he knew why he hated Don so much: not, because he was so insolent, so aggressive, so arrogant, but because he was so damned right all the time. Here was J, thirty-two years of age, thirty-three soon, and he had reached a position which Don would gain through pure arrogance by the time he was twenty-six. It was discouraging... Don was so right: J would never get anywhere, he had reached the end of a cul-de-sac very quickly, and now he was stuck there. But there was a great future ahead for Don.

J felt the anger rise in him. He walked to the corner shop, almost as an act of defiance, and bought a pack of synthetic cigarettes. On his way back he lit one, and immediately felt better. Why worry about that young fool? He imagined Don's stupidly grinning face, and he was not to be disappointed when he entered the car. But J felt at peace again.

The offices of the Department for the Prevention of Overpopulation (DPO) were located in the New Federal GOvernment Building (NFGB), an impressive and frightening complex in the centre of the city. The Department had always been important, ever since its establishment during the early days of the New World Republic (NWR), but recently had been upgraded even further. Staffing had been increased, a brand-new, even more powerful computer had been installed, and the Department had been given an extraordinarily large budget. Their rating had been moved from Top Secret to Only Responsible To The President. It all seemed a little pointless, since J didn't need any more people, nor a bigger budget, nor anything else, but it was designed to support the necessary prestige for this generally unpopular office.

No outsiders really seemed to know what went on behind the closed doors of the DPO, but that wasn't surprising. One did not question the policies of the Federal GOvernment, and most people didn't want to get too close to J's bureau anyway. After all, the Department's main purpose was the elimination of the surplus of citizens.

J's job was a difficult one; he had to keep the population at a desirable level. His Department was charged with the responsibility of executing all those citizens, who, by reasons of ill-health, mental attitude, or political influence, were no longer of benefit to society. But, naturally, such a task could not be accomplished completely; there were simply far too many undesirables.

So J had developed a new procedure, a system of psychological warfare against those who endangered the existence of society by overpopulating the world. A number of strategically important subjects were chosen, well-known people, or people with large families, and those individuals were eliminated. A large store of information about every citizen enabled the computers to select those whose sacrifice would 'educate' the largest possible number of others. It was then up to J and his agents throughout the world to make certain that the executions were performed and that they were well publicised, to let every citizen know what could happen to anybody, anytime, as long as there were some who failed to conform to the Population Code (PC) of the New Constitution (NC).

It was a good system, but it was unpleasant to administer for J and his co-workers. Wasn't it necessarily always the best-known and often best-loved individuals who had to be eliminated?

J often thought that he might have been too good at his job. Since he had taken over the management of the DPO, the population surplus had decreased steadily to ecologically sustainable levels, and birthrates continued to decline. His system was definitely showing success, even where all other methods in the past had always failed... like the old Chinese methods, which punished individuals economically, rather than exposing them to the extreme and unbearable peer pressure which came with J's methods.

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