"Davis, Jerry - Justification" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

JUSTIFICATION

й 1996 by Jerry J. Davis

Previously Published in Aboriginal Science Fiction Magazine

Dale Bently shuffled out of his apartment in his robe and
slippers, squinting in the pale fall sunlight, heading toward the
mailbox and the letter that would tell him his life was over. In
one week it would be his fortieth birthday, and while he had that
vaguely in mind, he had forgotten about what it meant. He had
forgotten a lot within the past five years, his life becoming a
pale blur of featureless days.
He opened the mailbox with his thumbprint and pulled out the
small bundle of junk mail, not even seeing the envelope from the
Bureau of the Census. He carried it back to his apartment and
shuffled inside, the end of his daily trip into the world. He shut
the door and locked it, and threw the mail down on the coffee
table that separated the couch from the television. As the letters
spread out he saw the bright red envelope and it caught his
attention. He'd seen that envelope before.
It was easy when Dale Bently was five years old; he was a
child in good health and was getting good grades in school.
Children of his age were rarely judged poorly. It was the same
when he was ten years old. By the time he was fifteen he'd
developed into a bit of a disciplinary problem, but that was
normal for a teenager and there was still no real worry. When he
was 20 he was in college and getting good grades again.
By the time he was 25 Dale was making a good living as a
apprentice engineer with Lagrange 5 Corp. It was the first time
he'd seen the Census as a threat, but as he was actively working
for the good of mankind and producing more than his share, he
passed. The same when he was 30 and 35 years old. But then there
was the accident, and the hospitals, and the lawsuit which gave
him enough money to compensate him for not ever being able to work
in high orbit again.
The money, officially, was for him to be able to reeducate
and enter a new career, but as it turned out it was enough for him
to comfortably survive without working for a considerably long
time. He grew inward, reclusive, living for his daily and nightly
television favorites. It never occurred to him, never at all, that
he was dooming his very existence.
He opened the red envelope and held its contents in his
hands. The Census! he thought. The damned Census!

Bureau of the Census
Dept. of Life Evaluation
Division of Judgment
Los Angeles, CA 90039-3278-34