"Jack C. Haldeman II - We, the People" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haldeman Jack C)

veterinarian. Still, he had a little left over.

And so it went that day, all over the country. People put money into the programs that touched their
lives and ignored the rest. They turned out to be excellent judges of the things they needed. The quality of
life in the country had improved tremendously since the introduction of the Uniform Tax Act.
It had all started with a box on the tax form to support presidential campaigns. The next box to
come along allocated money for the space program. Within two years the Mars project was completely
funded. That unexpected success had lobbyists descending on Washington like a plague. Everyone
wanted a special box on the tax form. Eventually they all got it.
Economists predicted chaos, but what they got was cooperation. People knew what they wanted,
and for the first time in history they were able to get it. Unpopular projects came to a grinding halt as
money for them was withheld. Politicians were forced to be more in tune with the desires of the public.
Control of the purse-strings turned out to be the ultimate democratic tool, even more effective than the
ballot.
Times changed. They changed for the better.

Mark's cat had climbed onto his lap and fallen asleep. He relaxed in front of the desk, stroking the
cat and responding to the programs almost automatically as they rolled across the screen in the quiet
room. They were presented to him randomly. Each taxpayer got them in a different order, so that
position on the list didn't favor any one program over another.
Mark had been doing tax forms for years, so it didn't take much thought. He remembered his
mother's last years and increased his amount for Aid to the Elderly. He allocated money for the school
lunch program and aid for the handicapped. He supported environmental programs and medical
research. Although solar energy was the norm now, he put a few dollars into geothermal studies. He
refused to put any money into bailing out two major oil companies. If they couldn't change with the times,
that was their problem.
He studied last year's military expenditures carefully. What was the sense in having enough weapons
to kill everyone on the face of the Earth six times over? He cut back even farther than he had last year.
He made up the difference in veterans' benefits. Being one himself, he had a vested interest.
Vietnam had cut a bloody swath through his family before he was born, but he hadn't managed to
escape the oil wars and that fiasco in South America. The jungle had cost him two brothers, a hip, and a
knee. No amount of aid could bring back his brothers or his friends. It had been such a useless loss.
The words on the screen were blurry, and when he blinked his eyes he realized he'd been crying. He
softly cursed. He slipped one hand out from beneath the cat and wiped his eyes. The words became
clear once more.
"THAT'S THE END OF THE LISTING, MARK. YOU STILL HAVE A BALANCE OF
$795.32. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO RUN THE SCREEN AGAIN?"
 "No." The tears were coming again, damn it. He blinked his eyes.
"YOU MUST ALLOCATE ALL YOUR TAX MONEY."
He thought of his brothers, and the times they'd had growing up. The days seemed bathed in the
warm glow of summer sunshine. They were precious days, gone forever. He knew that every person
who had died in any war on any side for any cause had been grieved for, just as he was grieving now. It
tore at his heart. All that pain, all that suffering.
"WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO RUN THE SCREEN AGAIN?"
"No," he said softly.
"WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADD AN ADDITIONAL CATEGORY?"
"Yes." It was barely a whisper.
"READY. ENTER NEW CATEGORY."
"Peace," he said, and his single word floated in the quiet apartment.
"COULD YOU PLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC, MARK?"