Jerry Davis - Justification.pdf - Jerry Davis - allforjesus2001

JUSTIFICATION

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

mailboxand the letter that would tell him his life was over. In

oneweek it would be his fortieth birthday, and while he had that

vaguelyin mind, he had forgotten about what it meant. He had

forgottena lot within the past five years, his life becoming a

paleblur of featureless days.

He opened the mailbox with his thumbprint and pulled out the

smallbundle of junk mail, not even seeing the envelope from the

Bureau of the Census.He carried it back to his apartment and

shuffledinside, the end of his daily trip into the world. He shut

thedoor and locked it, and threw the mail down on the coffee

tablethat separated the couch from the television. As the letters

spreadout 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

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childin good health and was getting good grades in school.

Children of his age were rarely judged poorly. It was the same

whenhe was ten years old. By the time he was fifteen he'd

developedinto a bit of a disciplinary problem, but that was

normalfor a teenager and there was still no real worry. When he

was20 he was in college and getting good grades again.

By the time he was 25 Dale was making a good living as a

apprenticeengineer with Lagrange 5 Corp. It was the first time

he'dseen the Census as a threat, but as he was actively working

forthe good of mankind and producing more than his share, he

passed. The same when he was 30 and 35 years old. But then there

wasthe accident, and the hospitals, and the lawsuit which gave

himenough money to compensate him for not ever being able to work

inhigh orbit again.

The money, officially, was for him to be able to reeducate

andenter a new career, but as it turned out it was enough for him

tocomfortably 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

hewas 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

Page 2

Los Angeles, CA 90039-3278-34

Notice to Mr. Dale Bently of 7892634 Vericruz

Lane, Apt. 982e7, Tuleburg California

95205-1252-08, S.S. #578-23-8493-X-4398:

IMPORTANT! This is your 5 year census notice!

You must fill out the accompanying form and

essayand return to the Bureau (see enclosed

self-addressedenvelope) before your deadline

ofNovember 1st. Failure to complete or return

thecensus will jeopardize your status of

citizenship.

My God! Dale thought. My God, I forgot all about this! What haveI

beenthinking!?

He looked over the form and the instructions for the essay.

The form itself only counted for %10 of the evaluation. It was the

essaythat carried the weight. In big bold letters the

instructionsread:

In your own handwriting, justify your existence in 500 words or

less.

Letter held numbly in his hand, Dale walked to a window and looked

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out. The white sunlight made everything glare in his eyes, causing

himto squint. It looked so unreal, much less real than the

televisionscreen. There was no color out there.

Dale looked down at the letter. He looked at the date.

November 1st, it read. He had one week.

The trolley rumbled and swayed over the old freeway

foundations, steel wheels singing against steel tracks as it

whizzedout ofOldTown and into the vast spread of cityscape that

coveredthe once vital farmlands. Tuleburg was now bigger than the

L.A.basin, with Money and Business drawn around the big space

portslike iron filings to a magnet. The sprawl of theCalifornia

CentralCollegecampus was visible miles before the swaying green

trolleyreached the station, giving the impression that the

trolleywas barely creeping along. This was pure illusion, as they

were travelingin excess of 70 miles per hour. Dale was standing,

holdingonto a rail and squinting through the windows, when the

brakeswere applied. He was thrown forward and would have gone

tumblinghad he not grabbed on with his other hand.

The walk from the station into the campus had him exhausted

beforehe was anywhere near his destination. He had a headache and

hewas dizzy and his legs felt like they were going to collapse

beneathhim. The students milling about all looked impossibly

young. He couldn't tell if they were 14 or 24.

Page 4

One tower stood out from the rest. He entered and rested on

abench in front of the elevators for a while, mentally preparing

himselffor the interview.Almost five years ago Lagrange 5 Corp.

hadsuggested he take up teaching --- he only hoped that it wasn't

toolate. By teaching the young, he could easily justify his

existence.

His watch beeped and said, "You'd better hurry up, your

appointmentis in five minutes." Dale sighed, said, "Oh, shut up,"

tothe watch, and wearily got to his feet. He touched the button

forthe elevator and the doors opened. He stepped inside,

announcedhis destination as the 22nd level, and nearly toppled to

thefloor as the elevator swooped upwards toward the top of the

tower.

On the 22nd floor, he managed to find his way toVirginia

Mergle'soffice, which was a large hardwood door with a sign that

read"PERSONNEL." Beyond was a waiting room with a large

informationscreen in a corner and seats all around. A computer

voicesaid, "State your name and business," as soon as he entered.

Dale spoke up in a nervous voice, and the computer acknowledged

himand said, "Miss Mergle will see you in one minute, seventeen

seconds." The information screen showed several different views of

thecampus, a scrolling list of job opportunities, and a

documentaryon keeping full sized whales in captivity.

When the countdown to his appointment reached zero the door

swungopen by itself and the computer announced, "Miss Mergle will

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