"Well, it doesn't. It certainly didn't keep Central from issuing the flag. Why would they have issued a flag unless there was some concern?"
Mr. White tapped his pen on his desk a few times, and leaned forward. "How much do you know about the CDP test?"
"Central looks into the future and determines the baby's community viability," Johnnie said. "that's really all there is to it, right?"
Mr. White chuckled. "Well, that's not really accurate. Central can't look into the future. That's impossible," he said, chuckling. "What it does do is predict the future based off of the child's cellular past, the parent's cellular past and other environmental factors. You see, once you can witness the cellular history of an individual, you can predict future activity through sheer computational power. Central has an over ninety-nine percent success rate with this test. We don't question the results. "
I knew Johnnie wasn't going to take the hint so I cut him off before he could do more damage. "It's just so confusing, Mr. White," I said, smiling as wide as I could. "Aren't flags usually reserved for children with. well, problems?"
"Actually," he said, "the flag is just an indication that the parents will have to make a sacrifice. Sometimes it means that the child will be handicapped, and the parents will have to work additional hours to make up for the extra burden on the State. All we know is that when a flag comes up, the sacrifice necessary from the parents is sufficient to warrant giving them the option to terminate the pregnancy. It's how we protect your freedoms as individuals.
"The State values that highly. " He smiled.
"But our child is a ten," I said. "Tens can't be a burden on the State by definition. They are the ones that make the State better. "
"That's true. Which is why I'm not overly concerned with the flag. And neither should you. Your child will be an asset to the State. You'll have to make a sacrifice, but what parent doesn't?"
I knew I had to phrase my next question carefully. "And there's no indication as to what form that sacrifice might take?"
"You know I can't answer that," Mr. White said. "And you know you shouldn't even be asking. Knowledge of the results can affect their outcome. "
"I see. Well, thank you—"
"You didn't answer my question," Johnnie said. "What happens if we take the flag option?"
Mr. White fidgeted in his chair. "Well, your promotion will be cancelled, for one thing. " He grabbed a folder from the stack of papers and flipped it open. "You're a six now, correct?"
Johnnie nodded.
"Hmm," Mr. White said, flipping through pages. "Did you know that your boss had put in for a rate reduction?"
"Excuse me?" Johnnie leaned forward in his seat. I could see his cheeks turning red. "I work harder than—"
"Says here," Mr. White interjected, "that your boss seems to think that although you spend fifty hours a week on the job, your production levels only account for thirty hours worth of work. He recommended you be downgraded to a five so that you can actually accomplish forty hours worth of work in sixty hours time. "
"That's not right. I work harder than—"
"But you don't have to worry about that anymore, "Mr. White said, smiling wider. "You've been promoted to an eight. "
Johnnie's mouth hung open. It was time to get out of there. "thank you, Mr. White. We both appreciate your time. "
Johnnie was still dazed by the time we got back to the transport. It didn't help matters any that it wasn't the same one we had left in the parking garage. It was bigger. Longer. It was a transport belonging to a couple of eights. There was no driver's seat.
Central had control.
"A demotion?" Johnnie said. "I can't believe that—"
"No," I said, nodding toward the speaker panel on the dashboard. "A promotion. What great luck. " Doubt gnawed at my insides, but this wasn't the place to discuss it.
We sat quietly while Central directed the car onto the freeway. Once again, we passed our off-ramp without slowing.
"Central," Johnnie said. "List destination. "
The soft voice of Central command filled the cabin, "Your new residence, sir. "
"New residence, of course. "
"You have eighteen voice messages, sir, all offering congratulations on your promotion and the impending boon to the Nation that your son's birth will deliver. Would you like to hear them?"
So it was a boy.
Neither of us felt much like celebrating. "Not now, Central," I said. "Just take us home. "
We'd managed to go a full week without appearing in public. The raise meant Johnnie could work from home, so we didn't have to go out if we didn't want but we both knew we'd stayed hidden as long as we could. I'd convinced Johnnie to show our faces at the opera — I'd never been to the opera; it was one of the perks of the promotion and I was looking forward to the evening — but even that had been a struggle. Since we'd come home from Human Services, he'd spent all his free time in front of the computer. He wouldn't even discuss the test results with me.
My wardrobe had picked out a deep-blue chiffon evening gown for me. I dressed in front of the full length mirror and once I was ready, the lights dimmed while the environmental controls chose the scent of roses to fill the room. It was the first time in weeks I'd felt relaxed. A night out would do us good. I only hoped Johnnie would be in a similar mood.
Instead, I found Johnnie still sitting in front of the computer. He hadn't yet started to get ready. "We'll be late," I said.
He glanced my direction and did a double-take. "You look beautiful. "
I crossed one ankle over the other, dipped my chin and looked up at him. "then get up, get dressed and take me on a date. "
He sighed, took a deep breath and said, "I do so very love you, you know. "
"Then get dressed. "
He pushed himself away from the desk and walked toward his dressing room.
"And don't even try," I called after him, "to pick something out yourself. Just wear what your wardrobe chooses. You'd never match this color if you had all night. "
"I'm not completely useless. "
"Oh honey, I know that," I said, smiling as sweetly as possible. "You're only useless when trying to dress yourself. Now hurry up!"
We made it out the door on time.
Our new transport was no where to be seen. An older model pulled up in front of our building.
"I requested a downgrade for the evening," Johnnie said. "I felt like driving. "
I shook my head. "As long as you get us there on time. "
He held my door open and closed it behind me. I waited until we left the parking lot and slid my hand onto his leg. It was good to be out again. Even though the new apartment had plenty of room, it just felt great to get out from behind the walls, to get back into the world again.
Once we'd turned onto the surface streets, Johnnie engaged the auto-drive and leaned back in his seat. "I thought you said you wanted to drive?"
"I lied. I just wanted to talk to you without a speaker. "
My good mood evaporated. "Do we have to do this now?"
"Did you know," he asked without acknowledging my question, "that in the four cases where a mother has died in childbirth over the last ten years, the flag option had been available in every case?"
My stomach turned. "So? that doesn't mean—"
"No, no, it doesn't mean—"
"So why are you bringing this up?" I asked. "Don't you think I'm frightened enough already?"
Johnnie leaned closer to me. "But it doesn't mean it isn't possible, either. We've got to consider it. "
"It could also mean that our son will have a learning disability, and we'll have to work particularly hard to get him through it. " My cheeks were burning. I understood his concern, but I couldn't believe he was going to ruin our first night out together in ages.