They were wrong.
From birth to retirement age at 80, her figures were actually quite good. It was from 80 to 100 that things didn't work.
Not enough people were dying at those ages.
In fact, she realized, almost no one was dying, compared to the normal mortality rates. And then, from 100 to 110, they died like flies, so that from 110 on the statistics were normal.
Surely someone would have noticed this before, Kyaren thought. Certainly the Earth would have gained a reputation for unusually low mortality rates. It had to be common knowledge-the food distribution must certainly be affected by it, and pension expenses must be unusually high. Scientists must be trying to discover the reason for the phenomenon.
And yet she had never heard of it at all
In the programming manuals they had looked at in the library in Mexico, Kyaren had found some little-known programs that allowed an operator to check a program rather than use It to find and process data. Kyaren talked to Josif about it that night, which they spent at his place because it was larger and had room for both of them without having to petition for extra furniture, which would have made their arrangement public knowledge.
I've checked my figures again and again, and they're not wrong.
Well, the only way to solve it is go kill some old people, I guess, Josif said, reading a twenty-third-century mystery-in translation, of course.
Josif, it's wrong. Something's wrong. Kyaren, he said, impatient but trying not to sound like it, this is a game we were playing. We really don't have any responsibility for the whole world. Just for dead people and the not-quite-dead. And then just as numbers.
I want to find out if the figures on death are right or not.
Josif closed the book. Kyaren, the figures on death are right. That's my job, isn't it? I do death.
Then check and see if my figures are right,
He checked. Her figures were right.
Your figures are right. Maybe the book's wrong.
It's been the bible of demographics for three centuries. Someone would have noticed by now.
Josif opened the book again. Damned Earth. The people don't even know when to die.
You must have noticed it, Kyaren said. You must have seen that most of your deaths were grouped between a hundred and a hundred and ten.
I've never noticed anything like that. We deal with individuals, not the aggregate. We terminate files, you know? We don't watch trends.
I just want to check some things. You know that program we found on checking entries? The error-finder?
Yeah.
Remember the numbers?
Kyaren, you're not being very good company.
Together they figured out the numbers and codes; Kyaren left for a few minutes and verified them on the local library terminal by hunting up her last library use. The program worked fine; it was quite simple, in fact, which was why they were able to remember it.
The next day, during a break, Kyaren punched in a date-of-entry query on the solitary death in Quong-yung district-she figured a single death would be simpler, would give her a single readout. What should have flashed on her screen was the date of entry, the name of the operator who entered the death information, the vital statistics entered on that date on that person, and the operation number.
Instead, what flashed on was the bright RESTRICTED sign and what sounded was a loud buzzer at Warvel's desk.
Everyone looked up immediately, watched as Warvel got up quickly, looking alarmed. Kyaren knew that on his desk her area was flashing;-sure enough, when he located the culprit he slammed his hand on the desk and charged furiously over to her.
What the bloody hell are you doing, Kyaren! he bawled as he came over.
What should she tell him-that she was playing a game of plotting to take over the world? That she was double-checking the figures because they didn't jibe with her own calculations?
"I don't know, she said, letting herself sound as surprised and flustered as she felt. I was just playing with the thing. Just punching in random numbers and words, I don't know.
Which random numbers and words? he demanded, leaning over her terminal.
I don't remember, she lied. It was just whimsical.
It was just stupid,' he said back to her. There are programs here that if you just randomly and whimsically happened to stumble on them, they'd freeze the whole operation until the stinking police came to find out who's trying to jury the system. You understand? This system is foolproof, but we don't need any extra fools trying to prove it!
She apologized profusely, but as he returned, unmollified, to his desk, she realized that he had seemed not so much angry as afraid. And the others in the room, as Warvel returned to his desk, looked at her sullenly, angrily-and, also, fearfully.
What had she done?
Kyaren, Warvel said as she left the office at the end of the working day. Kyaren, your four-month report is coming up in a few days. I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a negative report.
Kyaren was stunned. Why? she asked.
You haven't been working. You've been obviously loafing. It's bad for morale, and it's downright dishonest.
When have I loafed? she asked. A negative report now, on her first job-especially one this easy-could destroy her hope of a government career.
I have complaints from fourteen people. Every single person in this office except you and me, Kyaren. They're tired of watching you playing games. Studying up on ancient history and playing computer games when you should be trying to help old people cope with inflation and the fluctuations of the economy. We aren't here for fun, Kyaren, we're here to help people. Do you understand?
She nodded. That's what I'm trying to do.
I'll give you a negative report, but I won't fire you unless there's any more trouble. You understand? Three years of perfect work and you get the negative report taken off your record. It's something you can live down- if you just stick to business in the future.
She left. At home Josif was appalled.
Fourteen complaints?
That's what he said.
Kyaren, you could have an intimate sexual relationship with a lamp in the middle of the lunchroom and you'd have a hard time getting three complaints!
What do they have against me? she asked.
Josif's face grew somber. Me, he said.
What?
Me. You had problems enough. Adding me to them- do you know how many women have tried to get me into bed? There's something about a known homosexual that's irresistible to a certain kind of woman. They regard him as a challenge. Me as a challenge. And then you come along and suddenly we're spending weekends together. The ones that aren't jealous are probably revolted to think of what perverted things I must be making you do.
It isn't you.
Then what is it?
They're afraid.
Of what?
How should I know?
Josif got up from the bed, went to the door, leaned on it. Kyaren, it's me. We've got to stop. When you leave tonight that's it.
He sounded sincere. She wondered why even the thought of leaving him and not coming back made her feel as if she were falling from someplace very high.
I'm not leaving tonight, she said. I'm leaving in the morning.
No. For your own good.
She laughed incredulously. My own good!
He looked at her from the door, his face very serious.
My own good is to stay right here.
He shook his head.
Do you really mean this? she asked, unbelieving. Just like that, you decide I'm supposed to go because you think it'll be better for me?
Sounds pretty stupid, doesn't it, he said.
And they started laughing and he came back to the bed and suddenly they weren't laughing, just holding each other and realizing that this wasn't something they could simply end when it became inconvenient.