Decrease

Wednesday - September 15

"Open it," he commands.

Stevens continues to puff on his stinking habit, as he blatantly projects his snide look at me. When he takes a deep-inhaled puff, he expels the smoky stench, replying, "As if you didn't know, Dr. Bennett."

I continue my cold, hard stare at Stevens, and still proclaiming my denials of his accusation, inquire, "What do you want?"

"Well, Dr. Bennett," Stevens says, as he flicks his ashes onto the floor, "you and your wife have been... What's the word I'm searching for? Yes, mendacious. I know, as well as you and her, that a child is soon to be born, a child not legal. But not to worry, my good doctor, for I have a proposal for you and your good wife. A proposal I trust you will accept with gratitude."

As I sit before this huge mass of licensed tyranny, I feel my blood pressure beginning to rise, wishing I had a gun to kill this asshole. How in the hell does he know about the baby? Placing both of my feet firmly underneath my desk, I raise my right fist, and with all my might slam it down on my desk, yelling, "What do you want!" I tell myself to slow my breathing down, but I can tell Stevens knows I'm frightened by his presence, and also what powers he could enforce since he works for the Population Control Administration. I unfold my fist while he just sits there smoking his damn cigar.

After a few awkward seconds of silence, Stevens takes his cigar and snuffs it out on my desk. Afterwards, he throws the butt onto the floor. Not allowing myself to get any more pissed off than what I already am, I decide to play it his way. I lean back in my chair, saying, "Okay, Stevens, so you know that my wife is pregnant, illegally. So, where do we go from here?"

"Oh, I don't go anywhere, Dr. Bennett. It's your wife who's going somewhere if you don't cooperate."

"Cooperate? Cooperate with whom?" I ask, giving a puzzling look.

"You're going to give us the baby, Dr. Bennett. And for that, you, your wife, and your baby's lives will be spared."

"Or what?" I demand.

"Then the two of you will be arrested, your wife will be scheduled for an abortion, and then the both of you will be sterilized. That's if the Population Control Administration doesn't have you both eradicated first."

Damn it! What the hell do I do? I look at the clock and see it's nearly 4:00 p.m. I need to get back to the lab! How do I get rid of this jerk? I can't. The damn Population Control Administration sent him. Damn it, Claire! Her secret was the precursor of hell week. Silently tapping my foot, I glance at Mr. Stevens, asking, "Do we get any compensation for the baby?"

"Yeah, you do. You get to live."

I lower my head, and reluctantly tilt my head towards Stevens and tell him what he wants to hear. "Well, I guess we'll just have to comply with the Population Control Administration. You do know there is a plague of some kind and..." I stop in the middle of my sentence and quickly change the topic. "How in the hell did you get in here? You're not cleared for lockdown!" I eject myself from my chair, and quickly go around my desk ready to inflict force on Stevens, when surprisingly I see a gun barrel pointing directly at my face. I stand back, with my hands up, while this thug threatens me and my family's future.

He begins to signal me with a wave of the pistol, and calmly says, "Sit your ass back down, Dr. Bennett. I will kill you here, and now, if need be. So don't make me pull the trigger. Capisce?" I nod my head yes, and unwillingly return to my chair.

"Put down your hands, Dr. Bennett," orders Stevens.

I lower my arms and place my palms on top of my desk. I swallow and take a deep breath, which nearly causes me to choke on my own saliva. I absolutely have no doubt that the Population Control Administration means business. Totally helpless, I look at Stevens, then say, "Fine, asshole. You can have the damn baby. Just... just don't hurt my wife. Okay? Just don't hurt Claire."