I don't know, I replied. I just wanted to tell you my feelings on the matter.

He sighed then and turned in his swivel chair and stared out the window.

After a time, I thought he had gone to sleep, as he sometimes did right after lunch.

Finally, though, he spoke: Don't you think I've heard those arguments a thousand times before?

Probably, I replied, and I've always wondered how you might have answered them.

I have no answers, he said abruptly. I feel it is for the better, or I would not be associated with it. I could be wrong, though. I will admit that. But some means has to be found to record and regulate all the significant features of a society as complex as ours has become. If you think of a better way of running the show, tell me about it.

I was silent. I lit a cigarette and waited for his next words. I did not know at the time that he only had about six months of life remaining to him.

Did you ever consider buying out? he finally asked.

What do you mean?

Resigning. Quitting the system.

I'm not sure that I understand ...

We in the system will be the last to have our personal records programmed in.

Why?

Because I wanted it that way, in case anyone came to me as you have today and asked me what you have asked me.

Has anyone else done it?

I would not say if they had, to keep the intended purity of the thing complete.

'Buying out.' By this, I take it that you mean destroying my personal data before someone enters it into the system?

That is correct, he said.

But I would not be able to get another job, with no academic record, no past work history ...

That would be your problem.

I couldn't purchase anything with no credit rating.