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THE GREAT POTLATCH RIOTS
By ALLEN KIM LANG
_Oh, leave it to the bureaucrats and they'll figure out new ways to make you buy more and more.... But there was only one way the poor consumer could rise up in his wrath._
"I've sweated for months over the plans for this campaign," CaptainWesley Winfree told the Major. "Just nod, sir; that's all I ask; andI'll throw my forces into the field."
"I admire your audacity, Winfree," Major Stanley Dampfer said, "butdon't you think we'd be wise to consolidate our current positions beforelaunching a fresh offensive?"
Captain Winfree, straight in his scarlet-trimmed winter greens, tappedthe toe of one boot with his swagger-stick. "With all respect, sir," hesaid, "I feel that if we do no more than hold the line, we're lendingmoral comfort to the foes of prosperity. Attack! That's my battle-plan,sir. Attack! And attack again!"
Major Dampfer, seated behind Winfree's desk, stretched out his legs andsighed. "You younger officers, men who've never in your lives tasteddefeat, are an inspiration and a trial to us old field-graders," hesaid. "Captain, a project that failed could set your District backfifteen years."
"I realize that, sir," Winfree said. "I'm placing my career in thebalance. If I attempt this, and goof, ship me to the sticks, Major. I'drather spend the rest of my BSG years as a corporal, a simple PotlatchObserver in a downstate village, than never to have embarked on thiscampaign."
"Young Napoleon must have been very like you, Winfree," Major Dampfermused. "Very well, lad. Brief me."
"Yes, sir!" Captain Winfree marched over to the giant calendar thatcovered one wall of his office and tapped his stick against the threedates circled in red. "We've established this triangle ofstrong-points," he said. "We control the second Sunday in May and thethird Sunday in June in addition to our first and most vital holding,the twenty-fifth of December. I regard these three victories, sir, asonly beachheads, only the softening-up phases of a still greatercampaign. We must press on toward Total Prosperity."
"How, Winfree?" Major Dampfer asked.
"By adding three hundred and sixty-two days a year to our laurels, sir,"Winfree said, sweeping his swagger-stick across the face of thecalendar. "My plan is to make every consumer's birthday a Gratuity Dayfor each of his Nearest-and-Dearest."
Major Dampfer sat up straight. "Captain," he said softly, "this isThinking Big. This could lend billions a year to the Gross NationalProduct. It could mean a major break-through on the Prosperity front.Are you really proposing that each consumer be required to give birthdaypresents to the same people, and on the same scale, as he now gives XmasGratuities?"
"Precisely, sir," Captain Winfree said. "My staff has in the files thebirthdate of every consumer in the District. Enforcement of the newquotas I propose will be no more difficult than the old: the same scaleof fines for non-compliance, the same terms of imprisonment for repeatedoffenses will be imposed. The dates-of-destruction to be marked onBirthday Gratuities will be set as the next Potlatch Day, plus one year.Merchandise will be marked with the year-date precisely as is now donefor Xmas, Dad's Day, and Mom's Day gifts. Birthday-cards will beaddressed and sent from this office, just like Xmas cards."
* * * * *
Major Dampfer stood and drew on his uniform gauntlets. "May I assumethat you've covered the field public-relations-wise?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," Captain Winfree said. "I've composed a slogan for thisyear's drive in my District: 'Make the Magi Come the Year'Round--Birthday Gratuities for All!'"
"It sings, Winfree," Major Dampfer said. "I like it. Captain, you havemy nod. Carry on with this program. If you win the battle for thisDistrict, I'll get you a desk in Washington and Divisional Command;you'll help us tailor your plan to fit the entire nation."
"Thank you, sir," Winfree said, grinning. "I won't disappoint you."
"You'd best not," the Major said. He paused by the office door. "CaptainWinfree, the word is on the grapevine that you're planning to marry oneof the corporals in your office. That right?"
"Yes, sir," Winfree said. "Peggy and I have set the wedding fortwenty-three December, the day before Potlatch. We'd be delightedshould your duties allow you to attend, Major."
"I'll be there," Major Dampfer promised. "And as a little gift from theBureau of Seasonal Gratuities, Winfree, I order you to move out on yournew campaign that same day: twenty-three December." He raised agauntleted hand. "No, Captain! Don't protest that you'll be needed here.Your work is strategy, not tactics. Your plans can be implemented byyour staff while you're off on your honeymoon."
"Whatever you say, sir," Winfree said.
"I'd be further gratified," the Major continued, "if you'd hold theceremony right here in your Headquarters Building. We of the BSG mustestablish some traditions, Winfree; the other Services have acentury-and-a-half's lead on us in that field. So, if the lovelycorporal approves, we'll make yours a proper military wedding."
"All this is very good of you, sir," Captain Winfree said. "I'm certainPeggy will be pleased."
"Good!" Major Dampfer said. "I'll handle all the details. Winfree,you've got the quality we used to know as Old-Fashioned IntestinalFortitude, back in the day when a spade was called a spade and noapologies about it. We need more men like you in the Bureau." He snappeda salute. "Carry on, Captain; and Happy Potlatch!"
"A Very Happy Potlatch to you, sir!" Winfree said, tossing back thesalute. "And a Merry Xmas!"
Captain Winfree walked to the big window in the outer office to watchMajor Dampfer driven off in his sergeant-chauffeured, scarlet-and-greenBSG Rolls limousine. Then he about-faced without warning to glare at hislittle command, the eight non-coms, the twenty-seven Other Ranks, thefour young lieutenants. They all sat silent, watching him as thoughwaiting for confirmation of an unpleasant rumor. Not a file-cabinetstood open, not a typewriter was moving. "Listen, you people," Winfreegrowled, pointing his swagger-stick like a weapon, not sparing evenCorporal Peggy MacHenery his anger; "We've got a Potlatch Day coming up,the biggest ever. Now get on the ball, dammit! I don't want to see oneof you stopping for breath again till Xmas Day." The lieutenants andsergeants flushed; the girl privates jumped their fingers ontotypewriter keys. "Corporal MacHenery," Winfree said, "bring your notepadto my office."
* * * * *
Peggy MacHenery, Corporal, Bureau of Seasonal Gratuities, followed hercommanding officer and husband-designate into his office. "Close thedoor, Corporal," Winfree said. Peggy did so, and took her chair next tohis desk, the pad open on her knee and her fountain pen at the ready."No dictation," Captain Winfree said. "Please forgive me for takingvaluable official time for a personal matter, Corporal; especiallyafter that little display of tyranny I just put on out there. Peggy,Major Dampfer has ordered us to hold our wedding here at DistrictHeadquarters. He'll bring in a transport loaded with BSG brass, fly in aband to give us a send-off with pibrochs and marches and double-flams;and he'll probably set up an arch of sabers for us to parade through. Doyou mind all this very much, Peggy?"
* * * * *
She snapped her notepad shut. "Daddy will be furious," she said.
"Your dad is already so worked up about your marrying me, a BSG-man,that a little extra anger won't even show," Winfree said. "I'm convincedthat he's teaching me fencing only in hopes I'll have a fatal accident."
"Nonsense!" Peggy said. She tossed her notebook on the desk and stood totake Winfree's hand. "Don't make Daddy out a monster, Wes. About theother thing, the military wedding, I don't care. I'd marry you in abeer-barrel, if you wanted it that way."
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Captain Winfree took the girl's free hand. "Peggy," he said, "you're thegreatest! Now the good news. Major Dampfer has approved my plans forinstituting Birthday Gratuity Quotas in this District. Aren't you gladfor me?"
"Glad?" Peggy demanded, pulling away. "Wes, do you think the consumersof this District will put