Deathwatch (The Faded Earth Book 1)(30)
Comprehension dawned on Parker’s face. “Ah, I see. You want me to work directly for you. Because you don’t trust whoever is running the bio department.”
“Basically, yeah,” Eshton said. “We know someone has been trying to interfere with finding the stasis chambers, and if we turn you over it seems likely you’ll...disappear. What we don’t know is why anyone would do it. Curing the Fade and Fade B are all upside.”
Parker stared at him in dumbfounded amazement. “Do you guys not have money? Because in my day, a cure held by just one person or corporation was a license to print the stuff.”
“We do,” Eshton said, “but essential services are granted to every citizen. Medical care isn’t just free, it’s mandatory for everyone.”
Parker flinched as if slapped. “What? Mandatory how, exactly?”
Eshton grew confused. “I don’t understand the question. Beck?”
The young woman’s face pinched in thought as she took in the conversation. “Parker, I think you’re saying people weren’t required to get scheduled checkups and the like?”
“Ah, no,” Parker said. “Most people would if they could, I guess, but no one was forced to unless it was for a job.”
Beck nodded in understanding. “Okay. It’s different for us. Everyone goes in for exams on a schedule. Preventive care is mandatory, as are treatments. Some older people suffering from degenerative conditions can get waivers from the Deathwatch, but other than that, it’s universal.”
Parker’s horror seemed to grow with each word. “My god, what about body autonomy?”
Eshton, Bowers, and Beck all shared a round of bewildered looks before Eshton spoke up. “That’s not a term I’ve ever heard. I understand the words, obviously, but not the concept you’re trying to get across.”
Parker sat back on his sofa wearily, trying to gather his thoughts. “I had no idea things changed this much. Okay, um. It’s the right to have the ultimate say in what does or doesn’t happen to your body. In my day, you couldn’t be forced to carry a child to term or even give blood against your will. There were exceptions like court orders, but for the most part that was a bedrock part of the law.”
Bowers put a hand on Eshton’s shoulder before the younger man could speak. “Son, let me handle this. I’m old enough to remember at least a little of what he’s talking about.”
Parker’s eyebrows rose. “You can’t be that old.”
“Kind of you,” Bowers said with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “You’re right, of course. I’m not. But my mother was born at the end of the Collapse. Her parents lived through it. When the first Conclave was formed and the vote was cast to create what became the Protectorate, the first decision was whether to adopt the Tenets. There are general ones, but the more comprehensive versions were documents created by your people, old world people, as guidelines on how the tiny number of survivors might last in the long term.”
There was much more to it in terms of history and context, Eshton knew, but the bare bones of it clearly shined through to Parker, who nodded. “Like cannibalism when there’s no other food available. You cut out everything that didn’t promote survival of the species. Like basic civil rights.”
Bowers tilted his head sideways slightly. “From the tone of your voice, I think my understanding of that phrase is less comprehensive than I believed, but yes. You have the basic shape of it. I suppose it’s worth pointing out that if you help us develop a cure, since our own researchers have been stymied, you’ll be contributing to a world where those sorts of rights might once more have a chance to flourish.”
*
Eshton left Beck to speak with Parker not long after, he and Bowers exiting when a prearranged call came in for them. It was a pretext—as Beck worked out, they wanted her to form as much of a bond with the scientist as possible. A fresh face not yet carrying the weight that came with years of service in the Watch might win him over as none of his guards ever could.
They moved into the administration office for the small facility, a concession even Eshton recognized as being driven by the entrenched bureaucracy at the heart of the Watch. Despite the fact this place would likely only ever contain six or eight people at a time once the research began, their long habit for creating strict hierarchies could not be put aside.
He closed the door behind them as Bowers took a seat. Eshton chose to lean against the wall. “Do you think he’ll do it?”
Bowers blinked at him in a rare and understated show of surprise. “Of course he’ll do it. We’re not going to give him any good options. If he goes down the tunnel, he’ll either run into the door or end up on the tracks, and he’d never hear an incoming Loop carriage early enough to avoid being hit. Besides which, he seems to have a moral streak. Hard to imagine someone so concerned with the well-being of strangers refusing to work on a project that could save the world.”
Eshton heard the coldness in the words and for the first time wondered whether there was anything other than icy manipulation left in Bowers. Oh, he was dedicated to his ideals, and they were worthy ones, but Eshton felt rather inspired by Parker. The ideas he shared didn’t feel like wide-eyed optimism so much as neglected principles. “And what if he just flatly refuses, sir? Do we have a backup plan for that possibility?”