Deathwatch (The Faded Earth Book 1)(4)
Beck shuddered at the thought of sleeping in the place. “No. I haven’t really thought about it. I could ask around, I guess.”
5110 nodded. “You have the option, if you like, of staying in the chapterhouse. I will need to fully debrief you on the protocols for a type B incident there anyway. You don’t have to, but there are people you can speak with who can offer...perspective that might help you through this.”
Beck knew herself well enough to understand where the sudden, intense interest in seeing the inside of the mysterious building came from. When a hard decision loomed on her horizon, she read a book or spent hours vegetating in front of the vid. Escapism was an old friend, and not difficult to recognize. “Sure, but I didn’t know citizens were allowed inside.”
“Usually they aren’t,” the Guard said. “There are a circumstances where it’s allowed. Required, in this case. Protocols for anyone with a direct relation to victims of type B include blood tests along with the usual administrative tasks. We will go whenever you’re ready. Since you’re not displaying symptoms, there isn’t a rush.”
Beck stood from the stoop and took a long, last look at her home. Even if given a dispensation to occupy a family dwelling rather than the usual single unit for unmarried citizens, she didn’t think she’d take it. Not because—or not only because—she knew they had died there. The place was identical to all the others around it in form, but for Beck it was home. Its personality and feel had been shaped by years of happy times, sculpted with laughter, stained with tears and fights. Joy and heartbreak and all the things that made a house a home, good and bad alike, ended with a single ugly handful of hours like a song cut off before it could be finished. A song skittering into discordant, painful notes.
“I think I’m done here,” she said. “Lead the way.”
*
An after bringing Beck in through the citizen entrance designed specifically for this purpose, he sat in one of the six interview rooms and waited patiently. She was off getting her physical and blood tests done. Ostensibly to make sure she wasn’t just resistant to Fade B, the reaction offset by time, but in reality the purpose was to gather samples. He never understood why this deception was necessary; surely a person who had just lost their family to Fade B would be happy to donate whatever fluids and tissues were asked for in an attempt to find a cure.
When Beck finally entered the room, a Sentinel showing her in, she paused just inside the door. They always did. Citizens were used to seeing the Tenets chiseled on the walls of public buildings, but few saw the inside of a chapterhouse, where different societal laws were followed.
“Guard the many,” Beck said, reading the text on the far wall of the room. “I’ve never heard that one.” Her eyes dropped to the side and she gasped, stepping back toward the closed door.
“It’s our guiding principle,” Eshton said, his voice unfiltered by a helmet. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair resting on the other side of the table.
Beck was hesitant, which he expected, as well as curious. Few citizens ever saw one of the Watch without their helmet. She sat, trying to study his face without staring. He knew what she saw.
Medium brown skin, curly black hair trimmed almost down to stubble. A light beard framing full lips below a straight nose and light brown eyes. Cutting across his visage from left temple to right cheek and mercifully sparing his eye from the shallowness of the cut was a thin band of darker flesh. He waved a hand at the scar and smiled. “Feel free to look. I ducked when I should have weaved.”
“How much trouble am I in?” Beck asked, eyes locked on his.
Eshton’s smile widened. “None. You’re going to figure this out on your own, but I’ll just tell you we have protocols for about any circumstance you can think of. If there’s a rule you’ve heard rumors about the Deathwatch having to follow, there’s an exception to it. Special consideration is given to people who lose their family the way you have. It might sound cold, but we let you see the responding Watch member to put a human face on it. Some people need that, especially when recovery means blaming someone.”
Which was true and a lie at the same time. Oh, that was part of the reason. The larger purpose was, as with most things within the Protectorate, psychological manipulation. This was not a surprise to anyone; even the Tenets themselves were a deliberate and open effort to shift the priorities of human thought. A world where the infected nearly wiped out the species required a dedicated, purposeful realignment of culture, one that could not be allowed to happen at the usual glacial pace.
In this case, the point was to let any rage or revenge fantasies center on a known quantity, a human face, rather than the Deathwatch as a whole. Eshton had other reasons in addition to the standard protocol, however.
“I told you,” Beck said, her voice harsh, “I don’t blame you for what happened. It fucking hurts even though I think your doctor dosed me with something to relax me, but I know you were just doing your job.”
Eshton nodded, quietly pleased she had noticed the Halcyon slipped into her system. “You feel that way now, and I believe you’re sincere. But that might not be true tomorrow or a month from now.”
Her gaze was hard. “You read my file, right?”
Eshton seesawed one gauntleted hand. “As much as I could in the time I had. Why?”