Deathwatch (The Faded Earth Book 1)(72)



When the Movement’s priority shifted toward the immediate goal of stopping Fade B over the long term plan of curing the Fade itself, the sheer size of the thing had never been this clear. She worked on the pieces and parts, her duties not much more than a single gear in the machine. An important, perhaps vital, gear, but still only one. The idea of stopping the spread of Fade B and preventing any other people from going through what she had was too big. It remained a nebulous abstract until an hour ago when the concept solidified into reality and dropped in her lap.

Too many facets of tonight would eat at her. The men she had killed without mercy or hesitation. The members of the enemy cells taken into custody and the families torn apart by it. The powerful yet invisible hand behind the still incomprehensible plot to sow fear with Fade B. Surely it couldn’t all be about maintaining power, could it? What kind of person believed in the social order as it was strongly enough that they would sacrifice tens of thousands to maintain it so rigidly?

Ah, but you killed to save lives tonight, she told herself. And in the process of retrieving the data, hadn’t she ruined any chance Remy would have at a normal life?

Those things weren’t planned. At worst they were accidental. Yet the intent didn’t matter, did it? Beck worked to save lives, even if it meant doing harm in the process.

The difference, she realized, was that the Deathwatch never let itself forget the distinction. They—and she, as one of them—always carried with them the consequences of their choices. Doing the least harm while maintaining order was so deeply ingrained in them that it might as well be religion. The enemy cared not a whit for the damage they did or the lives they took.

And so she carried on a conversation that touched on none of this because avoidance was the last bastion of a broken heart. Beck wanted nothing more than to sleep. She craved it like a drunk wanted liquor. No more thinking about the ghosts of her family or the frustration that no one had stopped Fade B before. No more rage at the enemy for using it as a weapon in the first place. No more worry about what came next, because something would.

She had no illusions the stolen information would be the end of it. They might—might—have stopped Fade B, but the enemy was entirely too careful. Beck doubted the information would lead all the way up the chain.

But it was a victory. More of one than she could have ever hoped for when she first agreed to join the Deathwatch and the Movement.

For now, it would be enough.





Epilogue


She had been warned to remain silent no matter what was said in the meeting, and Bowers was serious enough when giving the order that Beck switched off her external speakers. Her channel to Eshton remained open, but she doubted he would say much. He was just as much a fly on the wall for the council session as she was. They had both demanded the right to work as Bowers’ personal guard.

The old man himself stood without armor, his uniform crisp and black yet lacking any adornments other than the shield, sword, and gear emblem of the Deathwatch itself. No sign of rank, no medals or insignia. It was a message: this is what I am. I come to you in judgment.

Beck stood at the left side of the door, Eshton on the right. They listened to Bowers lay out the facts for nearly half an hour without stopping.

The revelation about Fade B was met with a mix of reactions from shock to stony rage. More outright anger presented itself when Bowers detailed the attacks on the distribution infrastructure of medicine in the Protectorate.

“These were breakers of Tenet law,” Bowers said in a ringing, authoritative voice over a rising babble of protest. “These men and women worked to spread death among the citizenry. The charter clearly cedes this firmly into Deathwatch jurisdiction. We had not only the right, but a responsibility to cut this cancer free.”

Gloria Chen, the head of civilian Science, looked deeply troubled. Weeks had passed, so she of course knew most of this already. Beck had a poor grasp of politics—and if she were being honest with herself, the kind of human nature required to climb the rungs of power—but even she understood the purpose of this meeting was not to inform.

It was to create accountability, as Bowers put it. Really, it was to scare the living shit out of every member of the council. Those who might have known about the conspiracy would already be on guard after having the legs cut out from under their organization. They would take precautions against the Watch.

But those present who were innocent would add to the pressure. They would not sit idly by and allow the enemy to regain their footing. Bowers was putting his head on the block by speaking so plainly, and he was doing it to gather as much support as possible.

This had not been the original plan, but the stolen data changed everything. Detailed shipping reports, research documents, chains of messages back and forth, and a hundred other kinds of documents from the outright damning to the ostensibly mundane all pointed to an uncomfortable truth.

No division of the Protectorate’s government had clean hands in this. Not a single one. Every major department contained at least a handful of people involved whether they assisted in distribution or provided security. The Deathwatch was no exception, though it was much harder to find disloyal Watchmen. Walking around in technology all day created hyper-awareness of how easily information could be tracked. So far only half a dozen of sloppy Watchmen had been confirmed to be involved, but no one thought it would end there.

Bowers was telling the rest of the council that he would tend to his own house and that they should tend to theirs. It was a pretty trap; any division that didn’t show at least some movement in hunting down and ousting the guilty would draw the attention of the Deathwatch. That would provide Bowers with the pretext he needed to send in his loyal Movement agents and scour those divisions clean. Nor could they simply find scapegoats with no ties to the conspiracy and offer them up as sacrifices. The Deathwatch inquisitors, made up of Enforcement agents including Eshton, would scrutinize everyone named and demand proof.

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