Weekly Drabble #355: Scion (Patreon)

This week's prompt comes from Framing Device with 'social prosperity disorder'. Enjoy!

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Scion:

“You told us to come back with a warrant,” Citizens’ Representative Amir Kusch said smugly, standing in the lobby of Hauptmann Institute for Biomedical Research and Integrated Therapy Solutions. “So I have.” Gentle muzak played over the gurgling and splashing of the decorative waterfall, mixed in with nature sounds to facilitate a sense of serenity and calm.

Calm that doctor Samuel Pelmier, director of the Hauptmann Institute’s Special Interventions Department, was certainly not feeling. “So I see.” The tall, bald man adjusted his spectacles. He was allergic to retin-force and had not yet elected to undergo laser surgery. He thought the glasses gave him a seasoned, experienced look. Addy teased him by saying he looked ‘archaic’. He glanced at the Representative and to the two additional Security, Safety and Public Responsibility men he’d brought with him. Thugs, he thought distastefully, but he kept any trace of that displeasure from his face. “May I?”

He held out a hand and Kusch haughtily slapped the papers into his palm. Pelmier unfolded the warrant and quickly scanned it before handing it off to Jonathan Siegler, the Hauptmann Institute’s chief legal counsel. Kusch frowned as if insulted, or merely annoyed that a judge’s stamp wasn’t authority enough. Pelmier didn’t care, waiting in silence. He already knew what Siegler would say, but there was still a chance some i’s had not been dotted nor t’s crossed.

Siegler finished his review. “It appears to be in order.”

“Thank you,” Pelmier replied as he handed the warrant back to Kusch. “I would like it noted, however, that I object to this in the strongest possible terms.”

“As you like, doctor. I’ll enter that in the official record.” There was a slight catch in those last two words as if official record were something to be concerned about. Sadly, it was. “I must say, I am confused at your continued defence of an enemy of the regime.”

“Potential enemy,” Pelmier corrected. “As far as I am aware, Ms. Layson has not been convicted, nor even charged with any crime and statements to the contrary are not only premature, but could be construed as prejudicial.”

Kusch’s eyes narrowed. He was a young man, barely thirty years old, but every soft edge had been filed down to a hard, unyielding surface by the Regime. “Are you Ms. Layson’s lawyer now, doctor?”

“No, I am her primary caregiver and thus, responsible for her physical and mental well-being. In matters of law, since the government did not answer our requests to assign a legal guardian to Ms. Layson, the Institute has appointed Mr. Siegler as our patient’s lawyer. He will be representing her legal interests.”

The Representative took another look at Siegler, his expression darkening. “So noted.”

Neither Siegler nor Pelmier commented further on the situation; the Layson family was quite wealthy and they had had a large number of powerful lawyers on retainer to handle any civil, criminal or other legal issues that might spring up.

Was. Had.

Tiffany Layson was now the last remaining member of that once-great family, and there were no lawyers left to take her case. Most of them had severed ties with the family, but a few – too loyal or too stained by past associations, did not escape the Regime’s justice. Or what they called justice.

That too, was something Dr. Pelmier did not make mention of.

“Very well,” he said, gesturing to a pair of orderlies to accompany them. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to Ms. Layson.”

Kusch paused at the doors to the Institute’s Therapy wing as Pelmier led him past it. It was where the facility tended to its patients via medical and psychological treatments. “Are we not going in here?”

“No, Representative Kusch. This way, please.” Samuel led the SSPR men into the Biological Study and Analysis wing, swiping his card through security lock after lock. “Ms. Layson’s case is... unique and requires very specific treatment. It was learned early on that she couldn’t be placed with other patients.”

“Then it sounds like we’re doing you a favour taking her off your hands,” Kusch observed. “I don’t understand why you’re fighting so hard to keep her in your care. The family’s illegal wealth has already been redistributed. They can’t pay you to protect her.”

“It’s not about money,” Pelmier corrected the younger man. “The Institute has been willing to cover all expenses related to Ms. Layson’s care since her arrival here. The Laysons provided additional funding and support for our work, but they were not the only donors we had, nor even the largest.”

“Then what is it about?” Kusch asked with a condescending expression that was both a sarcastic sneer and a suspicious leer, as if he already knew – or believed he knew – the answer. The millions the Laysons had poured into the Hauptmann Institute were of course the reason why Ms. Layson had been coddled and kept away from the consequences of her own actions and social responsibilities for half a decade.

“The rights of a patient,” Samuel told him as he entered an elevator, sliding his ID card through the reader and then inserting a key to unlock access to the lower levels. “The rights of a human being. I fear this idea is being lost, Representative Kusch. If we do not protect the rights of an individual – any individual – than we do not protect the rights of anyone.”

“Traitors to the Regime and criminals deserve no rights,” the young man snapped back. “It is the duty of the state to punish them for the damage they have caused to society.”

“And what crimes could a young woman, kept away from the world for more than five years, have possibly committed?”

“It was all laid out in the warrant, but if you want specifics, then first and foremost, her participation in the Starborn Excellence disaster must be re-examined.”

“As I recall, that tragedy was already investigated and the case was closed.”

“New facts have come to light.”

“And what are those?” Siegler interrupted.

Kusch tilted his head towards the lawyer. “New facts,” he repeated. “You’ll be made aware of the full list of charges and evidence once your... client,” he said the word as if it were distasteful to him, “is brought to court. She must also answer for participating in her family’s illegal accumulation and hoarding of wealth.”

“She was eighteen at the time of the Starborn Excellence disaster, and then immediately remanded to our care,” Pelmier pointed out. “A minor until then. What culpability would she have for her family’s actions?”

“That is what the trial will determine.”

In other words, you need yet another head on a spike. “I see. Well, we’re almost here. Before we go farther, how well were you briefed on Ms. Layson’s... condition?”

“Enough to know that the penitentiary system will be equipped to meet whatever needs you feel Ms. Layson has.” Kusch tried to provide a reassuring smile. It felt like a vulture grinning at the mother of a fawn it was staring at. “Your worry is misplaced, doctor. I, of course, cannot speak for the court, but I am confident that Ms. Layson’s age will be accounted for at sentencing. She won’t suffer the same fate as the rest of her family and their fellow criminal traitors.”

Samuel nodded. He had no doubt the young man’s assurances were offered in good faith, but life in prison for the crime of being born to the wrong family... well, there was justice and then there was ‘justice’, wasn’t there? Especially in this case. Someone in the Regime had to know the truth of Tiffany Layson’s condition and they either didn’t care, planned to somehow use it to their advantage or against one of their fellow citizen peers. Kusch was just a willing pawn.

There were two doors in front of him. Both were heavy and secrurely locked, requiring, card, key and biometrics to open. One led to Tiffany Layson’s chambers, the other to an observation room that looked into them. He opened the latter door, ushering Siegler and Kusch in. The orderlies and SSPR thugs waited outside.

The room beyond the one-way mirror was dark, lit only by dim red light. You could just make out various shapes within; the corners of a bed, the edges of a sink, the lines of chairs. Inside, something moved. It could have been the slow stalking of a leopard. It could have been the slithering of a snake. “We’ve made a lot of progress in five years,” Samuel explained. “But she still has good days and bad days. Today is one of her bad days.” He pressed the intercom. “Tiffany? It’s Dr. Pelmier.”

There was a wet, heavy exhalation. “What,” a raspy young woman’s voice answered. It sounded like every syllable was an effort to form, “are you doing here?”

“The men I told you about are here.”

Another unpleasant, liquid sound. “Send them away.”

“That’s not a choice you can make,” Kusch said, stepping up to the mic. “I am Citizens’ Representative Kusch of the Security, Safety and Public Responsibility and I have a warrant for your arrest.”

More uncertain movement. The clicking of something hard on the floor. A low, rising hiss. “You killed my parents.”

“Your parents were duly tried and convicted for crimes against the Regime and the people. Your part in their actions must be properly-”

“Get. Out,” every word seemed to be even more of a struggle for the unseen woman. “Of. Here.”

“Resisting arrest will not go well for you, Ms. Layson-” Pelmier cut the intercom off. Kusch glared at him. “Neither will obstruction for you, doctor.”

“You still don’t seem to understand,” Samuel said. “So maybe it’s time I shed some light on Ms. Layson’s condition and what happened aboard Starborn Excellence.” He moved to a panel with several dimmer sliders, slowly bringing the lights in Tiffany’s room up.

As her chambers slowly illuminated, they revealed the room’s sole occupant. Siegler had seen Tiffany before, but he still flinched at the sight, inhaling sharply. From Kusch, though... Pelmier heard a sudden, shocked intake of breath from the Representative and watched the blood drain from his face as he rose one black glove to his mouth.

“I think you’re starting to understand,” Samuel told him, his hand hovering one set of controls. “But I also know you have a duty to perform, so,” he caught the younger man’s eyes, holding them steadily. “Shall I open the doors?”