She had changed over the weeks, grown somehow.
“You’re using my own words against me now?” John said, feeling lighter than he had felt in weeks.
“It only works because you believe it. Because it’s real, what you and I have. And it’s worth fighting for. I’m just sorry it took me so long to realize it. But it can’t be one-sided. You have to want it too.”
“It’s not going to be easy,” John said.
Morgan smiled. “Nothing worthwhile ever is.”
The men filed into the Council chambers—a grand, marble room housed in a grand, marble building. The Council held these meetings at least once a week. The discussion was usually the same. They would argue for hours over the problems of Haven, only to come to the same conclusion—there was no conclusion. And so, no working solution was ever reached.
That would not be the case today.
Arthur Loughlin waited outside the chamber doors as councilman after councilman walked by and took their places in the pews running along both sides of the room. Although not a councilman himself, as a member of the famous Original Team that established the revolutionary laws of Haven, he was an honorary member of sorts and would drop in from time to time if the topic of discussion seemed important enough, using the weight of his opinion when necessary to change the tide of a discussion on a dime.
Three chairs perched at the head of the room, reserved for Ezekiel Kingsley, Jeremiah Abbott, and Zacharias Townsend—the Council Elders. The Elders conducted the meetings and ultimately decided whether these discussions would be made into law.
Almost all of the chamber seats were filled, with a few exceptions, one of which belonged to the man whose presence Loughlin most counted on.
Algernon Bell walked into the corridor. Upon seeing Loughlin, he stopped and signaled for Loughlin to join him in an adjoining hallway. They skipped the formalities of congratulating each other on upcoming weddings or recent pregnancies in the family, the topics most politicians liked to stick to outside the Council chambers.
“I’ve talked to Fitzroy and Beaumont,” Bell whispered, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no one else was listening. “They’ve agreed to vote with us at today’s meeting.”
“That gives us the majority,” Loughlin said. “But will that be enough to persuade the Elders?”
“It should be. Kingsley has Abbott in his pocket, so he’ll vote with Kingsley no matter what. But Kingsley’s a purist at heart. If we can show him the rest of the Council members want our proposal, he’ll vote with the majority out of obligation.”
“I don’t like this, Algernon,” Loughlin whispered. “We’re putting too much to chance. Perhaps we should postpone the vote, make sure we’re certain we have the Elders on our side before we open up the floor to discussion.”
“If you’re talking about asking for personal favors, you’d be wasting your time. Kingsley wouldn’t lend you a cup of water even if your house was on fire. Did you hear what happened to Councilman Bishop? His daughter got caught trying to cheat on her written evaluation, so, naturally, Bishop went to Kingsley for help, asked him to pull a few strings. Bishop’s now in jail, his daughter is in the asylum getting sterilized as we speak, while the rest of his family is begging for spare change down by the bridge. This is as good a chance as we’re ever going to get. Just remember what we rehearsed.”
“I know how to handle the Council,” said Loughlin.
“Don’t get overly confident just yet. Remember your place, Arthur. Remember who it is that makes the laws around here.”
Loughlin leaned towards Bell, his eyes narrowed to daggers. “And you would do well to remember who it was that wrote those laws in the first place and who it is that’s currently covering your ass.”
“Just make sure you give the best speech of your life in there today and let me worry about the Elders.” Bell cleared his throat as he stepped away from Loughlin, “or we’ll both end up just like Bishop. Or worse, we’ll end up like Theodore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Loughlin. “What happened to Theodore will be nothing compared to what will happen to us.”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, gentlemen,” a voice said from behind them, causing both Bell and Loughlin to wheel around. “I just had to come over and introduce myself.”
The boy standing in front of Arthur couldn’t have been much older than one of his sons. Although Loughlin had never seen him at these meetings before, he did look vaguely familiar, and the white Loughlin Research Facility lab coat he wore quickly told Loughlin from where. A wide grin stretched across his face and he held a stack of papers in one hand while holding out the other towards Loughlin.
Shaking his hand, Loughlin asked, “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“My name is Dr. George Goodell,” the boy said, shaking Loughlin’s hand enthusiastically.
“It’s nice to meet you, George. I’m—”
“Dr. Arthur Loughlin. I know,” he said beaming. “Member of the Original Team, the father of modern genetics, and the genius behind the Genetic Fitness Evaluation. It is such an honor to meet you. I can’t believe I’m here, shaking your hand. You are my hero. You’re the reason I got into medicine in the first place.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Loughlin said, pulling his hand away from George. “Is this your first time attending a Council meeting?”
“It is,” George said. “I’ll be giving a short address and would love it if you would stay and watch.”
Loughlin nodded.
“Excellent. Thank you so much, sir. And again, such an honor to meet you,” George said and sped into the chamber.
Once the councilmen had all taken their place in the pews, the meeting could finally begin. Loughlin took his usual seat in the gallery and waited for Bell to call on him to give his presentation. While the agenda for today’s meeting was read, Loughlin scanned the room. All the usual faces were here today, and, of course, George.
The meeting was turned over to Councilman Bell, who introduced the same problem the Council had been facing for ages—the troubling number of unfits in Haven, a number that seemed to be steadily rising, and the colossal issue that had simply been nicknamed ‘the resource problem.’
He reviewed the same statistics the Council had heard time and again. Too much money was being spent on efforts that yielded no profit. The hospitals, the asylum, the poor houses, the prisons, the restoration and maintenance of the wall—they were all proving too much of a financial burden and Haven just couldn’t keep up.
“Something has to change,” Bell continued. “And I think an answer may have finally revealed itself. I now give the floor to Dr. Arthur Loughlin.”
The focus of the room simultaneously shifted to Loughlin as he rose from his seat.
“Thank you, Councilman Bell,” Loughlin said, buttoning his jacket as he stepped out into the middle of the floor. He looked up at the Council Elders, sitting directly above him in the center of the chamber, all three adorned in their ceremonial gowns, the white fabric almost blinding under the reflection of the harsh light—three angels of destruction glowering down at Loughlin, waiting to pass judgment.
Loughlin cleared his throat. “He’s right. Haven has undertaken too many expenditures as of late. Each of the institutions Councilman Bell addressed is extremely taxing on the people. The asylum itself requires a vast amount of resources every day just to operate. But such institutions are a necessary evil, so we must turn our attention on what we can change.
“The Genetic Fitness Evaluation, while invaluable, is extremely expensive, an expense which I can’t help but feel responsible for. Gathering every citizen of Haven who is of age every four years is a huge undertaking. A worthy undertaking, but a costly one, nonetheless. And so many of those tests have proven unnecessary. I believe it is time to make the process more efficient by limiting our focus to those we know pose a potential risk for being unfit. Therefore, my proposal to you today is that we reduce the number of c
itizens needed to be screened by waiving the mandatory screening of Haven’s more affluent and prestigious families.”
Murmurs erupted throughout the chamber.
“Just so we’re clear, Dr. Loughlin, who exactly would be exempt in your proposal? Because it sounds like you are suggesting we excuse all of Northridge from the Genetic Fitness Evaluation,” said Elder Abbott. He sat directly to Elder Kingsley’s left, his stance permanently bowed towards Kingsley, poised at the ready right beside his ear.
“Not all of it,” Loughlin replied. “Just those families who have already proven themselves fit generation after generation. Doctors, scientists, Council members, and likewise.”
Scattered applause echoed throughout the chambers.
“I am with Dr. Loughlin,” one councilman said, his voice raised to be heard above the crowd. It was Councilman Beaumont, one of the Council members Bell had guaranteed would support their proposal. “Restoring the wall has turned out to be more of an undertaking than previously anticipated. Between that, the population boom, and the alarming unemployment rate in Southend, the added revenue from the most recent tax increase still isn’t enough. It’s time to trim the fat and reducing the number of needed screenings would help.”
“Just for the sake of being thorough,” Elder Kingsley said, his fingers interlaced under his chin, “what other programs could be eliminated?”
“We’ve gone over this week after week,” another Council member spoke out. “The next biggest expense is Emerson Asylum, but the cost of keeping the asylum running is well worth it if it keeps those degenerates off our streets.”
The response from the Council couldn’t be better even if it was rehearsed, which Loughlin suspected it was. Bell didn’t like to leave anything up to chance.
“We come around again to the proposal that we excuse certain families from the screening process,” Bell said, “which, in my opinion, is sounding more and more like our best option.”
“I would have to agree,” Elder Townsend said, speaking for the first time since the meeting began. He sat on Elder Kingsley’s right, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in his chair.
“Then let us vote,” Bell said. “All in favor.”
Several hands shot up at once, followed by several slightly hesitant votes until each Council member began to raise his hand.
“I’m so sorry for the interruption,” a tentative voice said from the back of the room. Dozens of eyes turned in unison, coming to rest on the boy who had now interfered with Loughlin’s dealings twice in one day. “But if I could just have a minute of your time before you put this to a vote—”
“And who are you?” Elder Townsend asked.
“My name is Dr. George Goodell, I’m a researcher at Loughlin Laboratories.” He bowed slightly. “And I think I might have an idea worth discussing.”
“I’m sorry, but only members of the Council are permitted to speak at this meeting,” said Bell, his eyes narrowing.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elder Kingsley said, holding up his hand to silence Bell. “The Council always welcomes fresh perspectives. Go ahead, Doctor.”
“Well,” George continued, “my idea also concerns the Genetic Fitness Evaluation screening process, and while I agree there are major flaws,” he said, glancing nervously towards Loughlin, “I don’t believe that excusing citizens just because they’re rich or powerful is the most effective solution.”
“Go on,” Kingsley urged. Bell was glaring at George now, his body tensing more with each word that spewed from George’s mouth.
George breathed in deeply. “With all due respect,” he said, “the screening process is completely ineffective for one key reason—those targeted for screening are too old. By the time we sterilize the unfit, a large percentage of them have already reproduced, completely defeating the purpose of the program in the first place. Just the other week the authorities arrested an unfit who had already fathered nearly half a dozen kids back in Southend.”
“That’s why we passed the law that all pregnancies must be reported immediately,” Loughlin said.
“A completely unenforceable law many Southend residents don’t follow,” George argued. “Unfits are like rabbits, spreading their incompetence and idiocy to the next generation before we even have a chance to stop it. The current system requires citizens to be honest and report illegal pregnancies, but why would they when they know reporting it might lead to a compulsory abortion? Their negligence requires doctors and guards to check up on the legality of every pregnancy they come across, an extremely time-consuming and, therefore, expensive task. And even if citizens do the right thing and report it themselves, it’s just another expensive procedure Haven has to pay for. It’s not just Southend,” George said, rifling through the stack of papers in his arms. “One in three Northridge residents are married by the age of nineteen and the majority of those have their first child within a year, before they even take the fitness evaluation,” he said, holding his copy of the study up into the air. Loughlin remembered that study. He had helped author it. And now this little mongrel was trying to use it against him.
“That’s a simple enough oversight to correct,” Loughlin said, turning his back on George to address the Council. “We can pass a restriction that requires every citizen to complete their evaluation before they will be allowed to marry.”
“That’s good in theory,” George said, forcing Loughlin to turn and acknowledge him again, “but I’m afraid it would prove to be yet another unenforceable law. If we want to make a change, I believe the most effective solution would be to start testing citizens before they reach reproductive age. For the screening process to be effective again, we need to target a younger age group.”
“And how young were you thinking, Dr. Goodell?” Loughlin said.
“As young as possible,” he replied.
“Are you proposing we test infants?” Loughlin scoffed, cueing laughs from many of the Council members. “And how exactly are infants supposed to take the written portion of the evaluation, Doctor?”
“I am not suggesting infants take a written test, but they can undergo the blood test and a modified version of the physical examination. By the time they’re six or seven, we can give them the written test,” George replied.
“Most Southend children aren’t even literate by the age of seven,” one Council member pointed out.
“Then it’ll be easy to determine exactly who needs to be weeded out,” George responded.
“This is insanity. You can’t possibly be suggesting we screen and sterilize children. The public will never allow it,” Bell said. “The reason we made the age restrictions what they are in the first place is because screening young adults sounds far more reasonable than subjecting children to this kind of testing. The people aren’t going to react well if we demand they let us screen their children.”
“I am simply presenting you with the facts,” George replied, “and the facts are that waiting until someone reaches adulthood to screen them is ineffective. I believe this, coupled with the continued implementation of stricter procedures for handling results, will solve both the resource and population problem.”
“He does make a good point,” Elder Townsend chimed in for the second time.
“And when would you want to implement this idea, Dr. Goodell?” Kingsley asked.
“As soon as possible.”
“You can’t honestly be considering this,” Bell protested.
“And as far as what the public will or won’t allow,” George said, “you’re the Council. They’ll allow whatever you tell them to allow.”
Loughlin was almost impressed by the boy’s gumption. Almost. And what little admiration he did feel was heavily outweighed by annoyance.
“We will have another uprising on our hands, I guarantee it,” Bell stated.
“You’re intelligent, persuasive politicians,” George smiled. “I trust you can find a way to make it sound more agreeable.”
�
��Gentlemen,” Loughlin said, desperately trying to take back control of the situation. “I would be remiss if I didn’t voice my objection. George here is a low-level research technician at my lab. I don’t think it would be wise to take the advice of an inexperienced child.”
“Taking the advice of a so-called ‘inexperienced child,’ as you put it, has always served Haven well in the past,” Goodell said, his face beginning to turn red. “You were no older than I am when you proposed the Genetic Fitness Evaluation. We all thank you, and the rest of the Original Team, for your help saving the city all of those years ago, Dr. Loughlin, but things are different now. It’s time to let the next generation fix your mistakes.”
“Mistakes?” Loughlin scoffed.
“Gentlemen, please.” Bell lowered his voice and turned to the Elders, “I believe supporting this plan would prove foolish. You should reconsider Dr. Loughlin’s Northridge proposal. We have already made all the arrangements and executing it would have no additional cost. Dr. Goodell’s idea is expensive at best.”
“We can’t be afraid of taking on additional expenses if it will save us in the end,” Elder Townsend argued.
Bell’s breathing began to accelerate dangerously close to hyperventilation as a bead of sweat rolled down his brow. “Then perhaps we can combine the two proposals,” Bell said. “Make them work in tandem. We screen children, but we excuse the children of high-profile citizens.”
“I’m going to be honest with you, Bell,” Elder Kingsley replied. “I don’t like the Northridge proposal. It’s lazy, unimaginative, and lacks the appearance of neutrality the Council has been struggling to reinstate ever since the rebellion. Continuing the mandatory screening of every citizen, regardless of class, will serve as an act of good faith to the low-borns. Especially with all the rumors that have started going around.”
“We already addressed how to end the tampering rumors,” Bell said, his voice increasing in both volume and speed, “which, by the way, most Northridge citizens are furious about. They fear switching from a confidential, number-based system to a public one that attaches their actual names to their results is an invasion of privacy.”
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