simple.’
‘Yes, but once a Surplus has been created, is the contravention really its fault?’ a man interjected. ‘After all, it was the parent who made the choice, who contravened the law. I think there is an argument for one of the parents losing their life, and allowing the Surplus to live.’
‘Which parent?’ the woman said dismissively. ‘How could you decide? No, knowingly or otherwise, Surpluses are a contravention of the Declaration and they have to pay for it. I’m sorry, but that’s the only way.’
Peter was standing behind the woman and gradually all her companions turned to stare at him. It took her a minute or so to realise that they were not staring at her, and she shifted in her seat to discover what had attracted their attention.
When she saw Peter, she blushed slightly, then, as if determined to regain her composure, stuck out her chin.
‘It’s Peter, isn’t it?’ she asked coolly.
Peter nodded.
‘Well, Peter. I’m sorry if you didn’t like what you just heard, but these things have to be said. Rules are rules.’
Peter nodded tightly. He couldn’t make a scene, he knew that. He just had to walk away. But he’d never been very good at walking away. ‘Rules,’ he said. ‘Right.’
He was fixed to the spot; he felt Dr Edwards come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. Then his teacher turned to the woman.
‘Perhaps these things are a matter of opinion. I’m not sure that Surpluses have any debt to pay. Their existence is not of their doing, after all.’
The woman looked disconcerted by Dr Edwards’ intervention. ‘That’s not what the Declaration says,’ she said irritably. ‘It’s not a matter of opinion at all. You should know – after all, you’re a scientist. Isn’t science all black and white?’
Dr Edwards smiled gently. ‘Ah, but that’s just the thing. Science teaches us that we are rarely right. The whole discipline of science is aimed at proving ourselves wrong, is it not?’
The woman looked at him archly. ‘You’re very outspoken for a scientist who’s been demoted to ReTraining,’ she said coolly. ‘Then again, I suppose that’s why you’re where you are. But all the same, I’d think before opening your mouth if all you can do is come out with subversive rants about your views on Surpluses. Not everyone will be as tolerant as we are.’
‘Tolerant?’ Dr Edwards asked. ‘Is that what you are?’
‘Yes,’ she said thinly. ‘And I notice the Surplus himself isn’t saying anything.’
Peter bristled, and he gripped his lunch tray, barely able to control himself.
‘Peter is not a Surplus,’ Dr Edwards said quietly. ‘He is an employee of this company, and he deserves a little more respect.’
‘Yes, I know he’s an employee. That’s why this conversation started.’ The woman stared at Dr Edwards for a moment, then her eyes flicked over to the camera in the corner. ‘We all know his mother’s in prison,’ she said, her voice quieter all of a sudden. ‘You know that he’s here because Richard Pincent is his grandfather and felt sorry for him?’
‘She’s not my mother,’ Peter growled, under his breath, moving towards the woman angrily. ‘And I don’t care where she is.’
Dr Edwards grimaced and motioned for Peter to stay where he was.
‘He is here because he has a contribution to make,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Unless you doubt Mr Pincent’s motives? And it is probably not that advisable to go round denouncing his mother. After all, she is Mr Pincent’s daughter.’
The woman’s eyes flickered upwards again, this time towards the bank of cameras positioned along the walls of the dining hall, and she flushed slightly. ‘I was not denouncing her,’ she said, a slight note of stress in her voice. ‘I was just . . . stating a fact. But you’re right, of course. The boy is not a Surplus any more, and I’m sure he’s a very good addition to Pincent Pharma.’ She managed a smile of sorts, then
‘Yes, but once a Surplus has been created, is the contravention really its fault?’ a man interjected. ‘After all, it was the parent who made the choice, who contravened the law. I think there is an argument for one of the parents losing their life, and allowing the Surplus to live.’
‘Which parent?’ the woman said dismissively. ‘How could you decide? No, knowingly or otherwise, Surpluses are a contravention of the Declaration and they have to pay for it. I’m sorry, but that’s the only way.’
Peter was standing behind the woman and gradually all her companions turned to stare at him. It took her a minute or so to realise that they were not staring at her, and she shifted in her seat to discover what had attracted their attention.
When she saw Peter, she blushed slightly, then, as if determined to regain her composure, stuck out her chin.
‘It’s Peter, isn’t it?’ she asked coolly.
Peter nodded.
‘Well, Peter. I’m sorry if you didn’t like what you just heard, but these things have to be said. Rules are rules.’
Peter nodded tightly. He couldn’t make a scene, he knew that. He just had to walk away. But he’d never been very good at walking away. ‘Rules,’ he said. ‘Right.’
He was fixed to the spot; he felt Dr Edwards come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. Then his teacher turned to the woman.
‘Perhaps these things are a matter of opinion. I’m not sure that Surpluses have any debt to pay. Their existence is not of their doing, after all.’
The woman looked disconcerted by Dr Edwards’ intervention. ‘That’s not what the Declaration says,’ she said irritably. ‘It’s not a matter of opinion at all. You should know – after all, you’re a scientist. Isn’t science all black and white?’
Dr Edwards smiled gently. ‘Ah, but that’s just the thing. Science teaches us that we are rarely right. The whole discipline of science is aimed at proving ourselves wrong, is it not?’
The woman looked at him archly. ‘You’re very outspoken for a scientist who’s been demoted to ReTraining,’ she said coolly. ‘Then again, I suppose that’s why you’re where you are. But all the same, I’d think before opening your mouth if all you can do is come out with subversive rants about your views on Surpluses. Not everyone will be as tolerant as we are.’
‘Tolerant?’ Dr Edwards asked. ‘Is that what you are?’
‘Yes,’ she said thinly. ‘And I notice the Surplus himself isn’t saying anything.’
Peter bristled, and he gripped his lunch tray, barely able to control himself.
‘Peter is not a Surplus,’ Dr Edwards said quietly. ‘He is an employee of this company, and he deserves a little more respect.’
‘Yes, I know he’s an employee. That’s why this conversation started.’ The woman stared at Dr Edwards for a moment, then her eyes flicked over to the camera in the corner. ‘We all know his mother’s in prison,’ she said, her voice quieter all of a sudden. ‘You know that he’s here because Richard Pincent is his grandfather and felt sorry for him?’
‘She’s not my mother,’ Peter growled, under his breath, moving towards the woman angrily. ‘And I don’t care where she is.’
Dr Edwards grimaced and motioned for Peter to stay where he was.
‘He is here because he has a contribution to make,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Unless you doubt Mr Pincent’s motives? And it is probably not that advisable to go round denouncing his mother. After all, she is Mr Pincent’s daughter.’
The woman’s eyes flickered upwards again, this time towards the bank of cameras positioned along the walls of the dining hall, and she flushed slightly. ‘I was not denouncing her,’ she said, a slight note of stress in her voice. ‘I was just . . . stating a fact. But you’re right, of course. The boy is not a Surplus any more, and I’m sure he’s a very good addition to Pincent Pharma.’ She managed a smile of sorts, then
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