The Redistribution Mandate
"When will you untie the knot in your heart?!"
Emi lifted her head as her mother stood up from the cold metal desk. Nina's temper was usually felt more than heard, but she had too little time left on earth for inefficiencies with bureaucracy.
"Look, sir. I have three, maybe four months left to live. This may be a job to you, but this is my daughter's life we're talking about."
The judge took off his glasses, rubbing the corners of his eyes in an inauthentic gesture of pensiveness.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't have the authority to single-handedly override the Redistribution Mandate, even in the case of terminal illness."
Emi's eyes traveled to the judge. She traced his movements, drawing the outlines of her future as it came closer into view.
"Rest assured, Emilia's basic needs and safety will be met when she becomes a ward after you pass."
As with all children, Emi was endowed with fine awareness of the emotional landscape of her mother. With her gaze locked into the judge's half-covered neckline, Emi eyes tiptoed into the first layers of his skin in search of a heartbeat. She imagined taking a knife to him to end the scene, but she immediately knew the idea wasn't her own. Emi's pain radiated at the same frequency as Nina's rage.
"Sir, let me ask you a question." Nina titled slightly over the desk, her fingers tenting against the metal for stability. Her years as an only child had taught her that there was eventually a yes behind the no.
She cocked her head with strategic empathy. "Do you have a family of your own?"
"I do, ma'am. One daughter and one son."
"Then you must be familiar yourself with not just the NERE evidence, but the goals behind it?" Nina had done her homework about the experiment in Northern Europe that had inspired the Mandate.
"Where are you going with this, Ms. Ayala?"
"NERE now has 120 years of data, and the conclusion remains clear. When we remove inheritance loopholes that benefit adult children and reallocate individual's leftover earnings to the general population for social services, the percentage of people living below the poverty line dramatically decreases. But there's no such evidence for children whose parents have died."
"Ma'am, I'm aware of the research. And it's why I'm saying I cannot single-handedly overturn a country-wide Mandate without the preponderance of evidence that this case has impact at the population level."
Nina took a deep breath.
"Sir, are you saying that I have to show that my death impacts more than my own child, who has already lost one parent on behalf of this country's negligence?"
"Yes, ma'am, substantially more. The goal of the Mandate is reversal of generations of inequity. If we make exceptions for one person, you must understand that that only breeds further inequity...it's a slippery slope."
Emi's eyes welled up. She felt hopeless watching her mom fighting two battles in her final months: one with cancer, and one with the State. But her sadness went deeper, a river of bone marrow that she had no role in creating yet she seemed to be the source of feeding.
"Mom, let's go, it's not worth it." Emi gestured at the limp purse that melted on the floor. A few pens and a ratty looking period pad spilled out the edge.
"Not yet, sweetheart." Nina sat back down, pulling the chair in from underneath her before clearing her throat.
"Sir, respectfully. Just a few more questions."
"Yes, ma'am."
"What is your daughter's name?"
"Annie."
"Wonderful, what a beautiful name. And, sir, what do you see as the tipping point for when Annie's life matters enough? Is it when a couple people are sad if she dies? Or when her friends start drinking in high school because of it, and one of them gets in a car crash, killing two others? Or is it — "
The judge interrupted her. "Ma'am, this is inappropriate, and you've already exceeded your appointment time limit for today."
Emi felt the presence of the security guards approach as they motioned to head towards the door. She hooked her arm around her mother's and set the direction with purpose.
Nina's force counteracted. "Sir, since you don't quite know if your own daughter can impact a population, look here and remember this: mine will."
The door shut behind them, and Emi turned towards her mother with a doubtful stare.