A young Knomira who had been spoiled their entire life by their parentals is incarcerated and in therapy. What did they do? Doesn't matter right now. What does matter is helping them realize their path in this life was self-destructive. It didn't help the parentals were one step to getting themselves incarcerated if they didn't stop harassing the therapy center. -- Anon Guest
"You can't do this to me! I know my rights!" There was nothing to throw, and the isolation environment had padded walls, so Des was left with screaming himself hoarse at the person on the other side of the clear wall. It had been quite the performance for several days in a row.
Therapist Kash waited patiently to see if there was any further diatribe. When there wasn't one, he said, "Very good. Now tell me the associated responsibilities."
Utter confusion. "What?"
"Every right comes with an associated responsibility. Your right to clean air, for example, comes with the responsibility to maintain your allotment of the air recycling system. Translated - look after your garden, or pay for someone else's Time to look after it for you."
"That's an outrage!"
"And that opinion is why you are in a Diminished Responsibility Care Environment."
"I WANT MY FREEDOM!" Des screamed. He had given up on trying to punch the walls. Which was thin progress in this case.
"There is no freedom without responsibility. For example, it is my responsibility to make sure you won't injure yourself or others if I clear you for re-integration into society."
"I won't hurt myself, that would be stupid."
"And hurting others?" prompted Kash.
Des seemed to be thinking about this. Lips twitching around his usual rote phrases. All learned from his Knomira parents. Phrases like, It's their job to watch out for me, or, Why should I care about them? did not work in the larger Alliance spaces. He didn't say them, trying to calculate the right words and failing at the math.
Eventually, he sat on the large, padded surface that was his bed and said, "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to learn. You know your rights, and that is a good start. What we want from you is to know and uphold your responsibilities. When you can do that, you may join the Alliance as a respectable citizen."
"I have the right to my freedom," argued Des.
"Freedom to do what, exactly?"
Des fumbled for words. He had the right to proper nutrition, which was supplied as a bland, flavourless, nutrient soup. Served at an inoffensive temperature. He had the right to clean air, which was supplied by the tamper-proof algae farm in the wall. He had the right to adequate rest, provided by the bedding. He had the right to proper exercise, which was a program on the infonet connection that also provided his education.
However, he didn't yet have the freedom to choose what form any of those took.
"I want to choose," he finally said.
"That freedom comes with the responsibility of not harming others. You wish to run? You must choose to do so on a cleared Humans' Jogging Track, or risk frightening Havenworlders or otherwise causing a dangerous panic. Do you understand how it can work?"
"It's not fair," yowled Des.
Not yet. There was always tomorrow.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Oatharts]
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