One theme I wanted to explore in the first Deacon Carver book was how bureaucracy weighs down organizations. One of my key scenes for demonstrating that was in Deacon’s onboarding process, where he confronts the concept of “cost-to-company.”
Now, late in the development of this story, I realize that this theme may be one too many to try to carry, and really, this scene in particular serves no other plot purpose than to highlight the theme.
So, here, for your enjoyment is the most-likely-deleted onboarding scene.
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The ship’s bursar handed Deacon a tablet.
“What’s this?”
“Compensation package. You need to agree and give banking details.”
“That…” Dee looked at Char with a newfound respect. “You make that much working for the IU?”
“No, no, no,” The bursar interrupted. “This is our cost-to-company of keeping you. From that we’ll deduct IU income tax, the cost of your billet and meals, the cost of transporting you around, medical coverage, sundry other expenses like uniforms and port entry taxes.”
“Wait, so how much of this do I end up getting?”
“Next screen.”
“What? That’s like next to nothing.” Deacon looked over the numbers carefully. “So you’re going to give me this, then take back twenty percent off the top for income tax. Then you’re going to deduct costs that I can’t control…. You’re going to force me to absorb costs that I might be able to source cheaper,” Deacon saw a look of puzzlement, “Medical Insurance? That’s a hell of a premium you’re charging. I could get better for cheaper.”
“But our sickbays and medical facilities only accept one insurer: This one.”
“So in the end, my take-home pay is eighteen percent of … what did you call it?”
“Cost-to-company.” Char spoke softly. She remembered her anger when she’d seen these numbers.
“Cost-to-company.” Deacon concluded.
“We do feed you and keep you safe.” The clerk pointed out.
“So if I eat elsewhere I can get reimbursed?”
“No.”
“If you don’t keep me safe, I can get reimbursed?”
“No. But it’s good medical insurance. If we can’t fix you we’ll find someone who can, and you won’t pay for it.”
“If you can’t fix me, it’ll be because I’m dead.” He turned to Char.
“Seriously, why do you put up with this?”
“I was under arrest when they recruited me. The alternative…I didn’t really have one. You do, though. You can walk away. But honestly, you don’t really have any expenses while onboard, so even though it’s only a little, you save almost all of it.”
“Save? I’ve got…” Deacon chose to pick his next words carefully. “It’s less than day’s work from my old job. Now it’s a month’s take-home pay?”
Char chuckled, responded to a ping from her infopad. “I’ve got to go. Come to my office when you’re done here.”
“Can you supply a recognised financial institution with an account in your name?” The clerk continued, oblivious to Char’s departure. “Otherwise we’d have to hold it in escrow for you until such as time as you’re discharged, at which point we can give you a lump sum with interest. You can borrow against that escrow as needed, say, when in port.”
“From what I hear, the IU is dying. Anything held in escrow will be bad debt.”
“Be that as it may, this is how we function. Do you have a financial institution you want to register with us?” Dee shook his head. He wasn’t letting these people anywhere near his finances.
The clerk held the tablet up for Deacon’s thumb print.
“Idiots,” Dee muttered under his breath as he pressed his thumb. “And now I’m one of them.”