intention with or without you – I need some LLE Research 101.”
Chris hesitated for the first time. “Karen met Bedford when she was lobbying for the Laws; Bedford was lobbying on the other side, for laissez-faire. I’ll never forget what she said about him. ‘He epitomizes the worst. He’s only had twelve years of Longevity and already he’s addicted, convinced of his own entitlement. He has almost no fellow feeling with the rest of humanity. We have to protect ourselves from him, and protect ourselves from becoming like him. He will never, never accept his own mortality.’”
Chris gave Livvy a moment to try to comprehend an ego so strong that although Bedford experienced childhood knowing that he would die, any acceptance of that fate was now alien to him.
“But,” Livvy said hesitantly, “where’s the connection to Josephson? I don’t doubt Karen’s assessment, or that Bedford’s bound to get involved with hotlabs, but…”
“Josephson and Bedford know each other.”
“Bedford is a client of Josephson’s? That’s clear, then.”
“No. At least, not currently. Bedford wouldn’t risk that kind of association. In fact, the only proof I can find that they ever even met is from appointment records from a reset clinic that burned down in ’51. The Greater Potomac Reset Institute. The appointment records show that Bedford saw Josephson quarterly for two years. Then the Institute burned down, and there’s been no record of any contact since, at least that I’ve been able to find. The fire was indistinguishable from any other reset clinic fire, but no religious group or Naturals Only group ever claimed credit for it.”
“An unexplained fire. Hardly unique. McGregor, if you want me to stay awake while we take a tour through some ancient history,” Livvy said, “would it be okay if we took Louie for a walk at the same time? Some fresh air would be nice.” She gave him a beatific smile.
Chris hesitated briefly, then said, “Sure.” He stood up but then sat back down.
“Are you up for this?” he asked. “It’s going to get complicated, and the rest can wait.”
Livvy made a face and stood up, which drew him back to his feet. “McGregor, just give me the information. I take it you actively searched for this connection, because you thought Josephson and Bedford are well mated, and then you looked for evidence that they were hiding their relationship. You have a very suspicious mind, which is maybe why you’re a lot older than you look. I want everything you have, including how you got here. I may get a headache, but I’ll process it. I just need some fresh air, and to think for a minute.”
They were out of the building and half way down the block before either of them said something more.
“This is nice,” Livvy said. They’d passed under a streetlamp and she took the opportunity to look up at the stars before they reached the next one. Mature oaks and maples lined the sidewalk and shaded the park and playground across the street. They headed in that direction.
Louie waited at the street corner, but after they had crossed together, Chris said, “Go ahead, boy, ” and Louie headed out at a gallop, stopping occasionally to sniff when his interest was captured. Chris led Livvy far enough into the park that they could stand under one of the trees, out of the illumination of the streetlamp and the quarter moon.
“It’s just that… I don’t get where all this is going. Are you setting us up to raid Bedford’s properties to look for hotlabs on the basis of Josephson’s disappearance? I know he’s powerful. Is that it? I thought LLE was invincible, and if you had suspicions, you could go in without worrying about providing probable cause, no matter who owned the lab.”
“If I thought it was just for hotlabs, I’d be in there already,” Chris said. Now that he was on his feet and out of his apartment, he moved around somewhat restlessly, scanning the streets and the park. Another attack seemed unlikely, but there was a lot of useable cover in the dark. “I’m giving you background. I’m not sure where it leads.”
“Go on,” Livvy said.
“The records matter, more because of what is missing. After 2052, when there was a spate of arsons, they all started being duplicated centrally on an automatic basis, so now Archives should have duplicate records of resets, with practitioners listed for all procedures. Simple lists, referenced back to birth dates to calculate and monitor compliance on allotments. All pretty straightforward, without medical details, right?”
“That was you, too, wasn’t it? Your idea, I mean, to get records preserved centrally?” Livvy asked.
Chris shrugged impatiently. “It’s an essential database. Before 2052, reset clinic records weren’t, so if there was a clinic fire, the only existing record of a doctor-client relationship might be destroyed. For the Greater Potomac Reset Institute, the records were preserved from the 2051 fire and placed in Central Archives. I have copies here. They show Bedford’s appointments with Josephson.”
“So we have the connection, clearly documented,” Livvy said.
“The originals are missing from both Central and the backup archives. I checked,” Chris said.
“Oh.”
“He’s thorough, or maybe someone is just sweeping for anything with his name. At any rate, the only reason I know the connection exists is that when I’m doing an investigation, I always check my own sources at some point, then crosscheck with Central Archives on the theory that missing records are meaningful. As far as I can tell, my 55 year old copies of the appointment records are currently the only evidence we have that there was ever a connection between the two men.”
“And he must know the records were saved from the fire, because they’ve been destroyed in Central Archives, but he doesn’t know you have copies, although I suppose he might suspect at some point?” Livvy mused. “He doesn’t
“We’re almost back to the gritty present. Last year the Potomac Falls Institute was bombed. CCS claimed credit and probably was responsible, but I checked today and found out that, coincidentally, all of John Bedford’s reset maps, which are the most difficult element to manipulate in cases of identity fraud, were part of the records that were destroyed. A security guard died in that one.”
“But aren’t these stored in Central Archives as well?” Livvy asked.
“Only the current one, so it’s convenient for use as the ultimate identification tool. It’s transferred automatically as it’s generated, and the previous copy is deleted,” Chris said. “We should head back. Louie!”
Louie came bounding out of the darkness, and they walked slowly back the way they’d come.
“So we either have to believe in a lot of coincidence, or some random arsonist, in league with a careless archivist, has it in for records that document the Longevity history of John Bedford,” Livvy said. “Or he’s done it to himself. You’re right. Hinky.”
They were back at Chris’ efficiency.
“You have everything from archives?” Livvy asked, looking around, focusing especially on the clutter on the table.
“Hardly. Retrieving anything from that mess would be hopeless. I don’t have that kind of brain. I only have records from cases I’ve worked in some way. I… dislike remembering fragments and finding I can’t get at the whole. Consider it my personal case archive. A very disorganized one.”
Livvy was studying the table with an enigmatic frown.
“Look, Hutchins,” Chris said, “This is one way I work. I doubt that anyone else does anything quite like this. But know this: however it was in Homicide in San Francisco, it’s fundamental here not to become too dependent on Central. They’re as corruptible as anyone else. Other than the radical bombers and arsonists, and hotlab illegals, we end up investigating a lot of wealthy people. And not everyone in Enforcement cares about LLE as much as… the people who work LLE.”
“So you’re putting me on the team?” Livvy asked, drawing another faint smile from Chris.
“The point is, someone thought it was worthwhile to destroy the records already. They’re preparing for something beyond a hotlab raid,” he continued.
Chris finished his beer and popped another one. A lot depended on whether Livvy gave credence to the notion that Bedford and Josephson had been plotting since before she was born.
“Or he’s a particularly paranoid trillionaire. They aren’t all that rare, in my experience. Or someone else, someone not John Bedford, wanted some other association kept secret, and Bedford’s records just happened to be in the way,” Livvy said, reaching for the fresh beer Chris offered her. “Or maybe the careless archivist is just that. Archives lost them. It happens.”
Chris took an especially long swallow of the cold beer.
