by S J Hunter
“So, when you come in quarterly for your resets, we do our mapping and scans each time, because it’s not senescence we’re checking for, it’s tumorigeneses. We’ve always been able to destroy a few abnormally replicating cells in situ, but if they get further along than that, it gets more difficult to destroy them without being more invasive. There is a new imaging technology that catches them sooner, that’s all, and if we can catch them sooner, and locate them more precisely, we can treat them sooner. When they’re just a few cells in size… well, you get the picture. It’s not your situation that’s changed, it’s ours. New technology. Better medicine. It’s win-win really,” the doctor said finally, and smiled brightly.
“Uh huh,” Chris said. He’s very young, Chris thought. He believes in a win-win scenario. So young that he was still enthralled with the great gift his science had given humanity, and what more could be done with it. Out of pure curiosity, when the doctor had gotten distracted by something in Chris’ record, Chris took the opportunity to ask a question he asked every decade or so. It was the young physician’s unabashed enthusiasm that made him curious, he supposed.
“Do they still teach history and sociology in the schools?”
“History? Sure, some,” the doctor said. “If you mean specifically the Allotment Riots, of course. Sociology? No, not much. I mean, at the university level, sure, people can take all they want. But you know, it takes a lot just to keep up with all of the molebiol and other relevant science. If we could get a neuro- enhancement, now…” he added jokingly.
He looked at Chris, who had heard it so often before that he couldn’t muster even a flicker of a smile. The doctor obviously had second thoughts about what he’d said, because he added seriously, “We have enough to deal with in the science. We can’t control the rest of it. That’s what the Laws and LLE are for, isn’t it? No offense, but isn’t that your job?”
The doctor went back to his memotab and stylus.
“No offense taken,” Chris said mildly. “Right, our responsibility. So, an appointment every two months. Is that it?”
“Yes. That’s based on analyses of your maps from the last three pre-reset scans. Your situation is that you have a long history of nicely modulated telomere regeneration but we have to make sure it is kept under control, and now that we have the technology to catch abnormalities even earlier… In the old days I suspect you would have had what was called a family history of cancer.”
Chris’ aspect radiated patience and the doctor faltered.
“Of course, it’s all here in your record, with tickles: both of your parents and your sister died of cancer in the decade before Longevity was licensed. I guess you spent a lot of your time in the hospitals of the time. Surely with your family history someone explained all our concerns about tumorigenisis to you already.”
“I’m sure they have. I’m probably not a good listener,” Chris said. He remembered being told at some point, decades ago, that his genome handled the Longevity Process especially well, as a result of the infamous tradeoff. After Karen’s death, he’d stopped listening. For the last 55 years he had kept fit and continued to come in on the recommended schedule because it helped him do his job well. He just couldn’t seem to get interested in the details anymore.
Every morning, as they separated to go to their respective jobs, Chris with Enforcement and Karen as a Bioethics professor at the university, she had said “Go forth young man, and fight the good fight.” Karen, who was two years younger than he was, could remember as well as he could when ‘young’ really meant young, so for both of them it had been a bit of a tongue-in-cheek reminder that they had chosen to live in a surreal world.
“If I understand you, I won’t need a full reset every time, at least?” Chris asked, standing up. “I depend a lot on short term memory for my work.”
“No. Most certainly not. As I said, that schedule is unlikely to change. We’ll just be doing scans and making decisions about in situ work with med-bullets based on the results.”
“That’s it, then?”
“You’re done.”
“Thanks,” Chris said politely. The doctor nodded and stared after him as he walked out of the room.
*****
Tuesday morning Livvy, comu in hand, once again navigated the complex series of underground conveyances that took her from her hotel to LLE headquarters. After leaving her room, she subsisted without glimpsing the sun anywhere along her route on the subterranean fasttracks. Not being a vampire, she had already developed a dislike for it. Just asking her comu for the fastest route wasn’t going to cut it. Tomorrow she’d start earlier so she could beat her partner to work and still get a nice walk in the morning sunshine somewhere scenic along the way.
When she got to the office, Louie was there, lying next to Chris’ desk on a nice plaid blanket, but Chris was nowhere to be seen. She had a sinking feeling. He’d already come in and gone out on assignment, leaving her behind. She was going to waste a day of the week she’d been granted for proving herself. She’d either spend all day trying to catch up to him or languishing in the office – if finding him proved impossible – reading Enhancement Law Updates.
After their encounter with Marcy Caster yesterday, they’d spent the afternoon at their desks, Chris filing his report on Marcy and some overdue reports on old cases – that was the same, LLE or not – and Livvy struggling through ELU. She’d started a decade back and was working her way to the current ones, reaching May 2098 without falling asleep more than twice. After two nights in D.C. her internal clock was still on west coast time and sleep was elusive. Melatonin enhancements were illegal but she was going to ask someone – someone other than her partner – where to find some pills.
“Hutchins, in here,” the Chief called, gifting her with a small boost of adrenaline.
“Sit.” She did, and he spent a few moments regarding her thoughtfully. It seemed to be a habit with him. A technique. Maybe he’d learned it from McGregor, she thought sardonically, determined not to squirm.
“McGregor isn’t a training officer. Never has been.”
She sat up even straighter. “So he said. I remember.”
“Well, I’m afraid that’s not just your problem now, it’s mine as well. LLE handles a lot of things differently, and the differences are important.”
“I’ll pick it up,” Livvy said.
“You’re going to have to. McGregor knows LLE better than anyone, except maybe Dalton. Remember that. Follow his lead, and don’t hesitate to ask questions.”
Feeling just a little foolish, Livvy cleared her throat softly. “Got it. It’s why I’m here. Uh, where is he?”
The Chief snorted. “He didn’t tell you. Well, he’s not used to having a partner. He has a reset appointment this morning.
“I’m giving you a new assignment. You’ll get a head start if you want to impress him. There’s a physician, Dr. Milo Josephson, whose clinic staff called in. He missed an appointment this morning. Get ready to check it out with McGregor when gets back. I’ve asked Dalton to fill you in on some background when she has a chance.
“That’s all.”
Livvy spent the next hour locating and calling Josephson’s clinic to get the details of Josephson’s schedule and the missed appointment, then arranging an interview with Josephson’s girlfriend. Interestingly enough, the clinic staff not only happily supplied the girlfriend’s address; they seemed to relish the idea of LLE paying her a visit. She was apparently a regular at the clinic.
It was a heady experience, having people so willing to talk to her, and not one she had been expecting. As an LLE detective, her right to requisition an individual’s reset and enhancement records, and everything related to practitioners’ and researchers’ work, was unassailable. The clinic license and their jobs were at her disposal. The people at Josephson’s clinic, though, were not just talking to her to fulfill their legal obligation, they seemed glad to be doing so. A few minutes in, she realized it was the prospect that Josep
hson was in trouble that was pleasing them, not any unlikely desire to make her life easier.
After checking Archives for any past Enforcement history on Josephson, Professional Licensing for the status of his licenses, and the professional associations, AAMP and AAMB, for any ethics issues, Livvy went back to her study of ELU.
“If you’re determined to actually read those things in their original language, Manglese, you’re going to need some more of this,” Meg Dalton said, setting a mug of black coffee by Livvy’s left hand.
Meg had brought another coffee for herself, and made it clear by dragging Chris’ chair around that she was planning on staying awhile.
“Well, I was, but if you offer some excuse to tear me away for a while all I can say is, ‘thank you, thank you.’”
“I think I should be able to beat that for keeping you awake,” Meg said, nodding at the ELU. “With some help from the LLE coffee, that is.”
“That obvious, huh? Has everyone noticed me nodding off?” Livvy asked.
“We’re detectives. We notice things,” Meg said. She cocked her head and nodded at ELU again. “But unfortunately, a lot of our work is following through on violations involving that stuff you’ve been trying to study. Some of it is a moving target.
“You came here from Homicide?”
“Yes. Ten years. In San Francisco.”
“And Tactical before that, I understand. So I’d guess you’ve seen your share of the more exciting side of life,” Meg said.
“I’m behind on sleep,” Livvy said, “but not, I can assure you, because I’m worried about missing any action.”
“And the Chief has given you a missing doctor to find. McGregor’ll be back soon and you’ll get to go out on your first real LLE case,” Meg said, her eyes glinting in a way that reminded Livvy uneasily of Mike’s wicked smile. “The Chief asked me to give you some background.”
“On the missing doctor? So he said. But it’s a new case and not much of one. It turns out that the doctor called the clinic on Friday to cancel his appointments for the day. He’s barely missing. A few more calls and we’ll probably find out that it’s just a family emergency or something else that he got wrapped up in and absent-mindedly forgot to call the clinic about Monday and Tuesday. A non-starter, in fact.”
“And you’re already wondering about the black hole you’ve hitched your star to,” Meg said. Her eyes were still glinting, but then she hesitated and seemed to gather her thoughts. “LLE handles things differently. We try to be proactive. Any time it’s a missing physician or molebiologist who does Longevity or enhancement clinical or research work, detectives go out if anything is called in. And we require the clinics to call in any schedule irregularities or unexpected absences. It’s possible, for example, that Josephson was under duress when he called in to cancel on Friday.
“As for this being a new case,” she added slowly. “It may be and it may not be. Josephson has a history of considerable significance to LLE.”
“I couldn’t find anything in Archives or in the ethics cases in AAMP or AAMB,” Livvy said, a little chagrined. “What did I miss?”
“There wouldn’t be anything in the official records. For what this sorry son-of-a-bitch did, you have to get the story from the few of us who were around when he did it. McGregor and I were here. The Chief wasn’t, but he keeps a cross-indexed file of these kinds of cases so he can assign repeat offenders to the original detectives.”
“But if it was an old LLE case, wouldn’t there at least be a record of an Incident Alert in Archives?”
“Not necessarily,” Meg said. “A lot of the calls LLE went out on in those early days were on things that weren’t yet illegal. It was a molebiol wilderness and we were on the frontier. LLE has been proactive throughout its history. McGregor pioneered the way LLE handles things.”
Meg looked around the office at the other LLE detectives. About half were at their desks, the rest were out of the office or elsewhere in Enforcement or City Central, Livvy supposed.
“Back to Josephson and why there are no records of his involvement. One reason is that he’s a physician. The Chief has asked me to give you some deep background. The kind you’re not likely to get from McGregor, who’s…
“Rusty on dealing with a partner. Yes, I know,” Livvy said.
Meg smiled and took a sip of coffee. “In Homicide did you ever come across a case of medical malpractice that resulted in a death?”
“A few.”
“So maybe you have some idea of the power of the AMA. Nowadays LLE deals more with the AAMP, because although it was ostensibly spun-off from the AMA to increase the lobbying power of the practitioners who specialize in Longevity and enhancement technologies, it also allows the AMA to stay out of some of the worst of the molebiol controversies. Unfortunately, while Josephson’s involvement may have been heinous, even to the AMA, which was the only Association they all shared at the time, it was not illegal, and couldn’t even be proven to be unethical.
“By the way, if you want to get a sense of how powerful the AAMP lobby is, witness how Longevity and enhancement technologies are licensed for use only under the supervision of a physician. Only the AAMB comes close to matching them in power. Court battles between the two have been epic, with the molebiologists who do clinical work claiming they have been virtually enslaved by the medical profession.
“On the other hand, the people still like having that M.D. handy. Even in the hotlabs, patrons with the funds to finance it will try to have a physician on retainer.” Meg shrugged. “Considering what can go wrong, I’ve always thought it was a good idea.”
“Are there really that many molebiologists and physicians out there ignoring the Laws?” Livvy asked, intrigued. “You just don’t hear about it being a big problem.”
Meg gave her a meaningful look. “Exactlly. That’s the goal. That’s because of the way LLE handles it.”
“I’m starting to get that,” Livvy said.
“LLE has an aversion to the limelight. We don’t just fail to seek the public eye, we shun it,” Meg said. “It’s very important that you understand this, so I’m going to say it again: we try not to let the public know how much of this is going on. It just fuels the fires if they know.”
“Huh,” Livvy said thoughtfully.
Meg watched her. “Think of it this way. Two years ago a man severely beat his girlfriend when she got pregnant. She miscarried and almost died. Now, this sort of abuse has been going on for, well, as long as careless jerks have been mistakenly getting careless women pregnant. But now, there are… new twists to the problem. The man was plugged into Longevity, so he risked losing 50 years if the woman chose to have the baby. The careless jerk claiming he didn’t want the baby is not a recognized legal recourse.”
“Was that his motive?” Livvy asked.
“Yes, but it really doesn’t matter, does it? That’s the point. Just the suspicion… It wasn’t even an LLE case. But associated with his arrest, there were riots, anti-Longevity riots, and 3 more people died. Do you see?
“The desire to keep LLE’s activities underground affects how we handle a lot of our work. You might say it’s the unofficial LLE mission statement. People know we exist. We’re happiest if they believe we just sit here and monitor allotments and resets and catch an occasional black marketer,” Meg said, still watching Livvy as though she was gauging her reaction.
“This is key to understanding the work we do here,” she added.
At this point Richard Williams sauntered over from the coffee corner and hitched a hip on the side of Chris’ desk. “Lend me your venerable wisdom, Meg. What’s key to the work? I’ve been here ten years and I haven’t figured it out yet.” He took a sip from his mug.
“Not emulating a colleague who’s clueless as to what’s key to the work,” Meg said without a pause. Then, in an undertone to Livvy, “And he’s worked here ten years.”
Meg turned back to stare at Williams with a patient expression and after a few seco
nds said pleasantly, “This is private.”
Livvy thought she saw a fleeting resentment on Williams’ face, but it vanished too quickly for her to be sure. He threw up his hands in resignation.
“I was just hoping it was a bitch session on McGregor, so I could contribute my load,” he said to Livvy. “Anytime.”
He stood up and sauntered back to his desk.
“Sorry,” Dalton said when he had left. “I don’t have time for him this morning.”
“You were going to tell me about Josephson.”
Dalton was looking through the glass windows into the Chief’s office. Livvy noticed that the Chief was watching them, and some wordless, motionless signal might have passed between them, because Dalton stood up unexpectedly.
“Do you feel like a walk?” she asked. She went over to the coffee corner and freshened her cup, then waited while Livvy followed suit. “We’ll go talk in the Atrium. Have you found it yet? Bring Louie if you want. He’ll like it, too.
Out of the office and a few turns later, they began down a long, straight hall towards what appeared to be a lush miniature topiary set on the edge of a cliff. It made Livvy want to hurry to get there, except that at one point, the hall turned into a glass-enclosed bridge as they passed from the Enforcement building into City Central. They were seventeen stories up and she had her first view of the D.C. skyline. The Washington Monument and capitol dome, sixty years after their reconstruction, were visible high above the rest of the city, and the soaring Laws Memorial, only 10 meters shorter than the capitol, was framed between them. Meg paused so they could just look for a while, and Livvy noticed that Meg was also gazing out over the city.
“I never get tired of it,” Meg murmured. “First view?”
Livvy nodded. She couldn’t have said anything if she tried.
“McGregor and I were here when most of it was destroyed. Over there,” Meg said, pointing off to the right, “are most of the remaining embassies, from those nations still intact enough to maintain them. The rest of the mansions have gone to molebiol billionaires.”
