Killer in the Retroscape by Bruce M. Perrin

Author:Bruce M. Perrin [Perrin, Bruce M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mind Sleuth Publications via Indie Author Project
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Sunday, April 8, 2068

Morning

I

had been up and down all night, unable to get Amschulter and some nameless conspirator at the Bureau for Population Management out of my thoughts. I even dreamed about them, the BPM villain remaining faceless in the fantasies of my sleep. So, when the smell of bacon from Ali’s breakfast came wafting down the hall, I shook the cobwebs of a restless night from my head and started for the kitchen.

Passing Ali’s office, I glanced in. She wasn’t there. The kitchen was empty as well. I considered a full breakfast, the aroma of Ali’s meal still lingering in my thoughts. And bacon was one food that had made the transition to 2068 quite easily. But then, I suspected anything soaked in salt and permeated with a smoky flavor would taste good. Unfortunately, I had little appetite, so a BLT featuring our newly bartered tomatoes became my plan for lunch. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin and headed to my office.

Stepping through the door, I jumped, startled by movement in the corner of my eye. I spun around to find my wife.

“Sorry,” said Ali. “I thought you saw me when you went by.”

Ali had appropriated a corner of one of my office walls, some type of patient report showing there. But I wasn’t sure why she was here rather than her office. She must have read my confusion. “I thought I’d listen in, learn a bit more about BPM. Other than the fact that they stepped in when the Internal Revenue Service failed, I really don’t know much about them. You’re still doing the virtual tour, right?”

“Yep,” I replied. “And I’m glad you’re here. Always a good idea to know your enemy.”

Ali rolled her eyes. As she turned back to the wall, her hands started flying through a series of swipes and gestures and touches, the information on the wall changing so fast it was a blur from where I stood. I had never mastered the virtuant-signing skill … much like I had never mastered thumb-typing on a phone or tablet, back when that was in vogue. But now, Ali’s ability to work in silence left me to operate as I usually did – the easy way.

“Suze, I need to get some background on the BPM,” I said as I sat at my desk. “What are my options?”

“There’s a machine-based, knowledge guide for the BPM named Censere that I can recommend. He’s quite knowledgeable about their history, current functions, and technology.”

“Ah, a friend of yours?” I asked. “Or maybe, more than a friend?” I arched my eyebrows.

“A lady would never say,” Suze replied, matching my tongue-in-cheek tone. “Would you like to speak with him?”

“Sure, but first - the name, Censere? What does it mean?”

“It’s Latin. Censere means to assess or register, usually for taxes.”

I chuckled. “How appropriate. Yes, please put him on.”

Soon, a figure appeared onscreen and I have to give BPM credit. It was not the generic, solemn-looking, talking-head I had expected from an official, government agency.

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