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“Why what?” Claney stooped close to him. “You mean, all this? This is to make sure that the likes of you don’t break the law. Never!” His hand chopped the air. “The law is the same for everyone. And you, sir, have neglected your duty to visit Memoria already for a year while you should have been there three more times by now. As it is, you’re in breach of state law and must answer for it.”

“But,” a cough choked him, “what about Kathleen?”

“Kathleen!” Claney threw his hands in the air. “We will never forget her. I’m sorry it had to come to this. It’s this Bow here, he didn’t want to help her. He did the right thing, our Bow, he let us know about her plans just in time. By stealing the data, she signed her own death warrant.”

“Just like her father had done before her, hadn’t he?”

“Oh. Bow, did you hear that?” Claney crossed his arms on his chest and turned to the table. “You’d better check the matrix for something we’ve missed.”

Frank heard the fingers tapping on the keyboard. A monitor screen came up on one of the machines. Diagrams flashed on it, replaced by lines of decrypted information. Bow stepped up to the machine, his back concealing the screen.

“No, sir,” he said after a minute’s pause. “There are no memories of John Baker on the file, apart from general knowledge.”

“I bet there aren’t,” Frank managed a crooked smile. Instead of laughter, his throat made a gargling noise.

He’d blurted the first thing that came to mind. If he was right and Claney had something to do with Kathleen’s death… In a moment, his bluff paid off.

“You piece of shit!” Claney lashed out. “You think you’re so smart you can catch me? You can’t, mister, not Russell Claney!” He slapped Frank in the face. The copper band on Frank’s head fell to his chest. Claney pulled some of the cables attached to the band, and Frank’s headache disappeared.

William Bow, nonplussed, tried to catch the band but Claney yanked the rest of the cables loose. The copper band jumped up in the air and hit the table with a jingle as it fell among the stainless steel boxes.

“Sir, please! The equipment… the records… The subject..”

Once again Claney raised his fist. A signet ring flashed on his finger. The Congressman’s mouth curved in a sinister grin. He lowered his hand and spoke,

“John didn’t fit the mould and paid for it. He wanted everyone to have their free lunch. He didn’t know people. You offer them a finger and they’ll bite off your whole arm, then they will come back to swallow the rest of you.”

“So you decided to swallow the Baker family? Who’s next on your list, then? The migrants? All of us?”

“So!” Claney craned his head to one side and gave Frank a hateful glare. “I was right about your ability to plan in advance. Like teacher, like student. Wonder if I should reconsider and offer you a job at Memoria again? What would you answer to that?”

“Do you need to ask? Can’t you just make me obey you against my will?”

“You idiot!” Claney raised his fist.

The door swung open behind his back. A tall blond man appeared in the doorway, his eyes cold.

“You all right here?” the man looked around.

Claney didn’t answer. He still glared at Frank rearranging the loose ring on his finger.

“Sir?” the blond man touched his shoulder.

“Everything’s fine, Dickens,” Claney shook his hand off. “What you’ve got?”

“The first stage is terminated.”

“It took you some time.”

“We had trouble. Chief Bud Jessup put Binelli and the HQ under surveillance.

“He what?” Claney threw back his head. “Get me Agent Archer!”

William Bow, suddenly perplexed, dropped the copper band he’d picked up off the floor. It clanged on the tiles.

“Do your job, Bow,” Claney waved him away. “Make sure the equipment is up and running. Dickens? You still here?”

“I’ve already contacted Archer,” the man nodded. “He told me Jessup was out of reach. Without him, his officers refused to obey the Feds’ orders.”

“Oh, did they now?”

“They did.”

“And that reporter,” Claney peered into the man’s face. A shadow of fear flashed through his countenance.

“Jessup still has him.”

“And the tape?”

“Our man in the camp is dead. Migrants have cut off all contact, their cell phones are off, their radio station is dead. I’m afraid I don’t have enough information on the Bronx situation. The police are none the wiser.”

“Not enough information? Then go and get it!” Claney snapped. “Plug in the Mayor. Get Binelli to call him or send a delegation…”

“I spoke to Binelli, sir. He got the Mayor on the line, but the latter failed to find Jessup. Binelli is now trying to get an appointment with the Attorney General to stop Jessup’s indiscretion.”

“How much do you think he’s found out?”

“Nothing, sir. But this behavior shouldn’t be tolerated. Jessup has to answer for his actions.”

“He will indeed.” Claney paused. “That’s strange. When we arrived at the Bronx this morning, the police couldn’t care less. Jessup didn’t prevent us from entering the camp. He didn’t attempt to report the situation, let alone complain about it.”

“He was under pressure from Archer and DC. Now Jessup has severed all contact with them, and ordered his men to do the same. He’s on the loose, sir.”

“You think?” Claney looked at Dickens, thinking. “Okay. I’ll speak to the Mayor myself. I’ll give the Secretary a ring, too. You need to find out the reporter’s location. .”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that it? Are you sure? This tape worries me now. Bow has performed a selective memory scan on him,” Claney nodded at Frank who hung on his every word, “and what’s her name now — Maggie Douggan. According to it, both camera and the memory card containing the video file had been damaged. The card was handed to some migrant engineers after which your men arrived at Fordham. You confiscated the attaché case, the hard disk and the guns, but not the recording. You’ve failed to retrieve it, Dickens.”

“Do you want us to go back to the camp?”

“Not you. Let your man in the police department do it.” Claney’s stare turned to Bow, still busy with the copper band by the table. “The most important thing to do now is this reporter. And as for the tape…” He glanced at Frank and grinned, “Bow can always make a new one.”

“Yes, sir,” Dickens said.

“Absolutely,” the researcher echoed absent-mindedly.

Claney lingered, thinking, then turned to Dickens. “How many are already vaccinated in New York?”

“About ninety-three thousand, according to my sources, sir.”

“Not bad. And the country totals?”

“They differ from one city to the next, sir. Preliminary figures are in the region of a few million.”

“We’re still on schedule,” Claney mused. “Everywhere, by the looks of it.” He looked up at Dickens. “Anything up?”

“The cops,” Dickens looked at the door opened a crack and slammed it shut.

“What now?”

“All this tailing and wiretapping, Jessup and his men being funny…” Dickens looked at Frank and frowned.

“And? What’s the matter with you, Dickens? Can’t you answer a simple question? Yesterday you didn’t seem so — so insecure.”

The blond man raised his head. “I have a funny feeling the police know Shelby’s whereabouts. If so, they may also know what we need him for.”

“What a lot of bullshit,” Claney cringed. “How sure are you?”

Dickens shrugged.

“Let Jessup make as many mistakes as he can,” Claney continued. “Very soon we’ll hand him over a new and reformed Frank Shelby. Shelby the exposer, Shelby the champion of justice. He will hand the reporters the new tape and tell the world how he used the information he’d received from Kathleen Baker in order to change the world by messing up the original Vaccination model. How he tweaked the program installed in the mnemocapsules.”