Alfred Bristow walked into the airlock, or rather the lobby. Department C had attempted for the entirety of his tenure there, and surely before that, to persuade employees not to call it the airlock. One hoped its other projects saw greater success, as indeed they did when Bristow was in charge of them.
"The Unassuming Gentleman is inside," the secretary directed. Bristow nodded, walked into the office, and took a seat. There was indeed an unassuming gentleman inside. Bristow had of course learned the man's name long before, but feigned ignorance on that point. No need to make things awkward, he reasoned. For himself. Besides the man, there was unassuming furniture and objets d'art, the exact amount a comfortable man in a comfortable position would have. A difficult calculation given the ready availability of every possible item in every possible material.
"Modern industry is wonderful, wouldn't you say, sir?"
"What in the world are you talking about, Bristow?" His superior turned around and harrumphed. "We need you to focus on this one. It just came down from Department S. They're hopping mad over there. It seems their database of newborns projected to become famous has been stolen."
"What's the motive?"
"We're operating under the presumption the thieves intend to take pictures of the babies to sell in thirty, forty years."
"Well, that's hardly a crime, is it?"
The unassuming gentleman tapped the papers on his desk. "What's important is that said database is absolutely vital for the Department S eugenics program. It simply cannot be replaced."
Alfred Bristow leaned back. "Eugenics program, sir? I never knew they had one of those."
"Yes, well, they like to keep inputs and outputs separate. Get on it, would you?"
"Yes, sir." Bristow rose and left.
Finis
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