Zero History

“Say you needed the SBS to rendition a dozen possible jihadis out of the basement of a
mosque. Or trade unionists, should they happen to be down there, promiscuous as they
are. Just say.”
“Say,” said Hollis.
“And didn’t want it seen, ever. And shutting the cameras down wouldn’t be an option,
of course, as you might well pay for that, later, on BBC. So say your Special Boats boys
bear the sigil of forgetting—”
“Which is?”
“Facial recognition, after all, isn’t it?”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’ll see it, soon enough. It’s on its way over, courier. His last gift.”
“Did he say that?”
“No,” he said, sadly, “but we both knew.”