by Tim Tigner
He turned toward his financial beneficiary, embarrassed by the attention. She looked the same as always, meaning she probably hadn’t been through the replacement process. Allison, by contrast, had a totally new look. She came across as much more glamorous, with a complete makeover, blonde hair extensions, and breast implants.
“I’m fine. Apologies. I had a rough morning. Sorry I’m late.”
Felix handed him a pinot noir in one of those crystal wine glasses that could substitute for a fishbowl and put a reassuring palm on his shoulder. Felix also retained his original look—which was prematurely gray. An ironic twist for an Immortal. He’d likely be dyeing it once his replacement came through.
“Thank you, my friend.”
As David gave his glass a swirl, Lisa said, “We should get started.”
Lisa had the second-most radical change in the room. She had traded her dark hair for a much shorter auburn style and had exchanged her designer wardrobe for one straight from a 1980s Brooks Brothers catalogue. Someone had mentioned that Lisa had replaced a separating Army officer. Despite her commanding personality, David found that an odd choice.
“Given the late start, we’ll push new business until after Tory’s presentation. Before that, Felix wanted a few words. If you’ll all kindly follow me to the theater.”
* * *
Felix stood silently beside the big screen while everyone selected a seat. “Since this will be our first group discussion with Tory, I wanted to spend a second on operational security and answer any sensitive questions you might have.
“First the security. Tory knows nothing about us, and we should make every effort to keep it that way, both through concealment and by sowing confusion. For example, you’ll notice that I occasionally let a slight Russian accent slip into my speech. You might consider using that tactic as well if you have to talk.”
“But he’s about to see us!” Camilla interjected. “Should we be disguising ourselves?”
Felix could always count on Camilla to miss the obvious—if it wasn’t fashion or society related. When it came to keeping up with the Joneses and manipulating public perception, she was a savant. “By knowing nothing I meant biographical data. He is, of course, intimately familiar with what you look like and sound like from the videos you provided as part of the replacement process. He can’t operate without that information.”
“Of course. I forgot. Too much wine.” Camilla raised her glass.
“Can’t he trace this call to our location?” Aria asked.
Aria had a delightfully disarming way about her. Felix considered it her secret weapon. She was much more savvy and intelligent than you’d think at first glance, because at first glance you were thinking that you’d like to take her clothes off—and she just might let you.
“No. Like your burner phones, this video call operates over a Darknet VoIP service that provides no geolocation.”
Felix looked around. “Any other questions?”
“How many people are on his team?” David asked.
“Tory works alone. He subcontracts when necessary—programmers and limo drivers and such—but those people know nothing about how their little piece of action fits into a larger puzzle.” Felix’s phone vibrated as he spoke.
He checked the screen. “I see that Tory is online, so we’ll pause the questions if there are no objections?”
Felix did a quick visual survey of the room, then hit the button that brought the big flat screen to life. Tory’s distinctive face, with its chiseled cheekbones and butch-cut strawberry-blond hair, came into focus. He locked his pale blue eyes on the camera and said, “Good afternoon.”
13
Tastes and Tactics
LISA COULDN’T HELP being reminded of Vladimir Putin whenever Tory Lago smiled. While the Finn had more hair than the Russian president, and his cheekbones were far more pronounced, the two predators shared the same crocodile stare. Cold, cunning, and clearly willing to make a snack out of her.
While she silently questioned the wisdom of employing such a man, Felix turned toward the freshly illuminated screen. “Good afternoon, Tory. We’re all gathered and ready for your update.”
Tory’s reply came with a two-second delay. A result of the VoIP relay, no doubt. “I’m happy to finally have the opportunity to address you all at once. As you know, I’ve been at this for six months now. During that time, I’ve identified replacements for all nine of you and have completed seven.”
Despite his militant appearance, Tory had a smooth voice. It came across as intelligent and sincere, again reminding Lisa of the Russian president. Undoubtedly, that charisma was working in the Immortals’ favor, given the interactive nature of his assignment.
“So far there has been just one hiccup, and as luck would have it, that hiccup happened earlier this morning. David ran into someone looking for his replacement at the very moment he happened to be there closing out business. Fortunately, David called me right away. I was able to eliminate the security breach before it could become a threat.
“Regardless of that blip, I expect to have the two remaining replacements—those for Aria and Felix—completed within a month.”
“Are you confident that you’ve cured my hiccups?” David asked.
Taking tone into account, Lisa surmised that David considered it closer to a heart attack than a hiccup.
Tory didn’t blink. “Well, first of all, that was the one and only time you’ll be required to interface with your replacement’s life. Now that all his accounts have been closed, you’re free and clear to operate elsewhere as Lars de Kock.
“Furthermore, as you know, my contract calls for the ongoing monitoring and managing of all replacements. I can’t predict the future actions of others, but I can commit to swift resolutions should any such instances occur.
“It’s also worth noting that my work in that regard is not just reactive. I put considerable effort into identifying introverted replacement candidates with extremely limited family and friend networks. That said, none of the replacements are actual ghosts, so the potential will always exist. Hence the ongoing contract.”
Pierce cleared his throat as David settled back into his chair. “I’d like to learn more about the tactics you’re employing to make the transitions work. I’m particularly interested in how you forestall family and law enforcement investigations?”
Tory brushed an imaginary hair off his shoulder before answering. Lisa didn’t know him well enough to gauge whether it was a subconscious tell or a conscious suppression tactic. “In each instance, I designed a con that got the replacements to first volunteer extensive background information and then relocate to a place where they had no family or friends. If you think about it, friendships are almost always tied to common geography. If a person isn’t family, then when they move, the connections wither and die.”
“You can’t count on that in the age of social media,” Pierce pressed.
“Correct, but people regularly back away from those platforms for other reasons. Facebook accounts are canceled all the time. Turning them off is a growing trend, given rising concerns about privacy, addiction, depression, and other related maladies. In a word, abandoning social media doesn’t raise red flags.”
While Pierce nodded along, David hopped back in. “Will you give us an example of one of your cons?”
Tory inclined his head. “Most recently, in your case as a matter of fact, I posed as a CIA recruiter. This allowed—”
“I get it,” David said. “That’s brilliant.”
“How do you find our doppelgängers in the first place?” Allison asked. “I’d think that would take an army of spies, but Felix insists that you work alone.”
Tory tilted his head the other way, but his facial expression didn’t change. “Twenty years ago, it would have taken an army to accomplish. Not today. Everyone we’re interested in has a broadband internet connection, and most are actively engaged with social media. These days, people constantly post videos and
pictures of themselves. Particularly people in your age group and younger.
“To access and harvest that treasure trove, I contracted with a Russian company. They wrote a program that scours all the major American social media interfaces—and some government ones. It identifies matches for any face I upload. The software is sophisticated enough to ignore alterable characteristics, things like facial hair and blemishes, hairstyle, hair color, and eye color. It can even adjust for weight gains and losses, although I’ve never needed to use that feature.”
“But there’s more to it than matching appearances,” Allison pressed. “We need loners, and in some cases specific skill sets.”
“Indeed you do, and again the software comes through. As I mentioned, most of the matches come from social media sites or government databases. In both instances, profile data accompanies the photos, and with social media it’s also paired with posts. Once the software finds a photo it likes, it scans the accompanying documentation for helpful keywords.”
“Such as?”
“Words like relocation, depression, abandoned, and orphan. Please bear in mind, we’re dealing with enormous data pools. In any given five-year age band, there are approximately ten million American men and another ten million women. Seventy-two percent of them are Caucasian, like you. That means I get to select from among 7.2 million people who fit your basic demographic profile. That’s a lot of job candidates—all of whom have eyes, ears, and noses in roughly the same place you do.”
Lisa found herself chuckling along with her peers at Tory’s last remark but noted that Felix was busy surveying the room. No doubt he was happy to see the positive reaction to Tory’s presentation. Felix had recruited the consultant, and he managed him, so he shared in Tory’s successes and failures.
“Has anyone rejected your choice of replacement?” Pierce asked.
“No. But then only three of you asked to be involved in the final selection process.”
“Really?” Pierce looked around. “That’s surprising.”
Lisa was also amazed. “Why wouldn’t people want to pick the history they were assuming?”
Tory offered an insightful answer. “While most people enjoy a good hamburger, few want to pet the cow.”
14
Reckless Abandon
WITH TORY’S REPORT FINISHED, it was time for more routine business. David’s mind wandered as Felix launched into an update of their efforts to sabotage other immortality research programs. Although David shared his peers’ interest in preventing others from discovering the secret to halting aging, he already knew what Felix would say.
David had supplied Felix with the intel on what projects they should be sabotaging and which researchers were best positioned to assist in those efforts. All Felix had to do was recruit them. He didn’t handle that personally, of course. He hired blind intermediaries. Retired intelligence operatives with experience in the appropriate operating theater, whether in Beijing, Munich, Tel Aviv, or Silicon Valley.
China had been their big adversary in the early years. The Chinese government was all over both glutathione research and telomere shortening. But after Eos’s spies orchestrated a few big embarrassments, they abandoned both in favor of more promising programs. These days, the big threat came from Google, with its Calico project. Despite Google’s incredible clout, Calico didn’t stand a chance. Basic accounting was the reason. Whereas everyone in Silicon Valley was slaving away in hopes of a big payout somewhere down the line, the Immortals could pay even bigger, and they did so without delay.
Nobody asked Felix any questions when he finished his report, so he yielded center stage.
David wasn’t surprised by the lack of interest. After twenty years, the medical and mechanical aspects of maintaining halted aging had become routine. Retaining exclusive access to the required pharmaceuticals was now assumed. Kind of like smallpox vaccine.
David was disappointed that interest in the philosophical facets of their special status had also withered on the vine. His fellow Immortals were now fully focused on the daily ups and downs of their personal lives. It was an inevitable development, David knew. Pausing the clock did not change human nature. Still, he wished his peers shared his interest in the big picture.
Lisa and Pierce stood up as Felix sat down. Their body language tripped a switch in David’s lizard brain. The forced straightening of Pierce’s spine. The firm set of Lisa’s lips. Something serious was in the works.
Lisa took a half step forward. “Continuing our discussion of new business, Pierce and I have an announcement. A matter we need to put up for a vote.”
The entire audience perked up at that announcement. The only issues requiring votes were those that impacted everyone in a material manner.
“Instead of setting the stage with a long lead-in,” Lisa continued, “I’ll skip straight to the summit. We’ve both decided to seek seats in the United States Senate.”
David felt his stomach flip as he bit back an impulsive outburst. It was an unthinkable idea. Outrageous, irresponsible, and irrational. What were they thinking?
“I know this is a bit surprising and perhaps contrary to our tenet of leading low-profile lives. But we think we’ve learned enough over the past twenty years to mitigate the risks, and we believe this is the best way to protect our long-term interests.”
“What long-term interests?” Aria asked.
Aria’s scornful tone surprised David. Clearly, she had not been privy to this plan. That shed a surprising light on the relationship between the Immortals’ alpha females.
Like the professional CEO she was—or like a polished politician, David mused—Lisa remained outwardly calm and upbeat. “Lately, the political Powers That Be seem intent on satisfying special interests. Special industries to be exact. It’s gotten to the point where Pierce and I are seriously concerned that we Immortals will eventually fall victim to some manmade global catastrophe. Therefore, we’ve decided to take preemptive measures.”
Ries, usually the happy-go-lucky guy, hopped into the fray with both feet. “We’ve taken extensive measures to avoid detection, not the least of which is the recent replacement process. For decades we’ve avoided publicity and public appearances. We’ve paid handsomely to have professionals scrub our images from the internet. We’ve even begun masking our continued association, to the extent that we can’t congregate or even leave each other voicemails. Now you two want to seek the center of the national spotlight? Forget it! There are other ways to influence policy.”
Felix also raised his sword. “I agree with everything Ries said. Find a tactic that keeps us in the shadows.”
David’s building anger began turning to fear when he noted the nonchalant nature with which Lisa and Pierce were absorbing the backlash. It was as if they knew they had the votes tied up. But they didn’t. Not if Aria wasn’t on board.
David voiced his vote, even though it was a forgone conclusion. The researchers always stuck together. “I also agree with Ries. It won’t take a global catastrophe to end our lives if our status is discovered. The fearful and jealous mobs will manage that.”
“If the government doesn’t lock us in a lab,” Aria added. “And in any case, what makes you think you have a shot at the Senate?”
“Let us worry about that.”
David’s trepidation grew. He analyzed the vote, even though it was the kind of math first-graders could do on their fingers. Clearly Pierce and Lisa would vote yes. Camilla would back Lisa out of loyalty. But that was only three of the nine Immortals. Well, eight, David corrected himself. Eric was gone. And really only seven since Aria was just a tiebreaker. But Felix, the finance guy, was nothing if not practical, as were all three remaining researchers. That made four against three. Tighter than David would have liked, but sufficient.
Still, his apprehension grew. It was a feeling that had been festering ever since they had voted to obtain new identities by killing innocent people—a tactic none of them would have considered twenty year
s earlier, during their age of mortal innocence. That incredibly selfish strategy had crossed a line, but at least it was logical. If handled professionally, replacing real people was the safest course for them to take. Running for the Senate, by comparison, was completely crazy.
David decided to put his objection on the record. “I feel compelled to emphasize that secrecy is the cornerstone of our security. It is my strong personal opinion that the Immortals must remain in the shadows. Now and forever.”
Lisa turned his way with trademark empathy in her eyes. “I respect your opinion, David. I always have. But twenty years ago, we were living in a very different world. A much more stable world. There was no Facebook or YouTube. No iPhones or wikis. Nobody had heard of Bin Laden or Putin or Kim Jong-un. And there were far fewer nuclear weapons. The world is evolving, and our tactics must evolve with it.”
“I call for a vote,” Pierce said.
“I second it,” Camilla said.
Lisa met David’s eye, and he knew he was about to lose. “All those in favor of allowing Pierce and me to seek the U.S. Senate, raise your right hand.”
The predicted three hands raised high, then an unexpected fourth. David felt his stomach turn to ice. Allison had switched sides.
“The motion passes,” Lisa said, her tone steady rather than smug. “Before we close, there is one more point of new business. This one also requires a vote.”
David braced himself. What was next? An Immortals clothing line?
“Allison is also interested in a career change. She wants to become an actress.”
15
A Code to Crack
TORY CLOSED HIS LAPTOP and walked to the window of his Signature Suite. He stood still for a second, soaking in the view of the Santa Monica shoreline before raising a fist in victory. “Oorah!”
The incident earlier in the day, when Lars’s friend had literally crossed paths with David, could not have happened at a worse time. Coming just hours before his first full client briefing, Tory had worried that it might mark the end of his dream job.