Tomorrow arrived and brought nothing, which Soren had expected, and the week after brought the redaction back, which he had not.
It came back through Petty, of all people.
The mild liaison delivered his weekly folder to the common room, and in it, under the seal summaries, sat a records notice.
The Bureau's archive was migrating.
Old partitions were being consolidated, retention rules rewritten, and files past a certain age would be re-reviewed for declassification or destruction, holders of standing queries to be notified.
Soren held exactly one standing query.
The redacted authorization.
The line that had cleared at Bureau-top in the same season everything else began, the one loose thread of his first year that no shell, no office, and no hearing had ever accounted for.
"Re-reviewed for declassification or destruction," Joan read, over his shoulder. "That's archive language for we're deciding what to burn."
"Then we get to it before the fire does."
