If you recognise it, it's not mine.

2309. September 26th. Alistair

Alistair Amadeus Khashoggi, the newly appointed Commander sat down at his computer in a rare moment of peace. He had been appointed to the position of Commander, his cousin Arabella's Second-in-Command, and Head of the Secret Police on the first of the month, and hadn't had a moment to himself in the intervening days. He had spent almost two decades with his aunt and uncle, and through them had risen through the ranks in Globalsoft Security, finally attaining the highest position. He had kept his promise to Leila, and had done his best to follow her child, but without a name it had been impossible while in the lower ranks. He didn't even know if the child was a boy or girl. But now, he had access to all the archives and social security; all he had to do was search the birth records for the Southern Scottish District for the date he knew the child had been born. Sure enough, he soon found it.

Name: Roxanne Olivia Carla Kingson
Date of Birth: 15/12/2289
Time of Birth: 23:14
Place of Birth: Southern Scottish District, Euro-Precinct.
Branch Code: SSD-01706/68-1
Name of Mother: Leila Olivia Kingson
Name of Father: Joseph Richard Khashoggi

He frowned at the last line; Leila had never wanted Joseph to be acknowledged as the child's father. He supposed it had been found through DNA matches; at birth, the DNA of each child was taken and tested against that of the supposed father. All records had to be accurate, and it prevented later problems with identification, for example, if a Bohemian was captured and refused to give their name, their identity would be found through their DNA. It also helped notify the authorities of any unsuitable persons that needed close watching, as it was likely that they had Bohemian tendencies. He scrolled down the page, examning the listed records, searching for any clue as to her current whereabouts.

Education: VirtualPrimary SSD/14
Enrolled: 05/09/2295
Graduated: 30/06/2301
VirtualHigh SSD/05
Enrolled: 05/09/2301
Address: ApartmentPBlock 1
Sector A
WestCentral
Southern Scottish District
EuroPrecinct

Appearance:
Hair Colour: Blonde
Eye Colour: Green
Skin Tone: Pale
Height: 5'3
Build: Slight
Blood Type: B+

Alistair blinked in shock. The 3D photograph beneath the 'Appearance' section could easily have been Leila, though the height surprised him. Leila had been at least 5'6, and Joseph had been 6'1. Clearly, rogue genes had made an appearance.

Additional Information:
Birth mother deceased – complications with birth – adopted
Adoptive Mother: Kelly Taylor-Johnston
Adoptive Father: Luke Johnston
Adoptive Name: Roxanne Kelly Johnston
15/12/2304 - Child reverted to birth name
14/05/2305 - Displayed slight Bohemian Tendencies. Not considered serious.
18/06/2305 – Reported Missing
18/07/2305 – Search Abandoned.
19/07/2305 - Presumed Dead or Bohemian. Body Not Recovered.

There, the file ended. She had been missing for over four years. Alistair sat in stunned silence, staring at the screen. Forcing himself back to reality, he proceeded to methodically search the archives of the missing and the dead, but there was nothing. The trail had long since gone cold. She had vanished. He smiled at the memory of Leila's words, 'you can't find those who don't want to be found', quite clearly, Roxanne had no wish to be found. All he could hope for was that she had found the Bohemians and that they had welcomed her. He scrolled back up the page, pausing at the 'Name of Father' entry. He wanted to remove it, but knew it was impossible; fact could not be changed. The fact was that their technology was too advanced; things that were better left unknown were permanently and irreversibly recorded, no matter what the consequence. That boy, Gordon Jones, for example; He was only 15, but his every move was scrutinised, and the Commander knew he would cause him innumerable headaches for years to come, secluding him from those it was inadvisable he came into contact with. He was already in his fourth orphanage; not even the most ardent supporter of the Globalsoft Corporation wanted responsibility for him.

His pager beeped loudly, alerting him to the fact that he was needed elsewhere. He sighed, and logged out of the archive, removing all trace of him having been there. Duty called.