Immortality does something to a person. For one thing, many people in the early days beautified their genetics, resulting in a society of pretty people. When Ashfield's Law of Authenticity caught on, human flaws became all the rage, but even then, most people stayed on the "pretty" side of their appearances. My origin was a fairly handsome guy by all accounts, so I didn't muck around with that, although my eyes were just a tad bluer than their original blue.

  And to protect our minds, it wasn't uncommon to fork oneself, say goodbye to one life, put it in a memory partition, and pretend to begin anew with a new identity and fresh memories to create. Out with the old, in with the new.

  I hadn't done that. It would have been a natural choice when I went from being a miner to being a Wavepilot in the Extrovert Starmada. I could have gone from @kittyboy to something cool and dangerous like @killdancer or @deathbringer. I could have gone for something humorous like @sirdiesalot.

  @auroraloon thought I might be broken. If she was right, starting over might clear things away, reset the cache so to speak. From what I knew though, once you were broken, the only way to recover was a full restart, only accepting whatever memories remained from your origin. I didn't want to do that.

  Why am I telling you all this?

  I thought the beautiful black balloon girl, with her dark bob haircut and bouncy legs, was broken.

  The woman sitting before me now, reaching over to take a sip of coffee, was nothing like what I had imagined. She had draped a red suit coat over her shoulders, with simple white pants and a long-sleeved white mesh top, pulling some of the fashion trend forward to her stylish business attire. It was hard for me to believe this was the same woman, the Lady, who eagerly watched us die in the Hot Potato match.

  But she was.

  "Congratulations," she said in a smooth tone. "That was quite the brilliant gambit you played." I recognized the voice that had echoed through the Hot Potato chamber right away. "Would you like some coffee?"

  She looked at me with brown eyes, sipping, and then chewing her lip again, waiting for me to respond.

  I wanted to chew those lips.

  "See, here's the thing," I said bluntly. "You're pretty and you say nice things in a pleasant tone, so I want to like you. It's stupid that the world works that way. We're so caught up in appearances and what our senses tell us. But I suspect I will need to kill you many times."

  She laughed, and I picked up that hint of crazy bitch that lurked behind her pleasant demeanor.

  "I will take some coffee," I said. I was cold, I realized, and coffee absolutely would hit the spot.

  She walked over to a small table in the corner of her office, taking a white ceramic mug in her hands, slowly filling it with coffee. Then she walked toward me, the very picture of elegance in every step. She wanted me to notice, wanted me to watch her.

  The Potato Guard had left me alone with her. I wondered if I could pull the sword and do away with her before someone could stop me.

  As tempting as that was, there's always a catch. Part of her would want me to try that. I resisted. I still needed them to remove the inhibitor in the base of my head. Most importantly, I needed to find @bitchfrog, @zerogstar, and @foxcutter. This was the chance I had worked so hard to get.

  The warmth and delicious smell of the coffee helped quell my anger, but I kept it just below the surface to stay alert, so I could tap into it quickly to do violence.

  "Thank you," I said. I wanted to take control of the situation. "Now that I've won, I'd like to talk business. That is what I'm here for, after all."

  "Yes, of course," she said. "You have your human to sell."

  She made it sound like it was nothing to her, something beneath her to even talk about. I thought about the thousands of people below us in the warehouse, and I understood why. My single human was irrelevant. So, what was she after? Why did she agree to see me? Why did I win the match?

  "Let me get that out of you first," she said, motioning to the inhibitor in the back of my head and redirecting the conversation.

  She put her hand on my shoulder. After all the discussion of hand and foot care, I couldn't help but notice the cream color of her nails and the light pink tips. She pushed down, and I moved with her gesture, lowering down to my knees.

  Black balloon girl stepped forward, placing my face inches from the mesh fabric over her chest. She smelled of vanilla with a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. She took her time. First she ran her left hand through my hair before holding my head gently in place, and she slowly reached around to the back of my head with her right hand, searching for the inhibitor.

  "Just relax." Her voice was soothing. She massaged my head softly with her left hand, while fingering the device in my data port.

  I closed my eyes, feeling almost ready to drift off to sleep. I could hear her breathing, taking slow, deep breaths. She brushed up against my face ever so slightly as she pulled out the inhibitor, and it was like my brain exploded.

  I was online in an instant, hundreds of processes kicking off, the broken ones repairing and restoring functions. I immediately backed up my memories and ran a diagnostic. I tested the jamming in the room. There was no way to get a signal out. They weren't idiots, but I had to check. It's a reflex. The diagnostic came through clean. I was fine.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Her scent, the sound of her breathing, everything around me was magnified.

  I opened my eyes surprised to find her on the other side of the room with her cup of coffee in her hand, staring out the window.

  I stood up, letting my sensors take in my surroundings. "You, um, do this for all the winners?" I asked her.

  "It's part of the fun," she said, sipping her coffee. "Although if the other man had won, I might have just ripped it out."

  "You didn't like him?"

  She smiled through the steam rising from her cup. "It's not about liking. He will be good for business."

  "That's right. I was supposed to lose, huh?" I inquired. I was eager to know why I was here if my offering was so small in comparison.

  She shook a finger at me. "You weren't supposed to lose. He was supposed to win," she replied. "There's a difference. Most of the time, I have the players negotiate with me while they play. I get amazing deals that way. But you through an @wrench in my plans."

  Her joke with my cover name was clever, I have to admit.

  "Maybe you didn't realize, but I was expecting you," she continued. "I just didn't know when you would show up. His loss, but I will invite him back."

  Black balloon girl set her coffee down on the desk. The cup sounded empty. Then she walked toward the couch, taking a seat facing me, crossing her legs again so that one leg could bounce.

  "You, on the other hand, are a unique prize. A Vanquisher."

  Seriously! What the fuck was the point of being undercover if everyone knew I was undercover. I had to have a serious chat with @horus and the people who planned this mission. I tried not to show that I was phased by her words.

  "I saw you on Bar None," I commented. "Why didn't you just approach me then?"

  "Because deals are about people, about trust." She motioned for me to join her on the opposing couch. "I needed to observe you, figure you out."

  I had gone through a hell of a lot to get here. That seemed a bit much just so that someone could figure me out.

  "You want information, information about a specific contract," black balloon girl noted. "I don't give up my contract information lightly, but in this case, the contract is wrapping up. Besides, the Extrovert Starmada has been more than lucrative for my business."

  I had a million questions. The contract is wrapping up? That would mean the Introverts were done bringing in test subjects. That would mean they were ready to release the virus soon.

  And the Extrovert Starmada had been lucrative? That meant the military, my military, was sanctioning the trafficking trade. Whether simply ignoring it or contributing to it, I could only guess. But my mind immediately jumped to @pennygo and others who had disappeared under the guise of discipline. Had the Extrovert Starmada been providing aiways to traffickers? They certainly could. They could erase the memories. They could alter the logs.

  "Oh, don't look at me like that," black balloon girl spat, breaking the train of thought in my spiraling brain. "The Gravemind Syndicate operates in many more places than just Itokawa, and we hold private and government contracts. You shouldn't seem so surprised."

  And there it was, some of it anyway. The Gravemind Syndicate. I felt like I should have guessed that they were involved, what with their proclivity to muck with people's minds. So they were the supplier.

  But I didn't see the Extrovert Starmada's involvement coming. Of course I was surprised! I spent my whole aiways life in service to the government in some form or another. It was all I knew. Sure, I didn't trust them completely. I knew I was just one of their tools. But I had been content in my existence. They had lulled me into a state of passive trust.

  Fuck me.

  Could I trust them at all? I wondered. Was it the Extroverts themselves who were behind the zos612 virus? My experiences didn't add up, didn't make sense. I had fought Introvert ships, in Extrovert space. I had infiltrated their lab. What if both sides were involved? What if it was our lab?

  "So what do you want from me?" I asked.

  I turned away from the window, taking note of the dimensions of the warehouse, the number of people, the number of clearly marked Gravemind Syndicate. Anger swelled up. This was where we needed to fight our wars. I sat down across from her, adjusting the sword so that I could mostly sit, resting on the edge of the cushion. I kept my left hand on my knee so that I could shoot her with my grappling hook if I felt like it.

  "Easy. I give you the information. The Extrovert Starmada leaves me alone."

  I was in no place to negotiate, and I had no idea what the connection between the Extrovert Starmada and the Gravemind Syndicate had been, but I figured I could fake it.

  "I thought we were already leaving you alone," I pressed, "so what else aren't you telling me?" I figured she wanted me to say yes, so she could get me to say yes again, and perhaps again.

  She smiled again, crossing her legs the other way.

  "A 50 year supply extension," she said, straight-faced and blunt.

  I had to assume whatever my worst imagination could come up with was probably true. Fucking Extrovert Starmada.

  "You know I can't make a deal. I don't have any authority to do so."

  She took a deeper breath and chewed her lip again, watching me. "Of course not." She stood up abruptly and walked back over to her desk. "But you will deliver the message to them, and they will say yes."

  Black balloon girl pulled out a quantum drive and walked over to me. She held it out to me. "This is the information you need, and a bit extra. I know the value of information. They will say yes. Once they do, I will give you the access code. You can't hack it. We're the Gravemind Syndicate. Everyone knows better than to try, but go ahead and try if you must."

  I hated this, but I hated everyone around me way more. I hated everyone but my crew.

  "Where are my companions?" I demanded.

  "The human has been traded as part of the offer," she stated in that soothing voice of hers. Soothing or not, I was furious.

  "I need her back," I commanded.

  Black balloon girl laughed at me. "Well, you can't have her."

  Did @horus know? Did they sell @bitchfrog off as soon as I selected her for my crew? Either way, I had just killed her off. She was destined for a horrific future, all because of me.

  "What about my other companions?"

  "The gentleman with you has also been sold," she said. "Part of the contract you are so interested in. He's in the final shipment."

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  I had to try to get @bitchfrog first though. @foxcutter would have to wait. With any luck, he'd find a way to contact us so we could follow him to the lab. That was the plan after all, kind of.

  "And my other companion?" I asked, inquiring after @zerogstar.

  She raised her right hand to her lips, then half shrugged, still holding out the quantum drive in her left hand.

  "There was no one else," she said.

  My heart sank. The Shoemaker! I cursed.

  He must have kept @zerogstar. Three crew members to rescue, three friends in danger.

  I needed to get @zerogstar first and quickly, to help me track down the others. We had to be in close proximity to the Shoemaker, her gatekeeper, and hopefully I was still on Eros. At least @bitchfrog and @foxcutter might have some time in transport before their situations became even more dire. Horrible things awaited them, but horrible things might be happening to @zerogstar already.

  I grabbed the quantum drive from her hand, shocking her briefly with the speed and force of my movement, but she stayed standing there next to me by the window.

  "I need to go," I blurted.

  She studied me, biting her lip yet again. "You are free to leave. Although I was hoping perhaps you would consider staying. I could use someone like you."

  I growled at her, ignoring her smell of vanilla.

  "I can see you're not in the mood right now."

  A door slid open, and I saw @glamdane and two others enter. I studied black balloon girl right back. She was certainly not to be trusted, and I wasn't sure if she could be used. But one thing was certain, she would need to die.

  I stormed out of the room, adding Kill Black Balloon Girl to my mission log.

  "I'll see you again soon," she called out after me, her gentle and soothing voice bouncing down the corridor.