The air of the bar was stale and clung to the skin sickly. Clearly, something had gone wrong with the air recyclers, but that was not uncommon in places like this. The price of living without Free Exchange supervision was high. The system didn’t even have a working Space Gate, and life without instantaneous travel between stars was a harsh one.

He felt his own personal gravity generator adjust slightly as he walked, keeping his feet glued to the floor. The Braith Asteroid had been hollowed out and spun to provide its light gravity. There simply wasn’t enough money for a large scale gravitational generator.

Glen coughed a little and walked forward, pushing past sweaty bodies dancing. The music would be absolutely deafening if he hadn’t had a silencing field on his coat. A few dancers who got too close glanced at him, annoyed, before moving away and returning to the music. The strobe lighting and the general chaos of the scene threatened to give him a headache, but he pressed onward.

In the corner was a place set aside for those seeking a quieter side of the bar. Several three-dimensional pool tables had been set up. Water was suspended in a square cube just a few feet off the ground. Various players put their pool sticks in and hit the balls, trying to score into pockets of projected light.

One of the players was an unusually tall man with sandy brown hair. He wore a ridiculous-looking cowboy hat which was comically oversized. A cursory examination revealed he had disproportionately thin form from a lifetime spent living in low gravity. His eyes momentarily caught Glen’s, and the smile died from the man’s face.

Miles Kieth had been found.

“I thought we could have a chat.” Glen forced a smile as he walked up to the man, drawing eyes from all the rest of the players.

He could sense some hands were on guns. No doubt the entirety of the occupants on Braith owned at least one weapon or two. They celebrated their independence from the Exchange, no matter how ridiculous such an idea was. No one was independent from the Exchange.

Glen didn’t worry. Of course, all of them knew harming him would cause their home being destroyed in retribution.

“This a friendly chat?” Miles asked.

“Friendly as it gets.” Glen gave a reassuring wave to the rest of the watching crowd, letting them know he had no hostile intentions.

The tension lessened slightly. A few eyes turned back to their games, but the majority kept checking over in their direction. Miles handed his stick to another man and whispered a few words in his ear. Stepping forward over to Glen, he raised an arm to one of the booths nestled out of the way.

“Let’s have a talk then.” He led Glen over to the seats. “I hope you’re here to tell me the Exchange is satisfied with my contribution with the Kordite Crisis. That my life is now my own, and Braith stays free.”

“Yes, yes.” Glen said as he took a seat. “Your books are all clear proverbially speaking. I’m not here because of that. I’m here with an offer.”

Miles looked at him with absolute disbelief in his eyes. He burst out laughing. “Why the fuck would the Exchange want my services again? Aren’t I a walking contradiction to your principles?”

Glen stiffened a little. Miles Kieth was a man produced by one of many rogue factions within the Exchange. The result of genetic augmentation. While on the surface, Miles looked to be an average human. He had skills beyond legal human capacity.

“I thought the deal was I do your under-the-table work, and we both ignore each other,” Miles said.

“Normally that would be the case,” Glen spoke, “but I trust you’ve heard of the Herodotus?”

“Yeah, it was all over the UTN.” Miles took out a cigarette and lighter. “Holy shit, you want me to go?”

“Perceptive as always, Mr. Kieth.” Glen leaned forward. “The Exchange has need of your services again. What’s your price?”

“My price?” Miles lit his cigarette. “That’s a difficult question. What do you ask when the devil offers you a wish?”

“Materially speaking, you know there is no limit to our resources. How about a mansion suspended over a recreation of the ophelia waterfalls? Or perhaps a home on a planet made entirely out of diamonds?”

Miles grinned at him. “Yeah, rotting away in your luxury. That’s how I want to spend my life.”

“The Exchange can always pay in life extension. How about a thousand years? We’ll even throw in the deluxe package. Full body repair in case something gets damaged along the way.”

“No thanks. I’m not going anywhere near one of your gene bays. You’re going to have to grease my fingers a little more.”

Glen suddenly felt a fling of impatience. “Just name your price.”

“A ship,” Miles said. “Top of the line. I want your best one. Something fast and a lifetime supply of fuel.”

“Fair enough.” Glen extended his hand.

Miles looked at it with suspicion. “That’s it? No haggling? You types are always trying to squeeze the blood out.”

“Miles, you are the easiest person I’ve had to deal with so far. I would have given you a planet if you wanted it.”