2416 Aiden: Mom, I have to go, I love you. Love you dad, I'll call you tonight from Paris. Yea, I gotta meet these smucky bank people and help 'em out. It'll be fine mom, don't worry. I had business to take care of, I was wearing my good jeans, and a t-shirt. I hopped into the transport, and off I went, clean, debugged, and my particles re-arranged. I hated it, all it took was for someone to hit the wrong button, and a person could vanish... forever. I'd need to find a way to fix that, but for now, I'd just have to be very careful. What I really had to do in France, was to make it virtually impossible for someone to be assassinated. Of course, if I told anyone who it was...I would be killed. It didn't matter if I said I had done it for someone, so long as no one ever knew who it was. Instead of meeting the guy in person, I had a seamstress get his measurements, I would never come into direct contact with him. He had wanted to meet me in person, but I had refused. What I got instead of measurements, was a life-size non-descript model of him. Ok, I could work with this. What needed to be done was that a special micro-fiber network would be created, which could then be worn as a lining on whatever he chose to wear. his head, well that would become tricky, but if he wanted to live, he'd do it my way. I made up anothe network of the same fiber, and had it fitted into an ultra-thin transparent mask/ face/head shield. He would need to wear it at all times. This "suit" was designed to detect poisons, shield bullets, and here was the best part, if a Ceriton were to try ripping his heart out, they would receive a shock that would paralyze them for a day. The rest I informed them; would be common sense. I collected my 15 million dollars American immediately following the test. Yes, this guy thought I would fuck him over.
Then I went to the bank, and found the reason they had been robbed so many times. The idiots had a transfer station inside the building, the building was also home to a few apartments, and the rest of it seemingly forgot that the transfer station was there. I calmly told the owner after looking around for about 10 minutes, that it would cost him upwards of about 7 million credits for me to fix it. I guess the owner decided that I was wrong, and made a remark about my age, my clothing, the price, and the very small amount of time I had taken to come up with this number. I calmly told him, I'm sure you don't know this, but you've just been robbed again. Still think I'm wrong? I returned to my hotel. This whole gig bothered me. I wanted to do something different with my life. I guess I'd have to figure that out later.