::Azucena::

Nyu looked up from the documents on the table, and without moving her lips, she said, “this is your new identity.”

“What about you?”

“All wealthy patrons need at least one prompt servant.”

I picked up one of the cards and examined its laser work. “Looks genuine enough. Might just bypass their counter-measures.”

Nyu tapped her smooth plastic forehead. “Your psychographic profile. Once the mind clicks, the rest of the body follows. Which is where this comes in.” From a compartment in her index finger, she produced a little pink pill. “Neuro-genetically, you will be the perfect match.”