I head back to the shop knowing what I have to do. Ludo isn’t going to play fair. I should have known. Before I make it out of the club, I’m stopped by a familiar voice. 

“Rhys! Oh my goodness! What are you doing here?” 

I turn around to see Tasmin flanked by similarly barely-covered women. They’re not as impressed as she seems to be. 

“I’m just here to see Ludo.” 

“Come on. Stay for a bit. Have a drink,” She leans into my ear and I can feel the wetness of her lips. “Who knows? It could be fun.” 

“Yeah, no thanks,” I say, turning to head out. She grabs my arm. 

“What’s going on?” She pouts, not letting go. “Did I do something?” 

I get real close to her so she can hear me clearly. 

“You bugged my place.” 

“No, I-”

“Look. I know you probably didn’t have a choice. I know he probably put you up to it, but you could have told me.” 

She doesn’t say anything. She just looks back at me and that tells me everything. Of course she couldn’t tell me. Ludo would know she did and who knows what happens to her. 

“Just- I- I’ll make it up to you. Just stay.” 

I pull my arm away. “I can’t.” 

I head out of the club and don’t look back. I can’t trust her as long as she’s tied to Ludo. 

-

It doesn’t take me long to get back to the shop. When I get there, I do a full sweep to find if there are any more bugs in the shop or my apartment. I find three more: in my bedroom, my kitchen and the front door. He had every angle on me covered. 

Tasmin hid them all pretty well too. If she wanted me to know they were there, she could have been a little less diligent about hiding them. Then again, she did leave the one in my shop - the place I spend the most time - in plain sight and I looked past it. 

It doesn’t matter now. I run the bugs through the degausser then through the garbage disposal for good measure. 

They’re gone. Time to get to work. 

I load up a few of the catalog routines I’ve been working on. I never really tested them on anyone or even mentioned them. I’ve kept them to myself. My hope was that I might be able to license them out to a security contractor or even someone like Ludo. 

Instead, he’s making me break my own rule. 

If I’m going to get out of this in one piece, I have to use everything at my disposal. 

I have to augment myself. 

I launch the routines with a delay and sit in the chair. It feels unnatural, like sitting in the passenger's seat of a car you’re driving. Even more so when the halo clamps down. 

I imagine myself behind the console, giving a nervous client instructions. 

“Breathe, be calm. Keep your head back and close your eyes. This will be over before you know it.”

I follow my own instructions.