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The Pitch

By Adriaan Brae



Smashwords Edition



Copyright © 2009, BraeVitae Inc.



The hard-edged tones of a classic Eno generative rang through Steve’s head almost causing him to drop the coffee he’d just purchased.

This new implant phone is going to drive me batty.

The phone apparently took that thought as a cue to open the call, because a talking head at half transparency suddenly replaced the tube station’s ambient adverts in the upper right quadrant of his vision.

“Many of those living today will never die, and you can be one of them!” enthused the richly modulated tones of the earnest looking man on the call. He had dark skin, what looked like north-Asian ancestry, and a Luna farside accent.

Steve ducked into a free tube pod and absent-mindedly replied while selecting his office from the list of destinations that pulsed in the center of his view. “Sounds great. What kind of a price tag are we talking about?”

He dropped into a seat and took a sip of coffee as the caller answered, “10% of your gross income, for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not bad–wait, for the rest of my life?” Steve queried.

“Yes.”

“But that would be forever, since I’d be immortal?”

“Oh, no,” the caller corrected with satisfaction. “You only need to pay until you die.”

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