.electric dreams, I.

The viewscreen on the communicator was small but clear, transmitting a miniature version of Rolo's displeased frown across the city with perfect clarity. "I don't approve," he said stubbornly.

Lelouch crossed his legs and leaned back, the very picture of amused composure. "I know you don't. But I don't need, nor am I interested in, your approval."

The rebuke seemed to hit its mark, and some of Rolo's indignance faded. He sounded almost sullen when he spoke again, a muted, "If you need a specialized machine, then use me. I don't mind if you have to build a new system. But to contract with some stranger... to trust him with your secrets..."

"Rolo." He conjured up a small smile for the younger man, reassuring him. "This job is bigger than just one machine. Don't worry. I'm not replacing you. But our relationship is very well-known; even if I built the system I need, my family would know who and what you are."

Addressing the deeper concern worked, as it usually did. Rolo nodded, the remainder of his attitude melting away. "Is that why you're going to this..." He frowned again. "...unknown? Because you need someone they won't associate with you?"

Unknown to most, but not to others, and information was Lelouch's trade. He was about to answer when the monitor across from him flickered to life, responding to the alarm he'd set. Lelouch straightened, saying instead, "Finally. I'll contact you when I need you, Rolo."

"Wait! Zero--"

He shut the communicator and tucked it back into the folds of his coat, then reached out to press his hand to the wall. Immediately the machinery inside responded to him, rushing to his touch; he could hear them whisper, A broker? One like us. Talking to us!

Shh, he urged, his will passing through the electric current the same way his voice carried through the air. I need the surveillance turned back on.

He withdrew his hand before the network could throng back to him eagerly, and tugged his glove on. In all honesty Lelouch would rather talk to the electronics than the man who owned them: unless another information broker was at work, electronics were almost always respectful, happy to see him, and earnestly obedient. People were much more unpredictable, could be deceptive and cruel, and they had their own interests that they would always put first.

Inconvenient, especially when Lelouch needed them to put his interests first.

The nearly-invisible camera in the corner was active again, recording audio as well as visual, and Lelouch stood graciously to meet his new associate.

Suzaku Kururugi was eating a cracker, and he did not look up from the papers in his hand when he entered the room. He crossed around the room as if unaware of Lelouch's presence in it, circling around the desk and seating himself at his chair without so much as a cursory acknowledgment.

No wonder he's an unknown. A client without Lelouch's self-assurance -- and need for this one, particular freelancer -- would have walked straight out.

Lelouch smiled smoothly and made an innocuous comment to remind him of his manners. "I'm pleased that you could join me. I hope I haven't proposed a meeting while you were supposed to be sitting down at a meal..."

The brunet paused and then glanced at the cracker in his hand. He finished it in two quick bites, chewed, and licked his fingertips, to Lelouch's amusement and borderline disgust. "Ah, no. I just expend a lot of energy. Crackers and chips help."

It would probably help him more if he didn't eat them while trying to negotiate with potential clients, but Lelouch settled gracefully back into his seat and waited for him. When his fingers were clean, the man straightened the pages in front of him and noticed, "You should be aware that this amount is a lot more than my usual retainer, Mr..."

The precise moment that Kururugi found his name on the contract was easy to recognize; he made a startled double-take, and suddenly found it in him to sit straighter and self-consciously hide his damp fingers. Lelouch smiled for the wide green eyes that darted up to take him in, and at last seemed to notice his fine attire and elegant features.

"Well, it's a very unusual commission," Lelouch said, mildly. "You may call me Zero, of course." It was typical for information brokers to go by an alias, but his father was the most powerful of the city's feuding barons, and 'Zero's' true identity was well-known. "Do you usually go by Suzaku?"

"That's my name -- I mean. Yes."

Kururugi was very discreetly attempting to tidy up his desk. Lelouch ignored him, saying instead, "Then, Suzaku, you are aware that I have offered you a rather large retainer in exchange for this meeting, regardless of whether or not you accept the terms of the contract. But I think you'll find the salary for the commission to be quite generous as well."

Since the contract obviously had received only the most cursory of attention, he slid to the edge of his chair and ran a gloved finger down the page to point at the clause in question. Remember how much money I'm offering you? His eyes lidded, he watched Kururugi read and then swallow deliberately. They could talk about the job after they'd established how much was on the line.

"I see," was all he said, calmly.

Lelouch leaned back again, smiling. "I'm willing to make compromises because, as I mentioned, it's an unusual request -- probably completely unique -- and it requires an unusual, perhaps unique, machine." He gestured at Kururugi; that would be you.

Kururugi met his gaze for the first time, wary. "You need my neural net."

Suzaku Kururugi was a relative unknown, but the information that was available was fairly consistent. An orphan, never adopted; did non-profit work for a while after he got tired of living in the system; finished serving an imaginary debt to society and began working as a freelancer only earlier this year -- small, petty jobs, bodyguard and escort work mostly. He was a hyper, capable of superhuman feats without any nanomachine enhancements. But there was one record indicating that in spite of that, he was in fact a machine: a government record, inaccessible to anyone who didn't work for the city's legislative body -- and didn't know how to ask a computer nicely.

Usually people became machines for one of two reasons: to enhance their physical abilities, which Kururugi didn't need, or to make up for physical defects, which Kururugi had never suffered from.

(Lelouch felt a quick pang and suppressed it immediately. Soon.)

Suzaku Kururugi had a neural net: not a physical enhancement, but a mental one. Even an expert information broker could destroy a man's life irreparably by messing around inside the delicate brain, and so the procedure was very, very uncommon.

And it was precisely what Lelouch needed. "You'll see from the privacy clause that this commission involves very sensitive information, and I cannot divulge it until you have entered into the contract." He gestured idly with one gloved hand. "But the unusual part of the request involves the machine-brain interaction of your system. For this job, I need you to play a specific role -- and to believe that role." He smiled, cool. "So I will use your neural net to create new memories for you."

Kururugi sat very stiff, his expression unreadable. "Memories?"

"I assure you, I've done it before," Lelouch said, folding his hands comfortably. Once -- by accident. "What I will do is install nanomachines with a programmed lifespan of ninety days, and then I will overlay them on your neural net. Your body accesses the neural net before the brain itself, so when you attempt to read your memories, you will be 'redirected' to the false memories.

"Your true memories will be untouched, only temporarily suppressed, and if all else fails, in ninety days the nanomachines will disintegrate." Lelouch paused a moment, studying him thoughtfully. What else would reassure a human in this situation? "There's no risk whatsoever, but I'm sorry to say that it is a somewhat invasive procedure."

There was a moment of silence. Kururugi leaned back in his chair, thumb and forefinger rubbing together, and then his gaze slid slowly down to the contract again. To the amount he would be compensated for his sacrifice. "Just three months?" he said, confirming.

"Three months at the absolute maximum. I can suppress the nanomachines anytime it's necessary, and if the objective is achieved early, I can destroy them." Lelouch smiled, lazy. "Either way, you walk away completely intact, and significantly wealthier."

Another lingering look at the contract.

It was a very generous sum.

Finally, Kururugi said, "I have questions, and I don't completely understand why this is necessary -- but that's what you want, right? I won't get to know until I accept, and you'll take away the details after you install the new memories anyway."

"Of course."

Kururugi was still hesitating, turning it over almost visibly. Lelouch stayed politely quiet, letting him mull it over. He had no idea what Kururugi usually used his neural net for -- likely simple tasks, like recording the events around him, or uploading data for his missions -- but it was definitely nothing like this. Probably no broker had ever even directly tinkered with that complex system inside his head, other than whatever genius had built it in the first place.

"There's no way you can insure me," Kururugi said, more of a statement than a question. "If anything goes wrong, there's no safety for me."

"I can insure you as to my good intentions," Lelouch returned, "but as I said before, there's no risks. I'm not working directly with your brain, only with your existing system. The adjustments I make will be gone in ninety days even in the worst case scenario."

It looked like Kururugi was still skeptical about that, which was somewhat annoying -- his skill and intelligence both being called into question -- but Lelouch reminded himself that the man was only human and entitled to be wary of someone who wanted to reprogram him. "What insurance?" he only asked.

Lelouch reached into his coat and pulled out a slim minidisc in a glossy case, holding it up between two fingers for Suzaku to see. "If you agree to the terms of the contract, you take this. You can confirm the contents with any broker. You upload this program with a password of your own choosing. If you don't deactivate it with that password in ninety-seven days, the explicit terms of our contract will be projected to every wired monitor in the city. By the nature of the memory overlay, while under its effects, you will be unable to remember the password -- meaning that the only way to prevent our very sensitive contract from becoming public knowledge is if I hold true to my word."

The brunet paused a moment longer, and said, just, "That's certainly an incentive for you to make sure I come out of this intact. I suppose knowing your reputation will be ruined is some comfort if you damage my brain." Lelouch narrowed his eyes, ability slighted again, but Kururugi was already straightening. "Do I just sign?"

So despite his doubts, the lure of the money was too great. Lelouch smiled a little, lopsided and cynical. "If you're certain you want to do this, then yes. You're entitled to ask more questions--"

But he let his voice trail off. Kururugi was already uncapping a pen, and he signed the contract without another word. He slid it back over the table for Lelouch to inspect. "Do I start now?" he asked, expressionless.

He hadn't been aware of any tension, but Lelouch found himself relaxing finally when the contract was signed. It was a huge relief not to have to worry about the fact that his plans hinged on some stranger granting him permission to strip him of his memories and give him new ones at his discretion. "You start now," he agreed.

"Then what am I doing?"

There was a beat of silence -- only a beat, so Kururugi wouldn't have to know how much pained him to say it.

"Overtly, you're my childhood best friend, recently reunited with me and come for a visit." Lelouch signed the contract as well, his signature a flourish.

"Covertly, you're helping me rescue my sister." When Lelouch met his gaze, his own violet eyes were as calm and composed as the rest of him. "My family has abducted her."

.

C.C. had said the same thing as Rolo, when he told her about his plans. "You? Trusting a stranger with your secrets?"

There had been no doubt or skepticism in her elegant features, but she had always been less transparent than Rolo, conveyed over his monitor hazily, somehow. But this was as he'd ever seen her: she in her dark room, and he in his. Still, he could make out her mocking, and it made him bristle defensively.

"As if I need to worry about a machine," he'd scoffed. One whim, one command, and that so-vital neural net could shatter into a billion drifting nanomachines, which could reform into an icepick and pierce his brain or create another, much more permanent memory overlay with equal ease. The machine might defy him, but the nanomachines in his blood would always obey.

"You're very protective of your secrets," C.C. had said, her golden eyes sinking half-lidded. "Almost as protective as you are of your sister."

"Almost."

"But I wonder if she still cherishes that the way she did when she was a little girl..."

And then Lelouch remembered a silence, struggling against a million things, the way he often did in these discussions with C.C. -- he didn't know why he continued to talk to her, except for momentum, except that he always had, and she had never betrayed his confidences. It was madness to talk to another broker so honestly, but maybe he had become a little addicted to thinking out loud at someone.

He had told her, "She doesn't get to brush me off when she's just been kidnapped," and cut the channel.