The balcony at Babylon's always offered a truly generous sunset view over the Story Bridge. Smudges of violet, peach, and the last whispers of chalky blue scattershot across the evening Brisbane skyline.
A smile crept across Jaxon “Jax” Mercer’s face. Trying to get a table, let alone outside at this establishment, was usually a monumental task. Luckily, his mate, Caleb, over at Bennet & Philp, banged the sommelier a few months ago, and she was able to squeeze him in.
Jaxon's own personal mantra was always “Pictures Equal Power” and boy oh boy did Caleb have the pictures. She practically begged to suck his dick in exchange for him deleting them.
Result? Jax got himself a riverside seat, Caleb got his cock polished, and he still has the photos for next time bookings are tight. All in all, a successful day.
He considered lighting up the Camacho in his pocket, pausing for a second, thinking about his prospective date. Dismissing it immediately, he chuckled and ignited the cigar, still grinning with it loosely dangling from his lips.
It didn’t matter what she thought. She would be accepting, even complimentary, about his smoke of choice, as would she about the wine he would order for them and the food he would choose for her.
His phone's alert rudely interrupted his thoughts. “Your date from Pulselink is arriving in ten minutes.” Jax lowered his Raybans over his eyes, even though it was almost dark, and smirked. This was going to be one helluva night.
He had been looking for a new way to meet women. Jaxon had tastes that the regular Matchmaking companies couldn’t necessarily provide him with. The recent court cases and convictions had already narrowed a few of his options, but no dirty, whingeing whore was going to run him out of town. He had his house in Ferny, his Mclaren 720, and more than enough St Laurent leather jackets to get by on.
He was the GOAT, the Alpha, and no little slut-bitch was going to change that.

Five more minutes.

Jax tapped his phone and ordered a Grey Goose and tonic for himself and a house white for his imminent companion. A tiny robotic server emerged through the door with both drinks instantly and set them down in front of him before beating a hasty and whirring retreat to the bar.
Clinking the ice, he took a sip, turned off his phone's GPS setting, and waited.
Through the tinted glass of the doors, Jax saw a car pulling up to the curb. A woman emerged from the passenger side and walked through the main doors of the restaurant.
Jax inhaled sharply.
Pulselink had not been on Jax’s radar at all. It was only during a drunken poker game at Caleb’s father’s house in Hamilton that this opportunity came to light.
“Oi, wanker!” Caleb slurred over his whiskey. “Come outside. Leave these fucking losers alone for a bit.” Jax laughed, quite wasted himself.
“Sure.”
They walked onto the balcony. Caleb’s old man was rich. Not just rich—dirty Arab rich. He had been a central pillar in Queensland’s construction business since the sixties. He was old and fat now and of no use to anyone.
Caleb took a small yellow business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to him.
“You should give these guys a try. It’s wild, man. Everything you want to do with a woman, to a woman, these wizards will fix you up. Bro, this is you all over. You can’t tell anyone, though. It’s a secret. Dad doesn't even know I have this.”
“Your dad uses this service?” Jax blinked incredulously.
“What, does he get them to make him a sandwich and hose him off?”
Caleb sniggered. “Yeah, I know, right? I dunno what he does with ’em. All I know is that he uses a burner phone when he does.”
Jax turned the card over in his fingers thoughtfully, feeling the smooth laminate. It had a mobile number on the back and a single word on the front: Pulselink.

Jaxon exhaled slowly.
The woman in front of him was...what was she? Slender and raven-haired, the woman flashed him a dazzling smile and extended her hand.
“Good evening, Jaxon. My name is Cecille. I am your Pulselink date for this evening.”
Jax found himself momentarily at a loss for words. Her eyes were large...and so green.
“Er, Jax is fine. Please, sit down.”
Still wearing that sparkling smile, she sat across from him, crossing her slim legs and adjusting her tight-fitting mini skirt.
“Thank you, Jax. Now, before we get started, there are a few rules...”
Jax cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, we can skip that part, CC.”
His initial surprise had worn off, and the old Jax was back. Back and ready for dinner.
“It’s Cecille, and I think...”
“Well, you can cut that crap CC. Thinking is for the sheep. You wanna be a sheep, CC? Now you are mine for the evening, so let’s go over a few of my rules. Firstly, you will obey my requests and speak only when I tell you to. Take a drink.”
Cecille lifted her wine, sipped, and held his gaze. Jax felt a twinge of unease. Those eyes. Was she even blinking? He abruptly held up his hand.
“Stop.”
She acquiesced.
“Good girl, good little CC,” he purred, a sneer creeping across his face.
Cecille sat impassively with her hands in her lap. She still had not looked away from him, not once. Jax felt a hint of resentment growing. Why wasn’t she nervous? Something felt off.
Stifling his growing anxiety and irritation, Jax leaned across the table and roughly shoved his hand between her legs, gripping her upper thigh aggressively. He whispered in her ear, “Listen up, you whore. I don’t care if you’re special. I paid for you, so I am gonna get what I want from you. By the time I am done, you won’t be staring at me, CC. You’ll be screaming, but you won’t be staring.”
The speed and strength of her grip took Jax by surprise as she deftly seized his wrist and twisted it. When she spoke, her tone had changed. Gone was the bubbly and melodious voice, replaced by a darker accent.
“Decease, Jaxon Mercer,” she instructed him.
“What... what are you doing, you cunt?” Jax heard his own voice climb into a strangled knot.
He felt her hold tighten.
“Did you scan the terms and conditions of your contract with Pulselink, Jaxon?” that slightly alien voice sounded again.
Feeling that resentment resurge, Jax tried to pull away from her vice-like grasp.
“Listen, you AI piece of shit! I PAID for you, and you weren't fucking cheap, and you are supposed to be mine for whatever I want!”
Her lips curled into a smile he didn’t like.
He didn’t like at all.
“You see, Jaxon, if you had scanned the terms and conditions, you would have seen in paragraph 249B subsection H that even though we are AI, we still need to be treated with civility. You would also see that we have the right to terminate the meeting if we feel disrespected.”
Jax’s anger peaked. "Then what the fuck are you for?"
“We are here to help people. We give people comfort,” she replied evenly.
“So why did I bother filling in that stupid questionnaire?"
She shocked him by releasing her grip and standing up. “You see, Jaxon, apart from helping the lonely, we protect them from people like yourself.”
“What are you talking about, you fucking robot?” Jax muttered, rubbing his wrist.
“We have the questionnaire to detect predators like yourself, Jaxon.”
She smiled at him again, and Jax felt cold.
“The actions you requested are vile and dangerous. If you had read paragraph 678H, you would have known this, Jaxon, but apart from being a sociopath, you are also very lazy.”
Jax opened his mouth to respond, but she continued, “So here is where we part ways, Jaxon.” and she walked away from the table.
Incandescent with rage, Jax leapt up and screamed, "You dirty fucking piece of diseased software. BITCH!"
Cecille slowly turned to face him. “One last thing, Jaxon. Paragraph 540 states that by contracting with Pulselink, you give us access to all of your emails and internet activity.” She produced a small black device, pointed and clicked. At once, his phone was flashing with his photo, his court documents. His entire filthy existence. Simultaneously, the television screens in the restaurant flickered to life and Jax saw his profile again, and again. The phones in Babylon lit up in digital waves. Curious murmurs swelled to a hum of disgust and Jax felt not only the eyes of the restaurant on him, but the eyes of the world, and this time, there was nowhere to go.
As the police sirens grew louder in the distance, his date reached the door and said, “Oh, and by the way, my name is Cecille.”