At the speed they were venturing, made possible by the low pressure the speedway maintained, the effect of passing so many lights so rapidly had a strobing effect. It was like cruising through a massive artery of neon. Coupled with the fact the lights periodically switched from bright red to vermillion, orange, pink, yellow, azure and cyan, it created an effect akin to an assault on the eye of the beholder. For a first timer, it didn’t take long to see what the intended effect was. Not only did the perception of time melt away, but people passing through it all felt put at ease.
It was a nice preview for what Ward hoped to accomplish tonight. Before it was over, he intended to feel very much at ease. Reclining in the seat, he lay back and closed his eyes, letting the bright light wash over him. At a time of disquiet, it was giving him a moment of peace.
Then, just like that, it was over. The car passed through the pressure collar at the other end and entered the Syria District. He was a few minutes from the Miasma now, and took the time to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. Despite some new bells and whistles, this outlying district of Pavonopolis appeared much the same as he remembered. Originally created to house the crews building the Drift, the area in time became a suburb of Pavanopolis. Here, the mining crews intrinsic to harvesting ore from Mars’ Trojans lived, until automated drones took over the entire process.
Since then, it had been repurposed as a suburb of Pavanopolis, with extensive living quarters, recreation quarters, and pleasure centers catering to both locals and off-world visitors. Right now, Ward found himself lingering between these two categories. The car pulled into a tight turn and mounted the local expressway. Overhead, light filtered in through the dome’s ceiling. It was approaching dusk locally, and the Martian sunset sent piercing rays of blue light onto the thoroughfare and its many passenger vehicles. Unlike the strobing light of the Rennstrecke, this light had the effect of making him feel strangely on edge. It was nothing more than the true nature of Mars seeping into the colony, but it somehow made him feel more exposed right now, a bright light shining down on his private shame.
The car found the appropriate exit and zoomed onto a lower street. The light became warm and artificial again at this level, and soon the car’s automated driver was letting him know they were getting close. “Approaching destination on the left.”
The car began to leisurely drift towards the right side of the street. Ward became aware of the Miasma’s sign: a large holographic image being projected onto the street. Looking directly at it triggered his overlay, which obligingly began feeding him information on the establishment’s six major specialties.
Food, drink, remedies, recreation, eroticism, sensual indulgence.
A series of reviews began to pop up, as well as the establishment’s business license and all other indications it complied with Martian and interplanetary regulations. All the information designed to quell the doubts of a first-time tourist.
Ward felt somewhat odd exiting the vehicle in full view of the many citizens along the street. This wasn’t his first visit to the establishment, though this one was under entirely different circumstances. His previous visits had been on business back when he had been an officer of the law; now, though, he came as a customer and this made him feel uncomfortable. He was sure the proprietor would notice, and make a point of asking about it. Ward shrugged it off and strode purposefully for the entrance.
#
The hallway which led into the main building was ovoid in shape, no hard angles at all. As he neared the doorway, the intensity of sound and the thumping of hypnotic rhythms intensified. Once through, it only became greater
A world of color and opulence. A feast for the senses. Something which put the whole damn Rennstrecke to shame. Ward felt it wash over him the moment he entered, and felt absolutely relieved for it. For the first time in his life, he was stepping into a pleasure dome and wasn’t on official business. Tonight, it was all about pleasure.
Ward passed through an atrium shaped like the inside of a hollowed-out butternut squash, with its slim neck and bulbous bottom. The walls stretched back dozens of meters in all direction. A domed ceiling and plenty of sloped pillars worked their way up the side walls to meet up at the top. Between the pillars, active display matrices turned every wall surface into a display showing scenes of visceral fucking going on. Men, women, even animals. The colors flashed on everything in between were intensely vivid – a combination of red, orange, cyan, purple, pink and fuchsia.
He was surrounded by a sea of low divans, with people enjoying whatever pleasure they so desired out in the open. In several places, people lay there in a semi-catatonic state, having dosed themselves with whatever chemical cheer they had requested. Here and there, people – men, women, and those who considered themselves pansexual – were actively having sex, their rhythmic humping and gasping like a soundtrack to the intense beats playing in the background. Some were being serviced by diverse types of pleasure bots, not all of which appeared to be anthropomorphic.
Whatever suits your pleasure.
He walked a few more steps before eyeing the far wall, where a long bar was busy serving people. The surface was a big slab of polished dolomite, its surface twinkling brightly under the lights. Much of that, he knew, was due to tiny embedded lights shining like diamonds. Behind, flanked by a series of server droids, was a lovely woman of indeterminate age. She wore a sheer black gown with transparent sections draped over her breasts.
Ward headed for the bar, finding himself in need of a little guidance.
The woman took notice of him as soon as he got within a few steps of the bar’s counter. Her sparkling black dress changed shades, becoming noticeably more opaque as he neared. A guarded response, and not a good way to get started. When she spoke, her tone was convivial, but all business.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
Ward selected a chair closest to her and sat down.
“I, uh . . .” He fumbled for the right words. Any other time, he would have had some introductory remarks prepared. That was, of course, back in the day when he would have known unerringly what he was looking for. This was not quite a luxury.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?”
Ward nodded. It was not exactly an impressive observation, but it did kind of cut to the heart of the matter. It also made it easier to ask for help.
“I’m looking for a little . . .” his words still failed him.
“Company?” she said. Ward glanced up at her and noticed the details of her face for the first time. Her hair fell like two cascades over her face, black and reflective. Between them, her eyes and lips formed a trifecta of jewels – two jade and gold and one ruby red. They seemed especially vibrant to his eyes. He was beginning to wonder if he was already under the influence of a lovely narcotic. Maybe they were pumping something into the air.
“Yes, I guess so. Uh, it’s been a while since I’ve been back to the homestead and I wanted to enjoy myself.”
She moved a hand up to her side, holding her thumb and forefinger apart. In seconds, small glints of light danced between them, forming the neck of a fluted glass, which immediately began to fill with a bubbling liquid. When it had filled, she placed it down on the counter before him.
“You can start with that,” she said. “But you’ll have to be more specific. We cater to all desires here. And for a first timer, with no stated preferences, the options can be a bit daunting.”
Ward nodded again. He was clear enough on the kinds of catering which were done before he had been locked away. No doubt, like everything else around him, things had evolved somewhat.
“Perhaps a look at the menu?” he suggested, hoping to sound savvy for the first time since their meeting. It became apparent the instant he had finished saying it he had not succeeded. The lovely patron waved her hand, sending a display tab to Ward’s overlay. Ward accepted, accessing the colorful brochure she was offering.
“We have a full range of services, as you can see,
” she said, providing some narration. “LQC rooms, directstim, pleasure bot. Any and all means of recreation.”
Ward waved the brochure away, having spotted the desired option soon after it appeared.
“I was thinking of something a bit more genuine tonight.”
She smiled, her ruby lips becoming temporarily more lustrous and plump looking.
“Ah, so you’re a Fleischkyber man, are you?” She looked him up and down with an appraising eye. “I should have known.”
Ward smiled. Had he not become accustomed to being laid bare in front of powerful women, he might have blushed. Under the circumstances, he barely felt any indignity at all. He was home now, and such things weren’t bothered with here.
His host appeared far off for a moment, apparently receiving a summons. She looked back to him a second later, her smile returning.
“Enjoy your drink. I need to take care of something. Why don’t you look over the brochure some more and select what you’re looking for in a partner?”
“Thank you,” said Ward, placing his hand on the fluted glass and taking a long draught as she left. The bubbles tickled his nose and delivered a crisp, refreshing slap to the back of his throat. It was his first sip of vintage alcohol in a long time. He would slow down to enjoy it were it not for the fact he could raise it again and have it refilled by some friendly foglet.
For the first time in a long time, he was surrounded by abundance. He could finish the glass in another draught, then order another, and another, and another. He could do whatever he wanted. He knew this, and yet it wasn’t quite hitting home. He was back in the world he knew best, the world he was accustomed to. And yet, its various rules and norms were lost on him.
“Hey there.”
He nearly jumped when the hand descended on his shoulder. Were it not for the female voice accompanying it, he might have done something rash.
“Whoa, you okay?”
He turned to look at the source of the silky voice, and the silken hands connected to it. She looked perfect. A mild tan complexion, deep hazel-green eyes, hair of burnt chestnut. Ward hadn’t even reopened the brochure, and yet they had got it perfectly right.
He hadn’t expected his request to be delivered so swiftly. Shooting a brief look back at the bar, he saw his host had not yet returned. And yet, the kyber he would have ordered was now standing before him, in the fleisch.
Was this something new? Were they sensing his brainwaves, constructing a profile based on his most intimate desires? Had it happened the moment he stepped in, or the moment he sat down? Somewhere in the back, were additive manufacturers and nanofabricators turning out Gynoids to order based on the thoughts customers projected?
Who knew? These people specialized in pleasure. And yes, things certainly had changed in ways he could not have anticipated since his departure.
“I’m fine,” he said. “You surprised me.”
“Oh.” Twisting her perfect body somewhat at the waist, she placed a hand on the counter. “We can’t have that now, can we?” A similarly-fluted glass began to form in her hand, filling with the same bubbly liquid Ward was drinking. She lifted it to her lips and eliminated the contents in one haul. Ward watched with mild awe. It was when she placed the glass back down, eyes fixing on him, he felt his cheeks flush red.
“I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Should I leave and come back?”
“Please don’t.”
She smiled then. Her lips were a lovely shade of tan, far more appealing than the glistening red of his host. Just like the rest of her, they were luscious, but muted. Great beauty impressing itself upon him gently, growing with intensity the longer he beheld her.
She glanced over her shoulder to the far side of the room. Some more archways were there, clearly leading to the LQC rooms and other billets that were part of the establishment. Her hand slipped to his, the one lying idle by his side.
“Shall we go?”
Ward was impressed. Whatever sensors they were using, they were producing very good returns. He preferred his women to be direct and take-charge. Already, he felt himself rising to the occasion. He took hold of his drink and finished it in one go.
“Yes,” he said, placing the glass back on the counter. “Let’s go.”
#
From where he lay, he had the perfect view of the Gynoid’s body, no less beautiful than her face. Her skin was smooth and fair, with the occasional freckle making her seem all the more real, from the slope of her hips, to pert breasts that heaved as she thrust against him. Her nipples were the same color as her eyes, two hazel mounds like infinite swirls, galaxies spinning in infinite space. And when he placed his hands on them, her felt her skin respond. Small bumps in her flesh rose to meet his fingers, her nipples becoming harder with every caress.
She leaned forward, maintaining her thrusts against him while she gazed down at him. Her hair fell over her shoulders and her eyes shimmered. They pierced his in a way he couldn’t imagine possible. Certainly not from a kyber. And when her rhythmic thrusting ceased, it was replaced by a circular grinding motion. With every motion, he felt himself moving closer to climax. The way she clenched him, the wetness forming between them, he knew she was too. Or whatever constituted an orgasm for them.
He could do nothing but watch, enthralled. She was not flawless. This was not flawless. That was what made it perfect. It all felt so . . .
“Are you close?” she asked through shuddering breaths.
“Ah, yes,” he said clumsily. It was an odd question. Surely, she sensed the increase in his breathing, his pulse rate, the dilation of his pupils. Strangely, she seemed to be experiencing those same symptoms herself. She increased the speed of her thrusts, leaning back and moving her hips back and forth against his swelling. Her breathing became moans, growing louder and more frequent.
What in the hell? The revelation was like a searing flash, made even more blinding by the throbbing in his loins. Grunts began to escape his mouth, unbidden.
“Come in me,” she cried. “Come in me!”
He did as he was told, not that he had much of a choice. The last of her thrusts ended barely short of him exploding inside her. Her insides clenched him several times before he began to tense and spasm.
Their grunts and gasps became a chorus, continuing for countless seconds, sounding back and forth until their bodies stopped shuddering. When it was over, she dismounted him and fell to his side, the mattress absorbing her body expertly. Then they lay there, their bodies slowly drying from their sweat and excretions.
“You’re real,” Ward said, once his breath was under control. She seemed unsurprised and turned to him.
“Yes, and so are you.”
He took several deep breaths. His heart was still racing, though not in a way his bioimplants sought to regulate. Everything about this exertion was completely natural and healthy, they seemed to believe.
“I thought . . . I thought you were a kyber.”
“Nope,” she said easily. Rolling over, she pulled a silken sheet overtop of her. Ward rolled with her, not yet prepared to abandon this line of investigation.
“But, if you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?”
Ward scoffed. He wasn’t sure how to respond. He started fumbling for words, and they trickled out in a broken state. This prompted her to roll back over to look at him. She sounded like an old-world pedagogue, explaining something simple but somehow inaccessible to a young child.
“Look, why did you come here tonight?”
Ward shrugged. “I was looking for some fun, I guess.”
“So was I,” she said, obviously. “And you looked like you would be fun, and you were.” She put her hands to his face, her eyes shimmered again the way they had before. “Why does it matter if we found it together, and not with some likeness?”
She turned away again, having completed the lesson. Ward didn’t know how to respond, so he
decided to say nothing. Instead, he lay back, pulling the covers over his exposed body, and closed his eyes. There seemed to be nothing more to question about the experience.
His body was in a state of totally natural euphoria, for the first time in a very long time. And the very thing which had led to it had been utterly natural as well.
Why did that need to feel unsettling? Gently he drifted off into a comfortable, dreamless sleep. When he awoke, the woman was nowhere to be found. Gathering his clothes, Ward got dressed and left, a content – but still confused – look on his face.
Fourteen
Eternal recurrence. Ward had once heard a philosophical fellow use the term to describe life. He was beginning to see their point. For the third time in recent memory, he was standing in a docking bay getting ready to board a transport which would take him to another world. As part of that journey, he would once again be going into cryosleep.
The entire pattern was getting startlingly familiar.
In anticipation, he breathed slowly and carefully, he hadn’t felt this way in quite a while. For almost a decade, he had wandered in sealed environments on either Vesta or Mercury. In a few hours, he would be sitting in a tin can, but at least he would be out for it. When he woke, he would be walking freely on a civilized planet. Or at least what passed for one in the Outer Worlds.
At the same time, he felt strangely calm. He knew it was the bioimplants, regulating his heart rate and his endocrine system, carefully and meticulously ensuring his cortisone, epinephrine and dopamine levels were all nicely balanced.
He remembered what that was like, and it brought some rather ugly memories. You could learn to grow very tired of being balanced all the time, and there was only so much you might legally do to alter that. As for illegal measures, there were plenty available. Ward had chosen to do the least invasive, and merely flood his system with Glow.
The Cronian Incident (The Formist Book 1) Page 13
