Authors: Phillip W. Simpson
“The journey to
Revel will take approximately 2 weeks. You have arrived just in time for our
twice weekly Deviant Ball held tonight in our largest venue, the Meat and Two
Vege club encompassing levels 24 and 25. You are encouraged to attend. Costumes
can be provided by Walter here if you are unwilling or unable to use your
Coverall.”
“We’ll see Minx,"
Logan said non-committedly. “Actually, we’re hoping to find one of our friends.
His name is Horace Belloc. He would’ve checked in a few hours before us."
“Of course. Mr.
Belloc has been allocated room 32762. Would you like me to contact him for you?."
Logan shook his
head. “No thanks."
The AG lift began
to move. Not that it was actually appreciable, but the holographic display on
the walls changed every time they got to a new level.
“If there’s
anything else you need, you are encouraged to talk to myself or Walter. A
partner or even groups can be sent to your room at any time during ship day or
night. Welcome aboard and enjoy your stay”
“Thanks again Minx,"
said Logan.
A beaming Walter,
struggling to remain silent during the conversation, finally got his chance to
speak again. “There you have it. The little lady herself," he said
proudly. “Isn’t she wonderful," he gushed. “We’ve got 30 StarCruisers in
our Hedonist fleet now, and she’s by far the most popular.”
Tarquin gave him a
toothy forced smile. “Yeah, she’s great."
Walter was
seemingly satisfied with the response. “Right, now then. Here we are. Electric
Blue." He clapped his hands again. The lift doors opened to reveal a
corridor painted in that same color. A group of young woman chorusing “Hi
Walter” and dressed in skimpy red leather devil outfits pushed their way into
the lift giggling. The three men squeezed past and into the corridor. Logan
loitered, throwing smiles over his shoulder at the girls.
“I take it they’re
dressed for the ball tonight?," Logan enquired of Walter.
Walter pudgy face
was again adorned with a cheery smile. “No, I don’t believe so. That’s their
everyday ship board attire. I think they’ll be coming up with something a bit
more creative for tonight’s activities. You both really should look at
attending."
Rounding a corner,
they emerged in a square courtyard surrounded by seats. Most of the seats were
taken by a variety of passengers in various states of undress and some in the
advanced stages of foreplay. Blue shrubs were dotted here and there. One larger
shrub sheltered a recumbent form, happily snoring and surrounded by beer
dispensers. The walls were covered with murals depicting complicated and highly
technical forms of fornication. Walter stopped outside a door facing the
courtyard.
“This is your room
Mr. Pope. Your room is next door, Mr. Compton-Burnett. As I said, if you change
your mind about the Ball tonight, let me know. Shipboard time is currently 5pm.
The ball is set to start at 10pm. I’ll be happy to provide advice or a costume
if your coverall’s aren’t sufficient for your needs." Walter paused for a
moment and realizing that his new passengers were unlikely to respond, decided
to make himself scarce. With a wave, he set off back down the corridor.
Logan fired the
code into his door and walked into his room. Tarquin followed him in and set
his now largely empty bag down on the floor. The room was dominated by a large
AG bed. A comfortable looking leather chair with enough room for three people
and equipped with straps, filled one corner. The walls and ceiling were covered
with full length holographic screens currently depicting a woodland scene. Some
of the animals looked to be fornicating. Logan ordered the wall to switch
itself off and went to sit on the bed. He eyed his sagging bag remorsefully.
“Wasn’t much point
bringing a bag in the end”
Tarquin favored
him with a grim smile. “I’ve still got a few aces up my sleeve and there’s lots
more where that came from on my ship."
“I’ve got a
nagging feeling we’re going to need it.” Logan stood up. “Let’s find Felix.”
Hedonism. The
pursuit of pleasure. Most people defined pleasure as something they enjoyed.
This could be as varied as nailing your testicles to a table, examining with
relish the large chunk of ear wax just removed from said orifice, shagging your
boss’s partner behind their backs or just being naked in completely
inappropriate places. For the large majority, participating in pleasurable
activities was something that they’d like to make a permanent vocation. One
world had. Revel.
Colonized in 2600,
the planet was a veritable paradise. The first settlers had come to the
conclusion that work was a load of arse, and frankly, should be something that
other people did. To this end, they created the Hedonistic Pleasure Society. In
all fairness, the population did actually work but that work was obviously
geared towards pleasure. Revel rapidly gained a reputation for a place to go to
have fun. Mostly fun that leaned towards sex. Almost nothing was sacred or
frowned upon, a place where you could live your fantasies and do what you
normally couldn’t in your everyday mundane existence. It was suspected some of
the founders had somehow got hold of exceptionally old copies of “Fantasy
Island."
To meet the demand
of pleasure seekers and tourists alike, the Hedonist’s had built a fleet of
StarCruisers. These ships were designed to encompass as many of the activities
found on Revel as possible. A kind of entrée really. The final port of every
Hedonist StarCruiser was Revel. The culmination of three months in space, an
excuse for a huge party (not that they needed one), and a chance to see
Hedonist’s on their home turf. People could, of course, come and go as they
pleased, and a lot did, finding that Hedonism was surprisingly tiring work.
The ships
themselves, like all modern transport devices, were largely controlled and
maintained by AI’s. Other AI constructs were generally based on their owner’s
personalities. Hedonist AI’s were largely unique. The brain patterns and
personalities of some of the more famous (and infamous) Hedonist’s were copied,
combined with almost infinite memory and processing power and turned loose to
control their ships. Of course, AI’s imbedded in people’s neural structures
could do the same thing; that is, copy their hosts personalities, but these
ones weren’t famous and in control of an excess of 20,000 human lives. The side
effect of combining a real personality with an AI was that the personality
became, after an extended period, much more logical. Personality quirks and
real human emotions still existed to a degree but were now presided over by the
logic framework provided by the AI.
The
Dirty
Little Minx
was controlled by the personality of one Tina Hogsworth. Tina,
long since dead, lived on in the spacious cyberspace of her AI’s mental framework, observing the physical activities that she had once been an enthusiastic participant.
Tina’s claim to fame, amongst other things, was that she still had the record
for having the largest amount of sexual partners, in one sitting (so to speak),
whilst on a tight rope. Of course, that had lead to her eventual demise. During
her 126
th
tryst, attempting some rather convoluted and technically
impressive sexual connection, her partner had slipped sending them tumbling and
screaming (some said that she was still in rapture), the 500 meters to the
pavement.
Felix read all
this in the pamphlet provided when he arrived on board. He could have more
easily accessed it via his AI but had turned it off to better remain incognito.
That he was actually reading it was surprising, but he was bored. Not many who
traveled on a Hedonist SpaceCruiser could ever admit to such, but with his life
seemingly at risk, Felix had to keep a low profile. He’d arrived on the
Dirty
Little Minx
4 hours previously, spent the first two sitting in his room
bored as a bastard and the next hour entertaining himself by playing with the
various holographic displays in his room.
The Hedonists, as
he discovered, had basically no shame. Anything debacherous, sexual, deviant or
adrenaline filled could be accessed. Most of it in real time and aboard the
ship, and invariably sexual. Out of boredom, he’d almost accepted the offer of
the ship to send a partner to his room. Almost. He may be on the run, with
various armed psychopaths chasing him, but he wasn’t going to resort to any
form of sexual standard lowering.
Finally, armed
with the belief that he was unlikely to be tracked here and with the attitude
that he may as well try and enjoy himself whilst on board, he asked the ship if
there was a quiet bar available. The ship offered him a list of 36. Selecting
the remotest one on level 21, he found himself in a small bar cum restaurant
known as Mojos. Situated right on the hull, Mojos provided panorama’s, via
large field windows, out into space – or in this case – into the gray
nothingness of nospace.
Relatively small,
there were six bright green booths and a long red colored bar accompanied by
tall bar stools. The carpet was yellow which Felix could only assume was to
hide beer spillage, although it didn’t look like the place to host a great deal
of swilling. The place was sparsely occupied which suited Felix. Two of the
booths had occupants. Three men sat talking quietly over beer in one and a
party of six more rowdy “Martians” occupied the corner both.
Noticing his
reflection in the mirror facing the bar, Felix smoothed his fake mustache down.
As Horace Belloc, he was now a red head, had a bulbous nose and was a foot
taller thanks to platform boots. Not much of a disguise but then again he
certainly wasn’t an expert at this sort of thing. That was more Logan’s field.
He wondered what his two friends would make of his disappearance but there was
little he could do about it now.
Felix ordered a
beer and for lack of better things to do, contented himself by watching the
Martians getting drunk in the corner booth.
The Martians were
a product of typical human ingenuity. After watching humankind explore the
galaxy for a hundred years without finding a trace of intelligent, space faring
extra terrestrials, a small disheartened group of “first contact” extremists
decided to take the rather bizarre step of creating their own. Investing large
amounts of time and money into genetic engineering, and buying their own planet
off the Areopagites - known as New Mars -, the Martians were born. Genetically
modified to look like humans stereotypical little green men, the Martians were
now capable of propagating their own species, and in fact, New Mars had a
population of rather more than a billion.
Felix had only encountered
them on two occasions before. Unsurprisingly, the Martians excelled at
Astroengineering, and in fact, their most prominent and well respected
University, Arthur C. Clarke, provided some of the best AstroEng graduates in
the galaxy. Felix had requested two research graduates from Arthur C. Clarke to
help out with one of the tricky phases in the Slipdrive development. Without
which, he doubted whether the drive would have been developed.
Four foot tall,
green and all uniformly dressed in silver ship suits, the six Martians were
playing some form of drinking game. They were equipped with seven
disproportionately long, multi-jointed fingers on their hands, fingers they
were currently using to good effect. From what Felix could make out, the game
seemed to involve lots of drinking and string pulling. The Martians had ordered
their table to create a hole in the middle through which six strings could be
seen descending towards their mid riffs. After all six Martians had sculled
their glass, the loser would have to pull a string. The string, Felix finally worked out, must be attached to each players genitalia. If none of the players cried out, then
the string puller would then have to down another glass. If a player cried out,
then he (Felix assumed they were men), would have to drink his respective
glass. The wild card was of course if you pulled your own string so it was in
your best interests not to pull too hard, but of course hard enough to make
someone else cry out (hopefully not yourself).
Felix watched
their rapid descent into extreme intoxication for about half an hour. One of
the string pulling Martians was now barely able to raise his glass to his lips.
Due to intoxication or merely through willpower, his drinking cohorts weren’t
uttering a sound at each string pulling episode. The unfortunate little green
man was drinking glass after glass in quick succession.
Chuckling to
himself and now none too sober either, Felix was distracted by an attractive
brunette woman entering the bar. She pulled up a bar stool a couple down from
Felix and ordered herself a drink. The three men sitting at the other booth,
apparently in disgust at their neighbor’s behavior, decided to leave. One of
them exchanged a significant look with the brunette as he was leaving, a fact
that didn’t escape Felix’s attention.
Mojo’s was run by
a couple from one of the English colony worlds, judging by their accents. Sean,
the chef cum bar man, came over at Felix’s signal. Felix ordered another beer
and an entrée of mussels marinated in wine and garlic.
“First time
hedonist?," Sean asked with a smile. He was a blond man of medium build
and height with an engaging smile and a thick accent.
Felix grinned
wryly. “How did you know?."
“Most first timers
usually opt for something a bit quieter before throwing themselves into the
thick of things. Hedonism can be quite tiring and a bit in your face at times.
Take those guys for instance," he said gesturing in the direction of the
Martians, “New comers as well. These Martians lead a pretty quiet existence
normally, but get a few beers or chemicals into them, and they’ll be up for
anything. Mark my words, you’ll see them dancing naked with flaming candles up
their arses later on. That’s if you’re planning on having a later on that is."
Sean paused to check a wine glass for spots. “Going to the ball tonight?,"
he asked.
“Didn’t have any
plans to. I’m not really here to enjoy myself. I’m actually on my way to meet
someone."
“Well, in my
experience, its best not to waste a good opportunity. Me and the wife have been
on this ship for nearly five years now. At first, we sampled everything the
ship had to offer and then some. Now, we’re more content to just watch. But
you, I think, could do with a bit of unwinding. You look a bit stressed.”
Sean’s wife Maggie bought Felix’s dish out which he tucked into with gusto
whilst Sean busied himself about the bar.
The brunette leant
over. “Those good?”
Felix, his mouth
full with mussels, waited until he had swallowed before answering. “Yeah. Some
of the best I’ve ever had."
“Well, they smell
delicious. I think I might order some as well."
“You want to try
one of mine?”
She smiled. And a
lovely smile it was to. Very pretty girl. Large blue eyes, long straight brown
hair, a curvaceous figure covered in a form hugging black leather jumpsuit.
Very little makeup. Not that she needed much with such lovely features.
“I’d love too."
She took one, chewed and swallowed with obvious relish. Felix was captivated
with the look of pleasure on her face. “Mmm, good.” She wiped her hand which
she then proffered to Felix.
“I’m Crystal by
the way."
“Fel…, um Horace."
“Well FelumHorace,
I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m a first timer as well. I think us first timers
should stick together. I take it you weren’t planning on going to the ball?”
“Not especially.
You?."
“Why not? It
sounds like fun. What else are you going to do. Mope in your cabin?."
“The thought had
occurred to me, but everyone keeps suggesting the ball tonight." He looked
at Crystal again. She was looking back at him with a charming half smile. “I
must say, the idea is starting to grow on me though." He grinned.
“Good. Its
settled. I’ll meet you at 8. Here’s my room number." She stared at him
blankly, obviously sending the details to his AI. Crystal frowned. “Your AI
isn’t working?."
“Um, yeah. I’m
having some technical difficulties."
“There’s some good
technicians on board I believe. I’m sure they’ll be happy to sort it out for
you."
“I’m sure they
would. Unfortunately, um." Felix thought fast. Lying wasn’t really his
forte. “My girlfriend didn’t want me going on this cruise, so I thought, if she
can’t contact me, she won’t know where I am."
Crystal looked
slightly disappointed. “Girlfriend?”
“Did I say
girlfriend? I meant ex girlfriend. She said if I went, then it was all over."
“Looks like its
all over then. Hedonism obviously means more to you than a girlfriend."
Crystal raised her eyebrows at him.
“No, of course not,"
he replied hastily. “I’m not really here for the Hedonism. I’m actually on my
way to see someone."
“Business or
pleasure?”
“Business. No.
Pleasure. Oh bollocks.” Felix had discovered many years ago that he was a crap
liar. He was also a slightly drunk crap liar.
“I think you’re a
little confused there FelumHorace. Maybe you should have another beer."
“I think I might
regroup whilst I avail myself of the men’s urinary facilities."