VENTURES//PLAN YOUR MINIWEEK NOW
NEW BREAKFAST OPTIONS//LASVENUS ONLY
Figs and Prosciutto
Rhubarb Compote
Fettuccine Alfredo
Kedgeree with Curry Sauce
Celery Grissini
Toast Marmalade
Espresso
Prunes in Madeira
Red Caviar and Sour Cream
Sauteed Calf's Liver
Omelets
Bacon
Crisp Hot Rolls, Butter
Boiled New Potatoes
Cream Cheese
Toasted Rolls
Strawberry Preserves
Marmalade
THREE-DAY RACING PACKAGE//
//Two Liter Two Hundred //
The EnergyWest Grand Prix
LASVENUS VENTURES PRERESERVATION
//NEW OPTIONS EVERY HOUR// FOR FIRST-CLASS PASSAGE
//PLAN YOUR MINIWEEK NOW
//DAYS 6-9, THEPLEASURE TUBE
//Consult your service for details
The screen cuts again, to a woman seated before a table set with a half-dozen wine bottles. Title: TASTE TUNING//THE EXPERIENCE OF WINE. Voice-over: Stay
tuned.
Cuts to: a group of dancers, megastars. I find myself thinking of Knuth, the intense little man from Guam—how I'd like to put him in the wine woman's lap.
I try to contact Giroti, but he is blocked off, we are all blocked off, privatized today. Lunch does not come until it is quite late, but the lunch is crepes, which Collette prepares—light, sweet, delicious—followed by pears and Brie.
I convince Collette that I need some relief from the programming, and she sets up the videon for a MoonGame Co-op—an immensely complicated spinoff from sedentary tennis, played against the computer and other passengers. She is still explaining the rules when the ship jolts.
I feel through the floor the metallic thud, the shudder; I see the draperies sway. We restabilize immediately. I look up at Collette, my heart pounding. The light seems brighter.
"Moving an adjacent unit," she tells me. "Nothing to worry about."
"Tricky business."
"They don't make many mistakes." She grins.
Yet before I can get my defense fully organized on the wall screen, she is pulling my channel, the screen flushes....
"Sorry, you have to see this," she tells me. For a brief moment, still feeling the shudder, I am alarmed about the ship, I am conscious of my breathing, concentrate on steady inhalations, prepare to rise and...
Collette wasn't kidding—the screen and audio don't display Damage Control, they display a VisEd whose subject is the total hologram.
"Where brain-wave anticipation is immediately translated into full spectrum sensation," a pleasant black man says soothingly.
He is describing a loop.
"Where, best of all,
you
are in control," adds a black woman so similar that she might be his sister. They are identically dressed in bright, burnt-orange body stockings, seated together on a lush sofa in an elegant cabin.
"Sometimes," he laughs, they laugh together.
"In the comfort of your cabin—chemical, electrical, visual, audio, tactile—all systems—full spectrum sensation responds to your deepest needs, an ecstasy beyond compare...."
"The only such system in the cosmos is on this ship," she reminds the camera. "A hologram that's more than a hologram, controlled by you, automatically, unconsciously, instantaneously...."
"Orgiastically," the young man adds. "In a way you've never experienced before, including
direct
electrical and chemical stimulation of the hypothalamic center of ecstasy. You are in control."
"Or out of it," the woman laughs, her teeth sparkling white, her leg rising as she runs her hand from her knee down the back of her thigh.
The screen dissolves into moving geometric figures— or parts of figures, shifting, a kaleidoscopic effect. The figures are vaguely genital. The sound of a beat—an exaggerated heartbeat.
The couple begin to describe dosages and instrumentation. I wonder if what they say is true. Collette says that it is. They speak of direct electrical stimulation of the orgasm center of the brain.
"That's dangerous," I say.
"Which is why there's medical clearance," Collette tells me.
"Mmmm. It seems to me that arrangement could, it
could,
kill you."
"Some
NEW BREAKFAST OPTIONS//LASVENUS ONLY
Figs and Prosciutto
Rhubarb Compote
Fettuccine Alfredo
Kedgeree with Curry Sauce
Celery Grissini
Toast Marmalade
Espresso
Prunes in Madeira
Red Caviar and Sour Cream
Sauteed Calf's Liver
Omelets
Bacon
Crisp Hot Rolls, Butter
Boiled New Potatoes
Cream Cheese
Toasted Rolls
Strawberry Preserves
Marmalade
THREE-DAY RACING PACKAGE//
//Two Liter Two Hundred //
The EnergyWest Grand Prix
LASVENUS VENTURES PRERESERVATION
//NEW OPTIONS EVERY HOUR// FOR FIRST-CLASS PASSAGE
//PLAN YOUR MINIWEEK NOW
//DAYS 6-9, THEPLEASURE TUBE
//Consult your service for details
The screen cuts again, to a woman seated before a table set with a half-dozen wine bottles. Title: TASTE TUNING//THE EXPERIENCE OF WINE. Voice-over: Stay
tuned.
Cuts to: a group of dancers, megastars. I find myself thinking of Knuth, the intense little man from Guam—how I'd like to put him in the wine woman's lap.
I try to contact Giroti, but he is blocked off, we are all blocked off, privatized today. Lunch does not come until it is quite late, but the lunch is crepes, which Collette prepares—light, sweet, delicious—followed by pears and Brie.
I convince Collette that I need some relief from the programming, and she sets up the videon for a MoonGame Co-op—an immensely complicated spinoff from sedentary tennis, played against the computer and other passengers. She is still explaining the rules when the ship jolts.
I feel through the floor the metallic thud, the shudder; I see the draperies sway. We restabilize immediately. I look up at Collette, my heart pounding. The light seems brighter.
"Moving an adjacent unit," she tells me. "Nothing to worry about."
"Tricky business."
"They don't make many mistakes." She grins.
Yet before I can get my defense fully organized on the wall screen, she is pulling my channel, the screen flushes....
"Sorry, you have to see this," she tells me. For a brief moment, still feeling the shudder, I am alarmed about the ship, I am conscious of my breathing, concentrate on steady inhalations, prepare to rise and...
Collette wasn't kidding—the screen and audio don't display Damage Control, they display a VisEd whose subject is the total hologram.
"Where brain-wave anticipation is immediately translated into full spectrum sensation," a pleasant black man says soothingly.
He is describing a loop.
"Where, best of all,
you
are in control," adds a black woman so similar that she might be his sister. They are identically dressed in bright, burnt-orange body stockings, seated together on a lush sofa in an elegant cabin.
"Sometimes," he laughs, they laugh together.
"In the comfort of your cabin—chemical, electrical, visual, audio, tactile—all systems—full spectrum sensation responds to your deepest needs, an ecstasy beyond compare...."
"The only such system in the cosmos is on this ship," she reminds the camera. "A hologram that's more than a hologram, controlled by you, automatically, unconsciously, instantaneously...."
"Orgiastically," the young man adds. "In a way you've never experienced before, including
direct
electrical and chemical stimulation of the hypothalamic center of ecstasy. You are in control."
"Or out of it," the woman laughs, her teeth sparkling white, her leg rising as she runs her hand from her knee down the back of her thigh.
The screen dissolves into moving geometric figures— or parts of figures, shifting, a kaleidoscopic effect. The figures are vaguely genital. The sound of a beat—an exaggerated heartbeat.
The couple begin to describe dosages and instrumentation. I wonder if what they say is true. Collette says that it is. They speak of direct electrical stimulation of the orgasm center of the brain.
"That's dangerous," I say.
"Which is why there's medical clearance," Collette tells me.
"Mmmm. It seems to me that arrangement could, it
could,
kill you."
"Some
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