Pat Cadigan - Datableed

The pale man looked even paler on the phone-screen inset. “Deeper Penetration isn’t a sex club,” he said as if he were accusing her of something.

“Oh, you know the place,” she said, still feeling a little breathless. “In that case you could—”

“I want her in flagrante delicto, do you understand? I’m not going to pay you to get me something where I have to put on a hotsuit so I can have the sense experience of putting on a hotsuit.”

“Maybe that’s her perversion,” suggested Calgary.

“Maybe that’s your perversion,” the man said contemptuously. “I told you— in flagrante delicto, sex, sex, sex, and nothing but!”

“Look, mister,” Calgary said, “what if you were wrong, what if she’s not having sex, sex, sex? If she isn’t, I certainly can’t force her—”

“You said you found her there. But you didn’t go all the way in and find out what she was doing. I didn’t pay you to find her in a hotsuit, I can do that myself. Now go on in there with her and find out who she’s doing it with! ” He broke the connection as if he were throwing the phone across the room.

“Resume,” Calgary told the headmount with a sigh.

This Deeper Penetration was not, as she had hoped, a sex club. The waiting room decor still bordered on imperceptible. Even worse, she couldn’t really tell if the receptionist recognized her or not.

“For a quite-reasonable fee, you may enter a cubicle and enjoy the use of a hotsuit for whatever period of time you choose—”

“I know how VR works,” Calgary said. “We’re in VR right now, and you know it!”

“That is the tenet of several otherwise differing theologies,” the receptionist said smoothly. “However, my current employment precludes my being able to comment either way on any religious or political belief held by any of our chents or potential chents. Can I quote you a price or answer any other questions having directly to do with Deeper Penetration?”

“Yeah,” Calgary said. “Yeah, you can answer a question for me. I guess I can almost understand how you’re getting away with the first one, but how the hell are you getting away with this? ”

The receptionist’s radiant smile was quite distinct, even sideways. It lit up the whole room or area, or whatever this was. “How does anyone get away with anything?”

Calgary pulled a virtual photo out of her virtual pocket and stuck it under the receptionist’s nose. “All right, all right, we’ll take the long way home. My resources say this woman is currently in your establishment. Is that true?”

“I can’t tell you that. That would be a violation of client confidentiality—”

“But this isn’t real, goddamit—”

“However, if you’d like to make a contribution to our Orphaned and Widowed Homeless Fund, so that we can bring the joy of the virtual experience to those who cannot afford the luxury of hotsuit-in-a-tube—”

Calgary sighed and found her virtual wallet. No matter how baroque or Byzantine human behavior ever became, it would always come down to this: bribing the case on the door. Whoever was behind it was fairly smart; automata couldn’t be prosecuted for taking bribes. Her currency twinkled briefly and vanished; the receptionist grew a little more visible to the direct gaze. “Well?” Calgary said.

The receptionist handed her a squeeze-tube; Calgary saw it was the brand of cool minty gel she liked. “Penetrate Deeper and see what you find.”

“No!” said Calgary, but it was too late. The entire entry sequence had somehow gotten by her so quickly that it might have been an errant thought passing through her mind on its way to the oblivion of the legendary brain-cell graveyard.

The receptionist’s radiant smile was quite distinct, even sideways. It lit up the whole room or area, or whatever this was. “How does anyone get away with anything?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said as her virtual hand pulled out the virtual picture of the pale man’s wife. “This woman, donation, in there, penetrate deeper—”

The receptionist put the tube in her outstretched hand. “And see what you find.”

The phone call announced itself as long distance. Calgary figured it was all those layers that it had to go through to get to the pale man.

“I quit,” she said.

“I’ll sue you.” His tone wasn’t threatening, simply matter-of-fact. “I’ll sue you, and I’ll own you.”

“You don’t scare me,” she said. “I’m quitting right now.”

“Fine. I’m suing right now. By the end of the day, I’ll own you.”

“Yeah? Well, you’ll have to catch me first.” This time, she broke the connection first. The eyescreen lit up; she walked the Mainline; she found Deeper Penetration. This time, she snatched the hand-lettered sign off the woman’s headmount and rang for interrupt and communication.

There was a short pause. “Did he send you?” The woman’s voice, filtered by the outside speaker, was apprehensive but not quite scared.

“Originally,” Calgary said. “Right now, I’m in freefall. I’d just like to know how much further in I have to go before… uh…”

“Before you hit bottom?”

“Yes, exactly. Before I hit—”

“There is no bottom,” the woman told her. ‘You knew that, right?”

“Yeah,” Calgary said, “yeah, I guess I did.”

“Try again.” Now the woman sounded amused.

“All right.” Calgary thought for a moment. “How far down do you have to go before you’re coming back up again?”

“I don’t know,” said the woman. “I’m going to penetrate deeper and see. What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Calgary said. “I’ll catch up.”