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She takes ride on the wild side with biker babe.

sibly take offense to that? Hey, what are you unscrewing there?"

A small rectangle of whatever chrome material the XP device was made out of came off in Quinn's hand. "Typical League design. They want to keep you from all the nasty stuff, but they're so accommodating that the whole machine just undresses itself for you and lets itself get hacked." Quinn fiddled around a bit behind the device. "There. Now it should be a bit more receptive to the good stuff."

"So what next?" said Richard.

"Next? We enjoy." Quinn slithered his tongue across the top pair of his lips. He hit a small white button, and instantaneously the world around Richard fell away.

He was floating in a blue abyss, soaked in low-level comfort. It was how he had felt as an undergrad stretched out with a book on the quad lawns, amazed at the warmth of early spring. Or those late nights at the pub in grad school, arguing string theory with his friends. It was the kind of happiness you were only aware of when it was about to end, and you got up with heavy legs.

Quinn was next to him, and he suddenly seemed much less repulsive. In fact, it seemed cruel to have judged him so harshly to begin with. He was just a neighbour, trying to help a new arrival. Richard waved lightly to Quinn. "You were right. This is great."

Quinn snickered. "This? This is the lobby."

"Oh." Richard frowned. He felt like a yokel visiting the big city for the first time, neck craning up to see where the buildings met the sky. "Well, how to we get to the main event."

"First off, we shift over to our pirate module." Quinn had a pedagogically smug look on his face. He muttered a word that Richard couldn't make sense of, some strange amalgamation of overlapping consonants. The world around them shifted to an offensive, bright-red void. Richard was still strangely happy, but now it was a happiness tinged with a bit of anger and a bit of fear. Maybe a bit like running an experiment, he thought.

Quinn smacked his lips. "Load XBrothel."

There was no fading, no gradual descent. Before Richard's mind could process it, they were in a cozy room with low lighting, sitting on an old-fashioned couch with only one arm. The whole room was covered in exotic-looking rugs and tapestries. The only exit he could see was throw a silk curtain, although shadows hung in the corners and obscured much of the room. Sitting across from them, on a similar couch, was a mature-looking woman dressed in an elegant black gown. She had a gray streak in her hair and a knowing smile that made her in equal measure frightening and desirable.

"Um... hello," said Richard. He really hated being amazed. "I'm Richard."

The woman's knowing grin grew deeper. "You can call me Madame... shall we say Lucille? I've always liked the sound of that."

"Hi, Lucille. Uh, where are we?"

Quinn elbowed him in the side. "No need to be chatty. She's a program."

Lucille expounded with a faint Eastern European flair, like the last in a line of debauched aristocrats. "This is my own personal house of iniquity. We can fulfil any desire you have, and introduce you to ones you never knew. Any fetish, any species, anything you want. If you just want to murder someone, we can accommodate you. In fact, we can do the reverse. But even if your interests don't run towards the exotic, we can offer you depths of pleasure you've never known before."

It was a rousing speech, and Richard found himself entranced by the cadence of Lucille's syllables. Quinn leaned in and whispered in his ear. "This is an old program, but this guy I know updated it and refitted it for humans. Not that we have to stick to human..."

"So," said Madame Lucille. "What do you want?"

"What I want," said Quinn with obvious relish. "Is for you to suck my dick."

Even knowing that this was a world of virtual wish-fulfilment, Richard expected Quinn to get slapped and the two of them to be thrown out onto the streets of some virtual slum.

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