Journal Entry 245 / 0519 The broad outdoor patio was filled with sunlight, a glowing hot day illuminating the world around me.Journal Entry 245 / 0519 The broad outdoor patio was filled with sunlight, a glowing hot day illuminating the world around me. From here I had a beautifully clear view of the entire valley. Which, in retrospect, may have been a mistake; sure, I could see the whole Rhysh from here, but that also met I could see behind the scenes. Although, Pendorian technology being what it was, that meant I could see just a few small concrete bunkers hiding the accesses. It wasn't that much, and I guess only an engineer would have really found them. But what occupied my thoughts was that I could not for the life of me figure out what Lynn had in mind. Lynn is the AI that runs Castle Rhysh, here on the westward-most edge of Backwater, the enormous theme park of Pendor, for people who just don't want to hack reality for a few day, months, or years. Rhysh is Pendor's sexual playground, a place full of people in roles of masters and servants, all carefully dressed in outrageous modes of dress from the hypermodern and plasticene to the very ancient and cumbersome. One of the more popular ways of restraining the 'slaves' recently was to simply dress them in nearly thirty kilos of hoops, corsets, and such. Nobody runs very fast when carrying thirty kilos. But the note she had sent me was so cryptic. "Come to Castle Rhysh on the ninth of Urime' for an evening you will never forget. Go to the southern patio on the fifth floor." I was drinking from a snifter something not quite brandy. It was quite tasty though. Earlier I had seen a couple go by, two females, a Markal in a gorgeous black cape leading a Mephit about by a black leather leash. The Mephit had, as Mephits go, astoundingly large breasts, restrained and emphasized by a tightly-laced bodice made of gleaming leather. Now in Rhysh, this is usually no big deal. But what seized my attention as they walked by was the splash of brilliant red at the Mephit's throat. I focused on it and it resolved into a rose, the stem leading downward and held between those breasts. I wondered, as they walked by, if I should hope or fear the stem still had it's thorns. |