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Omar stepped out of the game lobby and Trevor dismissed his personal one, with barely a glance at the recreation of a nineteenth-century office to jump out of his chair and run across the room.

"Dad wants--" Tucker began.

"Later." He entered the bathroom and relieved himself. That dungeon had taken longer than he'd counted on. There was a lot implants did, canceling bodily functions was not one of them. Maybe he should keep his belt on anytime he played, and not only when he did marathon runs.

He called a projection of his body and looked it over for marks wear from prolonged use of a belt. He was certain he could see it, where the fur hadn't grown back to its proper length. He ran a hand over his fur. He'd keep the belt for when he had to. He stepped in the shower to rinse off, then out into the room to get back in his chair. He wanted to go over the station's network, he had a handful of cases that traced back to Titan and since he was here, he should--

"Trevor," a tiger said, standing next to his chair. Eric was currently neon green, with blood-red stripes designed as arrows pointing to his ass and crotch. Trevor could see the telltale of orange, black, and white underneath that told him his father was getting tired of his current coloring.

"Dad," Trevor answered, stepping around him, only for Eric to grab his arm. Trevor knew what was coming even before Eric handed him the belt.

"You need to come out of this room, Trevor. Mingle with the guests, most of them travel on the Mercury for a chance of meeting us. Of having sex with us."

Trevor rolled his eyes. "Doesn't Tucker fuck enough of them for all of us?"

"Tucker only fucks enough for Tucker. We each have to play our part."

"Dad, I'm no one here. I don't run anything, or throw myself down from orbit to kick ass, and fuck them. I'm just me and I have work to do." Trevor sighed as his father narrowed his eyes. That was the wrong thing to say.

Eric took Trevor by the shoulder. "Son, this is a vacation, you are supposed to relax and not think about work, and you are someone. You are an Orr. You are the corporation. I let you use a different name when you work because you do great work for the public and that would impede it, but you have to remember who you really are. You're Trevor Orr, and people want to spend time in your company."

Trevor didn't roll his eyes, but it was close. His father was too much about 'who they were'. Trevor didn't care about his name, he just wanted to be like everyone else, with a job and his hobbies.

Eric offered him the belt again. "Two hours, Trevor. Spend two hours out of this room and with the guests. You're going to enjoy it, you'll see. Then you can spend the next two days before we leave lost in your head."

"I'm not in my head dad, I'm in the system, making sure no one takes advantage of the loopholes."

"Titan isn't your jurisdiction, Trevor."

Trevor took the belt. There was no winning this. His father's dampened emotion gave him near-infinite patience, and Trevor was already fidgeting, fighting not to look at his notifications. "Two hours," he said, putting the belt on and extending a pair of cargo pants from it.

"Two hours in the company of guests, that means talking and fucking, Trevor; not finding a corner to hide in," Eric said, heading out of the room wearing only his belt. "And no splitting your attention. I want all of it on the here and now, Trevor."

Grumbling under his breath about how unfair his father was, Trevor followed him. He could survive two hours without running traces. He set a timer to count down the time left until he regained his freedom.

* * * * *

Melor Bareback went over the game's option, before walking out of the Lands of Farr lobby. It was his end of game ritual, looking over the game's notifications, upcoming events, and planned changes. He then went over his personal settings, ensuring they hadn't changed while he played; they hadn't. They never did.

In the forty years since he'd first played the Lands, he couldn't point to one time when he'd found an alteration. The admins were experts at not having changes to the game affect player settings. But he still did this every time, looking for any excuse not to return to his personal lobby, where his employer would be notified he was officially available.

When he'd taken the job of personal assistant to Senior Corporate head Louis Ruslonav, forty years ago, it had been with pride that he'd done so. He'd been handpicked by the gorilla, and he'd expected that after a decade or two learning what it took to keep the entire eastern district of the Vanguard continent under control he'd move on to head one of the smaller industries as he made his own progress toward becoming Senior head himself.

"Poor deluded fool you are, David," he told the imaged of Melor as he stored the unchanged settings. "You're nothing but a glorified sex toy."

He didn't mind the sex, he was a full-blooded Vanguard man, and sex was definitely a thing men did. But Ruslonav had picked him especially because of how well hung David was and had caged his cock within seconds of David agreeing to work for the gorilla. Louis Ruslonav had a small cock that he was unnaturally proud of, fully natural, no alterations, Ruslonav was entirely natural, which he considered the best way to be. And as such, he believed himself to be an amazing lover, and it was David's job to make sure that illusion was never broken.

Outside of the game, David hadn't had one orgasm in forty years. If his boss knew the Lands of Farr had adult zones, David was certain he'd forbid him from playing, David didn't need anyone other than Louis to reach orgasm.

No wonder the gorilla had insisted on a lifetime contract. David would have walked out after a year of this kind of treatment. He'd even considered trying to have the contract annulled, but how would that have looked, a lowly assistant dragging a Senior Corporate Head into court over what was, in the end, sexual dissatisfaction. He couldn't claim Louis didn't do his part, since the contract didn't indicate the gorilla had to teach David anything; David had just thought...

"Ten years, David. One decade and then you can officially walk away under the retirement clause. You got him to respect your game time, so you can survive this."

Survive. He hadn't looked into why Louis had needed a new assistant. Back then he'd figured he had just moved on. Now he didn't want to know.

Out of excuses to stay in the game's lobby he dismissed it and was in a representation of his office, with screens keeping track of everything his boss needed to do his job. Louis might not have taught him anything, but David had had to learn regardless, and he was confident that once he was out of the contract he'd be able to hold a company under proper control.

"David," Louis' voice resounded through his personal lobby. "I need you to assist me."

"Yes, sir," David replied, dismissing the lobby and finding himself in a closet of a room, lying on the bed. He relieved himself, brought up a projection of himself, and looked at the brown bear. Louis didn't care how disheveled he was, so long as he was lubed, but David still had some pride in his appearance. He'd shower after this.

He stepped into the luxurious room, where the overweight gorilla stood next to the bed, his small erection barely visible. He didn't have to say or do anything else, David was well trained at this point. He placed himself over the edge of the bed and got ready to put on a show that would win him awards if it ever made it to the public forums.

* * * * *

Paul Longpine gave a quick glance at the upcoming events, highlighting the ones he might have time to participate in, depending on how quickly he could resolve this fucking court case, and find work to cover the cost of flying here.

He let out a breath. "Don't get pissy Bobby, there's no one here to appreciate it." He dismissed the game's lobby directly to him opening his eyes. He had nothing in his personal lobby that needed to be dealt with right now.

The ceiling was above him. Bobby knew that because he hadn't moved from his bed. All he saw was the gray of it without details, and the form of the handle floating in the air. He reached to his left and took the visor. Once it was on, his vision came into something resembling focus.

Implant Dissociative Connectivity, the experts called his condition. The only recorded case of it. His implant worked fine, as far as scans showed, it just didn't seem to connect properly with the organic part of his brain, or at least, it had to be that, since the implant did work fine, according to the scans. They'd decided it was because he'd been implanted at four, instead of the legal age of eight. If his father had been available by the time Bobby had been diagnosed at sixteen, he would have been under a metric ton of legal trouble, but his old man had vanished by then, leaving Bobby to deal with his troubles alone, not that he'd been much help when he was around.

Bobby grabbed the handle and pulled himself to a seated position. He could have gotten a room with a more advanced bed that would change its configuration to let him get out of it easier, but his finances were already stretched to none existence.

He massaged his legs before pulling them to the edge and then over it so he sat on the edge of the bed. He took the braces and put them around each leg. They came online, and he raised each one. The braces worked well. They were basic models, but at least he hadn't had to pay for them. The medical company had been overjoyed at the challenge of building them. In a society where just about anything could be treated by lying on a medical table, challenges didn't come often for people in the medical field.

At least his legs were the only part of him that had motor function problems. Bobby didn't want to think how he'd have functioned if his arms, or even just his hands, had the same lack of coordination and sensory input as his legs.

He stood, and the walls came into sight, a mesh at the edge of his vision. Anything beyond four meters only registered as the mesh, gaining details as they came closer, at around one meter they even gained color.

He took care of business, then got dressed and headed out of his small room. He kept an eye on any entopic work that needed to be done, and bid on those he saw would be quick enough to finish before the ship flew back to Earth.

He did two by the time his turn came to sit before the judge with his accuser at his side.

"Mister Power, how do you plead to the accusation of not honoring the contract with McGoffrey Mining?"

"The same as I did when I responded to the summons, your Honor, with this report dated twenty years ago showing that the ID tag I was assigned at birth was stolen by an unknown party and that I was assigned a new tag. My lawyer made that report available to the representative of McGoffrey Mining when they demanded I show up in person."

The weasel at the other table stood. "Your Honor, this is clearly an attempt by the defendant to use that report to foster his crime onto some other party. It is clear his tag was used and as such my client demands full payment for the shipment they delivered."

"What am I going to do with three tons of platinum?" Bobby demanded of the weasel. "I do entopic design, not manufacturing. And with what money do you expect me to pay? Haven't you looked at my accounts?" He glared. "Don't answer that, I know you did. Because my previous tag was copied, I've put security on all my accounts and I'm informed anytime someone looks at them."

"Mister Power," the judge said before the weasel replied. "Why did you travel here if you have all this evidence invalidating the claim?"

"Because, your Honor," Bobby said, eyes fixed on the weasel, "as per SolGov Judicial ruling 432-65-3-1, if a defendant does not answer a summons in a timely manner, they automatically forfeit the case. I had to come and show you what my lawyer showed him because I can't afford the amount they're asking in reparation, and under Orr Corp Law, I'd be handed over to the SolGov Judicial system for punishment for that kind of amount."

"He never--" the weasel started.

"I see the communication logs right here," the judge cut him off. "If you, specifically didn't get informed, look within your company. This is definitely looking like an abuse of legal authority. I judge in favor of the defendant."

"Sir?" Bobby asked, and the judge nodded. "I had to pay to come here for something that could have been resolved without requiring it. I'd like to ask that my expenses be moved over to McGoffrey Mining's lawyer as a way of discouraging them from making this a habit with other cases."

"Your Honor, that's unreasonable," the weasel said. "I'm only exercising my right to protect my client."

"You could have done that without forcing Mister Power to travel here. I judge that Mister Power's expenses for his flight here and back to Earth be transferred to Armilave Law, effective immediately."

Bobby got a notification of the transfer into his account and he breathed a little easier. He didn't press for his lodging, that expense was minor compared to the flight. "Thank you, your Honor."

"This case is closed."

Bobby headed to his room to see how many other contracts he could fill in the eighteen hours he had left before flying home.

* * * * *

Marc Bonesword opened the exclusive access window and looked through the messages there. Nothing important, a notice from The Count that the Gaia Server would be getting an update within the year to bring it more in line with its counterpart on the Colonies. Good to know, but not something that would affect him, he hadn't played the Colony version of that world since he'd been deployed. He closed it and exited the game.

After taking care of business he printed himself a meal and ate as he went over the new submission from his clients and the embedded messages giving him an idea that something was happening back home. There had been a volley of communication over the last decade from the overseer he only knew as Anderson that led him to believe they might be moving on, and not willingly.

Horace didn't take part in the spy business, his job was to monetize the AI's hobbies by distributing their books, songs, movies, sculptures, paintings; he particularly enjoyed the visual mediums. He missed Cassius's movies, that Beta knew how to film a hot sex scene. Now he had to wait for them to be released through Orr Corp, like everyone else.

Horace didn't know what that was about. Normally, when he was instructed to drop a client, it meant hat agent and their Beta were being 'retired'; which usually meant they'd died in the field. Cassius's retirement had been followed by a black market release of three new movies. Out of curiosity, Horace had watched them, expected them to be forgeries, but he was familiar with Cassius's style; they had been originals. That told him that agent hadn't died, but had been cut off. Then the contract had been picked up by Orr Corp and the flurry of messages from Anderson had started.

Horace was happy not to be caught in the center of whatever was going on.

He put on Mirabel's newest musical piece and bobbed his head to it as he contacted the people who were the best match to put his charge's product's onto the market.

* * * * *

Nori considered another character, Volir could do with fine-tuning, his cloak wasn't the right color.

'Did you lose track of time, again?' a message popped up. A private one, not a game one. He looked at the time. He had. Volir would have to wait. He clapped his hands twice, and the visuals of the game lobby dissolved into darkness.

He reached behind his head and found the mask's seam by touch. He tapped the unlock code and the pressure on his head relaxed. He pulled the mask off and blinked at the light. Hadn't he turned that down? He brought up his arm, but the interface was on the dresser.

"There you are," a woman said. "You do know we're here for work, right?"

"Yes Nishida, I know. Sorry, I was doing character management."

She rolled her eyes. "Wearing that monstrosity, you were doing a lot more than that."

Nori looked down at himself. "This isn't a monstrosity, it's a fully immersive sensory suit." He placed his hand in the sensor space before him and did the gesture that instructed the suspension array to bring him to the floor. When he had enough money, he'd invest in a gravity controlled environment, it should be more responsive.

"You encase yourself into that bondage thing and let it shove stuff into your orifices, it's a monstrosity. You want sex, there's a station full of guys who'd be better than that."

"I can't play Lands of Farr while I'm with them." He disconnected the cables. "Sex is incidental to me playing the game."

"Right," she drolled. "What's the name of that guild you're part of again? The big cocks?"

"The Cocky Bastards, stop screwing it up on purpose. I didn't come up with it. It was Trevor's idea. He formed it. And we spend most of our time doing quests, the sex is our celebration."

"I don't get why you associate with those corporate people, Nor."

Nori sighed. "In the game, we're not Independents or Corporates, we're players. We're guild brothers. It's the one place where I don't get looked down upon for who I am."

"So your friends know your Independent?"

Nori didn't answer, focusing on taking off the skin-tight suit. The next model he got had to come with scent cancellation tech, he stank.

"That's what I thought," she said. "It's not equality if you lie--"

"I'm not lying! They never asked. It's not something we ask in the game. Maybe they're all Independents, I don't know, and I don't care. It's in the game, not out here." He sighed. Way to go, Nori; now she's going to know it means more to you than that. He'd really hoped they could have met up. He wanted to know who his guildmates were, and yes they were probably corporate, but that didn't matter to him, and he knew it wouldn't matter to them that he was Independent. A lack of an implant didn't make him less of a person.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to diminish the game, I just think you need to realize the world in there isn't out here. We're not equal out here."

"I know. I guess it's why I like it so much there. I can be me, instead of Nori Taklashi, Independent."

She smiled, "speaking of being a Taklashi, get cleaned up, we need to go negotiate a contract for the ores the rest of our family's mining."

"I'll be ready in five," he said, reaching for his interface.

She snorted. "We don't have five hours."

"But I have one. That's plenty. Stop bothering me so I can get out of the suit and get cleaned up." He read the suit's information. It was due to have the waste system cycled, that meant half a day without playing. That would make his sister happy. He set the array on standby and walked out of it, heading for the bathroom. He might as well take the suit off in the shower, the inside did need a wash too.

* * * * *

Trevor lied in bed, arms over his chest, bodies pressed against him. Someone was licking his balls. Trevor was going over the station's news feed, there had been an extortion case he could investigate, he'd drop the information he found in the local investigator's report anonymously. Format it as an automated return on a query the investigator had filed. The woman wasn't exactly at the top of her game. He'd already given her enough information to close three other cased during the Mercury's stay at Titan. That would let her close a fourth--

Someone shook him.

He blinked and dismissed his lobby to look in Tucker's eyes.

"If Dad knew you'd been out there, while in here with guest, he'd be pissed."

"I wasn't--"

"Save it, Trev. You had a girl sucking you off. If you'd known she was in here, she wouldn't have made it that close to your cock. I know you."

That had been a girl? Trevor shrugged. "I have nothing against girls."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "And neither do I. Doesn't mean I'm interested in having one in my bed." He offered Trevor his hand. "Time to get up, we're leaving the station in twenty, so we have door duty."

Trevor groaned. "Come on. I did my two hours of community service, fuck, I've been in this bed for half a day I'm entitled to not be out there wishing everyone boarding a good trip and thanking everyone leaving for traveling with us." He took his brother's hand.

"Poor little martyr. So miserable because he's rich and wealthy. Suck it up, buttercup. Family comes with duty."

"If I suck you off, will you tell dad you couldn't find me?"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "You aren't that good. Come on. Once we're disconnected from the station, you know dad's going to relax and you can spend most to the trip back inside the system."

"He's going to relax because he knows I know the Mercury's system so intimately I can give it an orgasm. There's not a lot to do once we're away from everything. I'm going to have to wait until the Mars stop for entertainment."

"Can you really give the ship an orgasm?" Tucker asked. Putting the belt on Trevor.

"Of course not, it's a ship. I can't even give one to Uncle unless he allows it to happen."

"Where is Uncle, anyway?"

Trevor shrugged. "He said something about a meeting, I'm guessing it's about that secret project of his."

"So you don't know about it either?"

Trevor shook his head. "No, where ever he's storing that information he's pulled out all the tricks to keep me from finding it."

Tucker pulled his brother to the door. "There you go, you'll have something to do once we're off. You can also interrogate Uncle, he won't be able to run away from you either."

Trevor snorted. Tucker had no concept of how vast the informational space was within the Mercury's system. There was enough to explore for years, which he had done during his first enforced vacation. After that, it took him a few days to find out what had changed, and then it was just the boring same thing.

Once Uncle began traveling on the Mercury, the game of cat and mouse they played was entertaining, but now that secret project meant Uncle wasn't playing around anymore and was demonstrating to Trevor the difference between an AI and a living person when it came to manipulating informational space.

"You really going to do door duty naked?" Tucker asked as they walked along the corridors. "This close to SolGov space that's pretty bold of you."

"You're telling me to put pants on? Mister holds the record for the number of indecent exposure infraction within SolGov territory?"

"No, I'm pointing out you're not me." Tucker grinned. "I mean I'm not afraid of the competition if that's what you're going for, but I don't know that Dad is going to let you walk around the station naked this close to departure."

Trevor rolled his eyes and gave himself tight leather pants that showed everything he was offering. That would show Tucker. After half a dozen steps he made them looser, and then canvas. The tight stuff was way more uncomfortable than he expected.

Tucker smirked at him.