<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/4z0m5i8.jpg)</div>The touch of starlight came into the room as the window panels of Camila's room gradually retracted. The place was home to two occupants. Sitting on the bed shirtless was a client in a male Menton morph with an obviously cybernetic arm. All it took was a mental command, an electrical impulse from the cyberbrain running down the spine, to inject some nanotoxins into his system to get in the mood. He lazily gazed at the woman on the other side of the room, clad only in a wrap-around pink towel deciding which drink to fabricate.<br/><br/>"Do you prefer an olive or lemon twist in your martinis?" she asked.<br/><br/>"Lemon."<br/><br/>Camila already knew the answer, but asked anyway. It gave the sense of consideration many of his ilk craved.<br/><br/>The client's profile pinned him as a Venusian dilettante, too progressive for a hardline Consortium job yet too Inner System to toss away their bank account and go full Rep. C-Net and all the social networks were chock full of tiny little things to indicate a client's preferences. An approval ping here, amount of time spent on specialty bio-engineered petstore sites there, and she could compile a person's life story. Taken but in an open relationship, he was less a discreet customer with a dark secret and more a "casual" client who wanted to experience a change of pace by egocasting to a high-rise interstellar brothel.<br/><br/>A pair of drinks in hand made entirely from microscopically-generated material (she also chose lemon), the escort crawled onto the bed using her knees for balance.<br/><br/>"You travel by spaceship often?" the client asked. "Don't get me wrong, it's nice and roomy, but it can get...I dunno, feel tiny drifting through space?"<br/><br/>Camila smiled. "I was born in in the Caribbean, fled to Jupiter by transport ship, and egocast to brinker habs. I spent far too long ground-bound on Earth, on the Jovian moons, or outer system compounds that this feels liberating in comparison. One month we might be cruising by Mars and get shore leave to have some fun in Elysium. Next few months might take us out to Extropia, where the latest morph breakthroughs are being made among brilliant innovators unchained by hypercorp oversight.<br/><br/>Laying down on the pillow with a sip from her martini, Camila let her towel fall off with a slip of the finger, revealing her beautiful brown form. Freshly clean and glistening in the starry view of space beyond, she was a sight to behold.<br/><br/>"Come here, sweetie. Let's lose ourselves for tonight as we make love among the stars..."