I, Ilion (the name I had taken for myself after using the portal on my cell phone to travel to 2084), still had an hour or two to kill that night in Old Orleans after interacting with the old man in the shadows on the corner who had promised he could spirit me away to the original New Orleans, which I knew was at the bottom of the Bay of Mississippi in that era -- and that Old Orleans was really what I would have called Tuscaloosa in my time, although Tuscaloosa was never a port city as this Old Orleans was now.
The arrangement I had made with Mattie 3.0, a character I had written into some short stories back before I made the time jump who had been de-fictionalized by 2084. was that I would be as inconspicuous as possible while I was waiting for him to finish his shift at the sex-porium, so as not to alert anyone to my presence.
Luckily for me, the creators of Old Orleans had gone out of their way to make the experience on this Bourbon Street as retro as possible, so everyone I passed was mostly focused on letting their own good times roll, and a visitor from the future without the telltale sixth texting finger that humans had evolved into having (with a little help from the genetic engineering that the Population Control Board had pioneered in the zoos where the next generation was raised) wasn't to be noticed lurking in the background.
I had previously noted that those creators had succeeded in capturing most of the sights and smells of the famed party street, but as I wandered around to pass the time, I finally realized what was missing.
There were no beads -- and there were no activities that used to power the bead economy. No flashes of breasts or asses or other body parts ... no cat calls. The drunkenness was ever-present around every corner ... but the lasciviousness was missing.
Captain Sandy had briefed me on the boat ride from the Florida Isles about how sex was all of the virtual kind since children were grown in the zoo labs and the sex act wasn't necessary for procreation to grow the population. But still -- in the time from which I came, alcohol was the social lubricant that quickly turned into a sexual lubricant as the amount consumed increased.
I couldn't fathom how drinking in 2084 wouldn't lead to the same outcome, and yet there was nary a nipple to be seen. I'd have to wait until I had the chance to speak to Mattie 3.0 to get that clarified ... and since the window when the VitalNet updates on the last day of every month is closing, *you'll* have to wait until next time for me to share what I learned.
Until then, I remain Ilion in 2084 using Troy-in-2018's social media to contact you. Please be careful ... the time of the *first* Uprising if rapidly approaching.
