Free Platform by Michel Houellebecq

the only word for them) were owned by generals; that told you what kind of protection they had.
    'I'm a general. . .' interrupted Robert. She was speechless, her lower jaw dropped miserably. 'No, no, I'm only joking . . .' he said with a slight grimace. 'I've never even been in the army.'
    She did not find this funny in the least. She took a moment to pull herself together, then launched back into the fray with renewed energy.
    'It's absolutely shameful that fat yobs can just come over here and take advantage of these girls' poverty with impunity. Of course you know they all come from the north and the northeast, the poorest regions of the whole country.'
    'Not all of them . . .' he objected. 'Some of them are from Bangkok.'
    'It's sexual slavery!' screamed Josiane, who hadn't heard. 'There's no other way to describe it! . . .'
    I yawned a little. She shot me a black look, but went on, calling on the others to give their verdict: 'Don't you think it's disgraceful that any fat old yob can come over here and have it off with these kids for next to nothing?'
    'It's hardly next to nothing . . .' I protested modestly. 'I paid three thousand baht, which is about what you'd pay in France.' Valerie turned and looked at me, surprised. 'You paid a bit over the odds . . .' observed Robert. 'Still, if the girl was worth it . . .'
    Josiane's whole body was trembling, she was starting to unsettle me a little. 'Well!' she shrieked in a very shrill voice, 'It makes me sick, that any fat pig can pay to shove his cock into a kid!'
    'Nobody's forcing you to come with me, madam . . .' Robert replied calmly.
    She got up, trembling, her plate of rice in her hand. All conversation at the next table had stopped. I really thought she was going to chuck the plate in his face, and in the end I think it was only fear that stopped her. Robert looked at her with the most serious expression, the muscles under his polo-neck tense. He didn't look like the sort of person to let himself be pushed around; I could well imagine him punching her. She viciously slammed down her plate, which broke into three pieces, turned on her heel and vanished into the darkness, walking quickly towards the chalets.
    'Tsk . . .' he said softly.
    Valerie was stuck between him and me; he stood up gracefully, walked around the table and sat where Josiane had been sitting, in case Valerie, too, wished to leave the table. She, however, did nothing; at that moment, the waiter brought the coffees. After she had taken two sips, Valerie turned to me again. 'So is it true you've paid for girls? . . .' she asked gently. Her tone was intrigued, but without any real reproach.
    'They're not as poor as all that, these girls,' added Robert; 'they can afford mopeds and clothes, some of them even have their tits done. It's not cheap getting your tits done. It's true they help their parents out, too . . .' he concluded thoughtfully.
    At the next table, after a few whispered comments, everyone quickly left - doubtless out of solidarity. We remained the sole masters of the place, in a sense. The moon now bathed the whole pontoon, which gleamed a little. 'Are they that good, those little masseuses? . . .' asked Rene dreamily.
    'Ah, monsieur!' exclaimed Robert, deliberately grandiloquent, but, it seemed to me, basically sincere, 'they are marvellous, positively marvellous! And you haven't been to Pattaya yet. It's a resort on the east coast . . .'he went on, '. . . completely dedicated to lust and debauchery. The Americans were the first to go there, during the Vietnam war; after that, a lot of English and Germans; now, you get a lot of Russians and Poles. There, they have something for everyone, they cater for all tastes: homosexuals, heterosexuals, transvestites . . . It's Sodom and Gomorrah combined. Actually, it's better, because they've got lesbians, too.'
    'Aaah, aaah . . .' the former pork-butcher seemed thoughtful. His wife yawned placidly, excused herself and turned to her husband; she clearly