Free Look to Windward by Iain M. Banks

“Okay there?” she said, laughing. Her hair flew about her face and she kept shaking her head.
    â€œOh, I think we’re fine,” Ziller shouted. “And you?”.
    â€œNever better!” the woman yelled, looking up at the blimp and then down at the ground.
    â€œTo go back to this thing about cheating,” Ziller said.
    She laughed. “Yes? What?”.
    â€œThis whole place is a cheat.”
    â€œHow so?” She flicked one hand and hung dangerously by a single arm while her other hand, claws stowed, brushed her hair away from her mouth. The movement made Kabe nervous. If he’d been her he’d have worn a cap or something.
    â€œIt’s made to look like a planet,” Ziller shouted. “It’s not.”
    Kabe was watching the still rising sun. It was bright red now. An Orbital sunrise, like an O sunset, tookmuch longer than the same event on a planet. The sky above you brightened first, then the rising star seemed to coalesce out of the infrared, a shimmering vermilion specter emerging out of the haze line and then sliding along the horizon, shining dimly through the Plate walls and the distant abundances of air and only gradually gaining height, though, once it had properly begun, the daylight lasted longer than on a globe. All of which was arguably a gain, Kabe thought, as sunset and sunrises often produced the day’s more spectacular and attractive vistas.
    â€œSo what?” Feli had both hands anchored again.
    â€œSo why bother with this?” Ziller shouted, indicating the blimp. “Fly up here. Use a floater harness—”.
    â€œDo it all in a dream, do it all in VR!” She laughed.
    â€œWould it be any less false?”.
    â€œThat’s not the question. The question is, Would it be any less
fun?”
    â€œWell, would it?”.
    She nodded vigorously. “Abso-fucking-lutely!” Her hair, caught in a sudden updraft, swirled above her head like black flames.
    â€œSo you only think it’s fun if there’s a certain degree of reality involved?”.
    â€œIt’s more fun,” she shouted. “Some people blimp jump as their main recreation, but they only ever do it in … ” Her voice was lost as a gust of wind roared around them; the blimper shuddered and the aircraft trembled a fraction.
    â€œIn what?” Ziller bellowed.
    â€œIn dreams,” she shouted. “There are VR wing-flier purists who make a point of never doing the real thing!”
    â€œDo you despise them?” Ziller yelled.
    The woman looked mystified. She leaned out from the rippling membrane, then detached one hand—this time she left the glove where it was, anchored in the thick filament membrane—dug in her belly pack and clipped something tiny to one nostril. Then she put her hand back into the glove and relaxed back. When she spoke again, it was in a normal speaking voice and—relayed through Kabe’s own nose ring and whatever terminal set-up Ziller was using—it was as though she was sitting right beside each of them.
    â€œDespise
them, did you say?”.
    â€œYes,” said Ziller.
    â€œWhy in the world would I despise them?”.
    â€œThey achieve with minimal effort and no risk what you have to gamble your life on.”
    â€œThat’s their choice. I could do that too if I wanted. And anyway,” she said, glancing up at the blimp above her, then taking a longer look at the skies around, “it’s not exactly the same thing you achieve, is it?”.
    â€œIsn’t it?”.
    â€œNo. You know you’ve been in VR, not reality.”
    â€œYou could fake that, too.”
    She appeared to sigh, then grimaced. “Look, sorry; it’s time to fly, and I prefer to be alone. No offense.” She took her hand out of the glove again, put the nose-stud terminal in her belly pack and, after a struggle, got her hand back in the glove. Kabe thought she looked cold. They