Outcast by Alex Douglas Read Free Book Online

forced the word out. " Happy ."
      "Oh," Lan said. "Perhaps I have read incorrect literature regarding the emotional reactions of... your people."
    A burst of laughter, then some sniffles. "Oh, Lan," Prez said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "You sound like a computer."
    Lan raised an eyebrow. "Would... hugging ... be appropriate?"
    Prez laughed again. "It's a celebratory thing, where I come from. But you don't like touching, I've noticed. Sorry about before."
    "It is necessary for me to become accustomed to the ways of other cultures if I am to function successfully in this system," Lan said. "If we are to celebrate, then let us... hug ."
    "Come here then," Prez said, and wrapped his arms around Lan, who settled his arms around Prez's shoulders in what he hoped was the correct manner. Prez's body was hard and warm, and the sensation of being squeezed was surprisingly pleasant. "Oh boy," Prez's voice was muffled. His fingertips stroked against the skin on Lan's neck for a second, then he pulled away. The tears had stopped, and he was smiling again, his eyes red but bright. "Sometimes you just need to touch someone, you know? To feel like you aren't alone." He ran his hands through his hair. "I'd better go and tell the others. This is a historic day, my friend."
    Lan smiled tentatively. "It is."
    "Will you be okay to get us to the jump gate? Should be there in less than an hour."
    "I will be okay."
    "Okay." Prez looked at the console. "Buzz if you need me."
    "I will buzz."
    "Okay." There was a silence. "Thank you."
    "For what?"
    "I don't know."
    "Okay."
    "Mother of skies!" Prez exclaimed again and bounded over to the access shaft. He slid down, and Lan could hear whooping noises echo around the metal walls of the corridor below, then the shut of the sliding doors that led to the underbelly of the ship, where he and his crew would -- no doubt -- soon be hugging . He remembered the glow of Prez's grin and smiled to himself, rubbing his belly. It began to flutter under his palm, and he frowned at the unfamiliar sensation. He re-read the surprisingly long list of ingredients on the Skits packet to see what could be causing it, but they were all IPF approved substances.
    Shrugging, he settled into his seat and lifted his own personal Tablet. He'd been reading an electronic book on the modern political history of Belaar, leading up to the Treaty of Goodwill with the Andrans and the formation of the trade route between the neighboring systems. He brought up the page he'd left and started to read, hoping that the dry description of Belaari jump gate technology would make the feeling go away.

    ***

    It was all Prez could do to stop his crew cracking out the mukkesh right there and then.
    "We can't," he said, switching to the compound language they all spoke. "We're going through a jump gate soon, then I have to meet with the Belaari contact on arrival at the port. It won't look good if we all show up pissed out of our skulls."
    Glitch cradled the bottle in her hands, beaming. "Only one?"
    "There's never only one . We'll hit the bars at the port, don't worry."
    Vaxel was sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I wish we could help transport them out of that plague-infested shithole," he said. "Instead of getting another load of old cargo to haul around."
    "Well," Prez said. "This old cargo is the job we've been waiting for all these years. We're going to be rich , my friend!" Then a thought struck him and he held up a finger. "And as Citizens , we're entitled to full payment now. Holy fuck, that's something, isn't it?"
    "Citizens," Glitch murmured.
    They sat in silence for a moment, thinking about the tremendous concept.
    "We're citizens of nowhere," Kris said glumly. "If the planet's closed, then we've got no fucking home at all."
    Glitch frowned. "The Outcast is our home," she said and gestured around the engineering section, at her workstation where a miniature tree -- decorated with tiny red baubles for Kiz-Mah -- bloomed in a pot