Read Online Outcast by Alex Douglas - Free Book Online

the price they'd paid to escape. Flack was the only other one old enough to remember the wearying pain of the constant experiments, and he'd been there to see the piece of Prez's soul that had splintered off in the process and left the gaping loneliness that no amount of drinking or mindless sex would ever fill.
    Ignoring the others' cries of no, stay!, he went out and wandered blindly through the recreation section which was crowded with the chatter of the miners as they sipped colorful drinks and munched on bowls of Skits at their little tables under the false sun. The recording of the violence was playing all over the corridors and he felt the miners' gazes fall on him, not just curious or contemptuous as usual, but with a hint of sympathy that almost made him retch.
    At the end of the walkway, there was a garden with a fountain shaped like a huge fish vomiting up emerald water, shining green metal under the bright lights. Not knowing what to do, he sat on a bench and looked at his hands. There was a smell of roasted baba beans, the hum of conversation. The chip in his head was buzzing and he groaned. He'd forgotten the device to turn it off; now he would be tortured with its chattering of stupid words and phrases, the sort of thing that had made him a laughing stock that afternoon. He needed to be away from people, he needed more mukkesh , he needed a fuck. Anything to forget about Akilia, the memories the footage of the compounds was stirring up. And then there was Garlo...
    The bench shifted as someone settled beside him. " Ku-tah ," an oily voice said in the common language. "You look like one who could use some company."
    It was one of the Belaari miners, her thick arms covered in tattoos, violet eyes blackened with eye paint. Prez looked away. "Thanks," he said. "But I'm not into Belaari, no offense."
    A low chuckle. "I didn't mean me," she said. "I know a laar who runs a place. You'll like it. Come with me."
    Prez hesitated for a moment. No Lan, no Flack, no Doc. No one to watch his back and make sure he didn't get into any shit. What did it matter? He was an adult, he didn't need looking after. He was always responsible, for the crew, the ship, finding work and the constant paperwork; why the fuck shouldn't he cut loose now and then? The gnawing loneliness suddenly bloomed sour in his belly, and he followed the laar , drunk and reckless and numb to the soul and trying hard to put one foot in front of the other without falling down.

Chapter Four

    Lan woke up to the piped tinkle of Belaari birdsong and stretched out, refreshed. With the permanent darkness outside, he had no idea of the time, and they had not yet turned on the artificial daylight generator inside the room. When his eye fell on the clock, he froze. He was late.
    He sprang out of bed and almost dashed from the room naked when he remembered that he should dress. The robes he'd been wearing smelled a little, but he put them on anyway, making sure to tie them up correctly. He'd been aware of Prez's amused glances earlier, and vowed to purchase something more appropriate that very evening.
    The temperature of the port was set at Belaari standards, nice and warm. Whistling, he made his way down the carpeted corridor of the guest quarters and out into the brightness of the artificially lit leisure area. His eyes cast about, taking in the hydroponic garden where a wall of climbing kosoa released their spicy perfume into the air, the neon lights of the shops and restaurants, the blue-clad Belaari miners sitting around in large groups. Lan checked an InfoCon screen for the location of the restaurant and frowned. It was the most remote restaurant in the whole area.
    Prez wouldn't mind that he was late; the others would be there to keep the party going and Lan was glad he wouldn't be expected to consume alcohol, or waste his little remaining money on card games and whatever else the ku-tah did for pleasure. The port had a well-equipped library where he meant to