Read Online The Pearl (Galactic Jewels Book 1) by Jen Greyson - Free Book Online Page B

from deep in his belly and relaxing his shoulders. The gray shirt beneath hugged his stomach, exposing the ridges of his abdominal muscles. No wonder he exhibited such tension if his entire outfit was so tight. I shifted in my own, breathing deeply until my skin rubbed delightfully against the silk of my kosode. Why wear such an outfit if he hated it so much? He unscrewed the bottle and poured. “Back there—” He held my attention while the neck of the bottle kissed the glass rim. “You were bothered that I hadn’t needed a book. Why?”
    “There are proper ways to do things.” I drew my hands into my lap and tried to ignore the multitude of golds and coppers mingling together against the glass as they caught the lights of the room. My mouth watered and I nearly savored the richness on my lips. I swallowed and dragged my gaze from the glass. “Especially when messing with important things like air mixtures.”
    He grunted and tipped his head back, swallowing the whisky in its entirety. How crass. He gave the glass a sharp twist when he returned it to the table so it spun away. “Fixing ships is a trade.” Hardness edged his voice. “Trades must be taught .”
    “Yes. In a book .” Everyone knew manuals and databases held our knowledge. Without writing lessons, techniques, theories, and historical catalogues, they couldn’t be translated and shared between galaxies.
    Maybe he couldn’t read. “I know about trades. Ask me.”
    He rolled his eyes and slammed another shot of whiskey, then held the empty glass up to the filtered golden light. “Alright then, Tell me how to make whisky—and not lousy Xlen whiskey—tell me about Scotch.”
    I pretended to be stumped, buying time to figure out why he’d picked that subject. I leaned over and lifted the bottle, then settled back in my chair, running a fingertip across the embossed label. “There’s no such thing as Scotch anymore, but you knew that. Shall I tell you how to make Zyldish Whisky—” I glanced up through lowered lashes at his startled grunt. “Or perhaps you’d prefer if I regaled you with the proper method of distilling Aramo?”
    He stared at me, then his eyes narrowed and he plucked the bottle from my fingers, refilling his glass. “Zyldish will do.” He walked away and I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful my presentation with the Zyld had been last month instead of at the beginning of my reign.
    “Zyldish whisky is the closest thing to Scotch that exists in our known universe after the Scottsmen went the way of the Xros during that first war. Damn, they were some warriors.” I glanced behind me, unable to see any more than the top of his fluff of hair while he rummaged in the cabinet, determined to find whatever he was looking for. “Have you seen a Scottsman?” I’d spent too many nights in the database watching old holo videos of Scottish warriors in battle. They’d done their ancestors proud as they’d fallen again on the old battlegrounds.
    “I met a guy who knew one. Off the Bevi galaxy, right there at the time gate into Pia.” He straightened and rolled his shoulders, again looking like the suit was more constricting than comfortable. He stared out the window for a long stretch. “Interesting fellow, full of stories.” A soft laugh emanated from him and for a Zixxby second I flashed to a thought about what he’d be like in a different setting, with his friends, telling stories while they drank whisky. I’d never had an opportunity like that, having trained for my position since childhood. Fransín had made a sim once that had included a brilliant collection of intellectuals that had spent a full day teaching us about whatever we’d asked of them. The Samarian tutor had been too impressed to reprimand her, asking her privately later how she’d managed to tap into the entirety of the databank. I’d secretly hoped that they’d change schooling to incorporate her sim, but that would have rewarded her disobedience and