Geddy’s Gambit

C.P. James draws from his experience in Africa as an archaeologist/anthropologist, as well as his service in uniform to craft a universe of compelling and diverse peoples. 

(Excerpt)

Come Here Often?

A Ceonian, a Ghruk, and two Zihnians walked into the bar. Geddy smirked, jutted his chin in their direction and quipped, “What is this, some kind of joke?” The bartender only cocked his head and gave a quizzical look. The same guy who’d poured him not one, but two Ceonian ales that were half foam didn’t get it. Go figure. Once was a mistake, twice was a hostile drinking environment. 

The place was called Nebula Nell’s. Being three blocks east of the spaceport, it wasn’t quite as cheesy as the ultra-touristy spots across from the pedestrian mall, but it wasn’t for a lack of effort. A narrow hallway led from the front door into the circular bar area, which had been done up to look like the lounge of a luxury transport. Screens in the shape of transport ship windows around the perimeter played video of slowly drifting star fields as did a similar projection over the bar. A cylindrical holo-menu rotated in front of him, advertising overpriced specialty drinks like the Turbo Tonic and the Hyperdrive Highball.