He strapped into the seat as it adjusted its shape to better accommodate him. In the end it felt almost womblike in its comfort. Next to him: a seat taking a completely different shape to accommodate an alien. "Do you know how long it takes to get up to the liner?"
"Fifty skith. Maybe… one-twentieth of your day?"
"Oh, all right. That's not bad."
"You have an interesting odor."
"Sorry. Big spaceport, I had to run for the gate." He would have shrugged, but his shoulders wouldn't move. "Couldn't miss the flight."
"For only fifty skith, I can tolerate it."
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