"All sorts of stuff. Tending bar, exotic dancing, spent a little while as a courier. The languages came from being a deckhand on a cargo freighter." Jim picks up something that looks kind of like a blue carrot and turns it over, inspecting it for ripeness.

"Poetry's great," he answers with a grin, and nods in agreement with her assertion. "The smell of the ink, the feel of the paper... you don't get any of that with datapads. It's fine for reports and stuff, but books should be real books."