A Psalm for the Wild-Built (Monk & Robot, #1)

by Becky Chambers

Sometimes, a person reaches a point in their life when it becomes absolutely essential to get the fuck out of the city.

But there was a gravity to leaving a place for good, a deep sense of seismic change.

The thing the people wanted took time to prepare. If they wanted it, they could wait.

“You understand how resource-heavy consciousness is, yes?

The robot looked a touch offended. “I would never call you just an animal, Sibling Dex.” It turned its gaze to the road, head held high. “We don’t have to fall into the same category to be of equal value.”

Dex had never thought about it like that. “You’re right,” they said. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. This is an exchange, remember? These things will happen.”

tone. “It could’ve been the greywater tank.” Dex ignored the robot in favor of their rising hackles. They found scissors (no), soap (no), worn socks they thought they’d recycled (no), plant food (no no no), and then, blessedly—yes!—the tape.

if you don’t want to infringe upon my agency, let me have agency.

It did not take much brain to make your feet follow a path, and that meant your thoughts had ample room to drift and slow. Walking through uncut wilderness was another matter entirely, and Dex felt something primal awaken in them, a laser-focused state of mind they hadn’t known they possessed. There was no room for wandering fancies.

Here, listening to the rain fall, watching the light vanish, Dex began to understand why the concept of inside had been invented in the first place.

So, how fucking spoiled am I, then? How fucking broken? What is wrong with me that I can have everything I could ever want and have ever asked for and still wake up in the morning feeling like every day is a slog?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why isn’t it enough?” Dex looked at the robot. “What am I supposed to do, if not this? What am I, if not this?”

You’re an animal, Sibling Dex. You are not separate or other. You’re an animal. And animals have no purpose. Nothing has a purpose. The world simply is.

You keep asking why your work is not enough, and I don’t know how to answer that, because it is enough to exist in the world and marvel at it. You don’t need to justify that, or earn it. You are allowed to just live. That is all most animals do.”