The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Wayfarers, #1)

by Becky Chambers

Ashby welcomed the noise. It was reassuring to know that he was never alone out there, especially given his line of work. Building wormholes was not a glamorous profession.

The festival was meant as a gesture of friendship and unity among a fractured species, an acknowledgment that despite their difficult pasts, they could work together toward a bright galactic future. Not that anything had really come of it. The Diaspora was still ineffectual in the GC Parliament. Harmagians had money. Aeluons had firepower. Aandrisks had diplomacy. Humans had arguments. No festival, no matter how lavish, was going to change that. But it had been a fine party, at least.

“But you didn’t. And you learned from it. You’re trying to evolve. I think the rest of the galaxy underestimates what that says about you.”

I’m glad that you stopped her before she could hurt you more. I’m glad that she’s dead, because that means you’re still here. What does that say about me? What does it say about me, being relieved that you can do the thing I condemn my own species for?” Pei looked at him a long time. She pressed close to him. “It means,” she said, her forehead against his, her lithe limbs wrapped around his body, “that you understand more about violence than you think.” She pressed her fingers against his cheek, a touch of worry crossing her face. “And that’s good, considering where you’re headed.”

“One night, one of the other doctors ran into my shelter. She told me to come quickly. I followed her to the surgery, and there, ripped to pieces by a cutter—by our tech—was my youngest mothered-child. My daughter. I hadn’t even known she was fighting nearby.”

“Aha. But he did. So then you begin wondering how you could’ve been so wrong about him. You start going back through your memories, looking for signs. You begin questioning everything you know, even the good things. You wonder how much of it was a lie. And worst of all, since he had a heavy hand in making you who you are, you begin wondering what you yourself are capable of.”

all any of us can do—is work to be something positive instead. That is a choice that every sapient must make every day of their life. The universe is what we make of it.

The date on that directory. That’s the day I installed you. Yes. Why? Because I’ve loved you since then.

He knew that sound. He knew that glow. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Lovey?” There was a pause. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see the camera lenses shift toward him. She spoke. “Hello. My name is Lovelace. It’s nice to meet you.”