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

by Becky Chambers

His grip was limp, his skin clammy. She was glad to let go.

It was the smallest, simplest, humblest living space Rosemary had ever seen (dingy spaceport hotels notwithstanding). And yet, all things considered, it was perfect. She couldn’t think of a better place to start over.

The Lovey that Jenks knew was uniquely molded by the Wayfarer. Her personality had been shaped by every experience she and the crew had together, every place they’d been, every conversation they’d shared. And honestly, Jenks thought, couldn’t the same be said for organic people? Weren’t they all born running the Basic Human Starter Platform, which was shaped and changed as they went along? In Jenks’s eyes, the only real difference in cognitive development between Humans and AIs was that of speed. He’d had to learn to walk and talk and eat and all the other essentials before he’d begun to have a sense of identity. Lovey didn’t have to worry about those things.

You’re designed to find bodies attractive, Jenks. Enjoy them.” She paused. “If it were legal for me to have a body, what kind would you want me to have?”

Acting all sanctimonious while spouting bad info was a terrible way to win a debate, but a great way to piss people off.

Humans can’t handle war. Everything I know about our history shows that it brings out the worst in us. We’re just not . . . mature enough for it, or something. Once we start, we can’t stop.

How still the universe must look to their eyes, Ohan thought. How silent.

From time to time, alien doctors would come forward, offering to help cure the Wane, but they were always refused. There could be no chance of a treatment damaging the genetic stability of the Whisperer. The infection was sacred. It could not be tampered with. The Wane was a fair price to pay for enlightenment.

In a way, Dr. Chef could see into the hearts of others as well as Ohan themself could see the universe. Ohan often wondered if Dr. Chef knew what a gift that was.

In many ways, the idea of a shared stock of genes drifting through the galaxy is far easier to accept than the daunting notion that none of us may ever have the intellectual capacity to understand how life truly works.

The idea that a loss of potential was somehow worse than a loss of achievement and knowledge was something she had never been able to wrap her brain around.

Rosemary’s hand went to her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said. Such a quintessentially Human thing, to express sorrow through apology.

He sank down so that he could look Rosemary square in the eye. “We cannot blame ourselves for the wars our parents start. Sometimes the very best thing we can do is walk away.”

“We cannot blame ourselves for the wars our parents start. Sometimes the very best thing we can do is walk away.”

People can do terrible things when they feel safe and powerful. Your father had probably gotten his way for so long that he thought he was untouchable, and that is a dangerous way for a person to feel.

you have a fractured bone, and I’ve broken every bone in my body, does that make your fracture go away? Does it hurt you any less, knowing that I am in more pain?” “No, but that’s not—” “Yes, it is. Feelings are relative. And at the root, they’re all the same, even if they grow from different experiences and exist on different scales.” He examined her face. She looked skeptical. “Sissix would understand this. You Humans really do cripple yourselves with your belief that you all think in unique ways.”

The truth is, Rosemary, that you are capable of anything. Good or bad. You always have been, and you always will be. Given the right push, you, too, could do horrible things. That darkness exists within all of us.

Caffeine, adrenaline and the need for sleep all battled for supremacy, chasing each other around like a pack of dogs. He felt like hell.

I’ll never forget what he said to me. He said, ‘This means we matter. We’re worth something.’ And I said, ‘Of course you’re worth something. Everyone is worth something.’

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.”