A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers, #2)

by Becky Chambers

bitter in a real mean way.

This feels like Jane

Sidra swung the kit’s eyes away, letting them have their moment. It seemed like a nice sort of thing to have.

Science dictated otherwise, but the dance remained, partly out of cultural heritage, partly out of the mindset of well, it can’t hurt.

‘Not at all.’ Tak placed the pipe back in her mouth, unruffled by the unexpected audience. It was a good thing, Sidra thought, to know your craft so well that an extra pair of eyes made little difference.

He looked at her curiously. ‘Why, you thinking of getting some ink?’ The kit shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ Blue laughed and ruffled the kit’s hair. ‘I mean, hey, if you’re g-going to have an existential crisis, go all out, yeah?’

Sidra accessed her reference files in kind. Tak was surprised, and pleased. ‘Well, hey!’ he said, setting down both scrib and pipe. ‘It’s my friend from the party!’ Sidra felt the kit smile. He remembered her. ‘Hello. I hope I’m not intruding.’ Tak gestured around. ‘I’m alone, and it’s a shop. You’re supposed to intrude.’ The patches on his cheeks went green with amusement. ‘What brings you here?’

‘But it wasn’t for me, in the end. I love learning. I love history. But there’s history in everything. Every building, everybody you talk to. It’s not limited to libraries and museums. I think people who spend their lives in school forget that sometimes.’

idling. ‘I’ll be right out here,’ Pepper said, as Tak made her way back. She was looking at Sidra, but the words were meant for everyone present. Sidra felt the kit’s shoulders relax, just a bit. Pepper was there. Pepper was

rankle,

A whole building set aside for stuff you couldn’t use, couldn’t fix, and wouldn’t get rid of. Now that was the mark of people who had it good.