A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers, #2)

by Becky Chambers

As the line moved forward, Sidra picked up the first sign of an acquired multicultural tradition: music. A species without a sense of hearing had no need for a soundtrack, but clearly they’d gotten the memo that other people couldn’t imagine a party without it. Sidra enjoyed the thump of the drums, the jangle and swing laced through. She liked the patterns within the sounds, the way they made organics move.

She and her friends were being designated as the equivalent of neutral Aeluons for the evening, and with the exception of children, neutrals were welcome partners in romantic relationships.

‘I like history because it’s a way of understanding people. Understanding why we’re all like we are right now. Especially in a place like this.’

If I don’t have boundaries, I don’t know where to stop processing.’

‘You understand why that is. I don’t require participation in order to be enjoying myself. Company and interesting input. That’s all I need.’

The planet was beautiful. The planet was horrible. The planet was full of people, and they were beautiful and horrible, too. They’d made a mess of everything, and she was leaving now, and she was never coming back.