A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers, #2)

by Becky Chambers

Sidra was grateful, but felt guilty.

The handles were sweaty from whatever girl had been there before. One of the Marys.

Pepper had come from some ‘bad shit’, too, but no one looked at her as if she were a stray pet. Pepper was useful here. Sidra wasn’t yet. It would take time, she knew, but the continued lack of a clear-cut purpose was unpleasant.

There was organisation at work, but clutter, too. The mark of a logical mind that sometimes strayed.

But with no systems to monitor but her own, and no Linkings to keep her occupied, waiting was a deeply irritating way to spend time.

She wanted to fix this, to fit in, to stop clinging to corners and reaching for Linkings. She needed to change, and didn’t know how.

would you get rid of your own curiosity if it made you more ‘stable’?

She was drinking water she’d got herself, and that made it taste extra good.

‘I’m not sure why you want to be friends with me. Right now, I feel like I’m just some sort of curiosity to you.’

Part of her was glad to hear someone else breathing again. Part of her wanted him gone.

Patience. It was a laudable trait, and Sidra had been doing her best to emulate it over the nine days they’d been in transit.

‘Life is terrifying. None of us have a rule book. None of us know what we’re doing here. So, the easiest way to stare reality in the face and not utterly lose your shit is to believe that you have control over it.

Everybody’s history is one long slog of all the horrible shit we’ve done to each other.’

‘That’s why we have to keep talking to each other.’