A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Monk & Robot, #2)

by Becky Chambers

“Well, there’s no spontaneity in your journey, then, is there? If you’re focused on moving from sign to sign, there’s no opportunity for happy accidents.

They were running up against a wall, and it didn’t matter whether they understood where the wall had come from, or what it was made of. The only way to get through it was to stop trying, for a while.

I wouldn’t be doing a very good job of pursuing my quest if I only welcomed the parts that were fun.”

Dex reached over and took a worm from the box before they could fall into an existential crisis about it. They baited their hook with a whispered apology.

Coming home meant that you had, at one point, left it and, in doing so, irreversibly changed. How odd, then, to be able to return to a place that would always be anchored in your notion of the past.

“All parasites have value, Sibling Dex. Not to their hosts, perhaps, but you could say the same about a predator and a prey animal. They all give back—not to the individual but to the ecosystem at large.

“You are the weirdest, most inexplicable thing that’s ever happened to me. You make me crazy, most days. You say so much shit I don’t understand.” Their voice cracked, and grew almost inaudibly quiet. “But whatever it is we’re doing, it’s the first thing in a long time I’ve been sure about.” They swallowed. “Most days, you’re the only thing that makes sense.”

“What if that is enough, for now? What if we’re both trying to answer something much too big before we’ve answered the small thing we should have started with? What if it’s enough to just be…” Us, Dex knew Mosscap meant, though the robot didn’t finish. “Then we tackle the rest when we’re ready,” they said. “However long that takes.”