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

by Becky Chambers

Without use of constructs, you will unravel few mysteries. Without knowledge of mysteries, your constructs will fail. Find the strength to pursue both, for these are our prayers. And to that end, welcome comfort, for without it, you cannot stay strong.

The thing about fucking off to the woods is that unless you are a very particular, very rare sort of person, it does not take long to understand why people left said woods in the first place.

But then again, perhaps it was a good thing for someone to appreciate the craftsmanship of a backroads highway or a quick-printed road sign. The creation of such objects took just as much work and thought as anything else, yet garnered little praise from those who saw them every day.

“If you have everything you need around you,” Dex said, “there’s no reason to leave. It takes a lot of time and effort to go someplace else.”

an enormous stump, wide as a modest house, its spiring might cut clean away in the early days of the Factory Age, a time in which not much thought was given to spending twenty minutes on killing something that had taken a thousand years to grow.

Those things remind us to stop getting lost in everyday bullshit. We have to take a sec to tap into the bigger picture.

Mosscap seemed utterly at ease with this, unconcerned about making the villagers wait. The dog, in that moment, came first.

“I’d like to try it alone, first. I don’t need you to follow me everywhere.” “Sure, but do you want me to?”

They leaned back in their chair with their hands folded over their belly, savoring the indescribable satisfaction of having eaten wild things while trading breath with the trees.

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.

Welcome comfort, they reminded themself, rubbing the little pectin-printed bear with their thumb. Without it, you cannot stay strong.

“I believe so,” Mosscap said. “You’re saying that instead of a system of currency that tracks individual trade, you have one that facilitates exchange through the community. Because … all exchange benefits the community as a whole?”

So it’s money but more complicated and without capitalism I can rock with that

“Nobody should be barred from necessities or comforts just because they don’t have the right number next to their name.”

AMEN

“Oh, nothing. I’ve just spent a very long time wanting to talk with you and couldn’t wait any longer.”

Mosscap I adore you

“I read a book while you were sleeping,” Mosscap said, holding up its pocket computer. “And I would really like to discuss it with you.”

ME

and while the spice plum blossoms were indeed beautiful, they did not need to stop at every single fucking tree.

“That’s that, then.” “That’s what?” Dex said. “I suppose I’m getting old.”

If mosscap dies I’m so out

Everything about the man said that this was someone skilled and trustworthy, but all the same, Dex wasn’t going to let a stranger poke around Mosscap unsupervised.

Obsessed with dex not wanting to look into mosscap but not wanting someone ELSE looking into mosscap even more

something that nature can no longer recycle, then you’ve removed it from that realm entirely. It no longer has a part to play. Just like me. I’m an observer, not a participant.”

“Good morning, Sibling Dex!” the robot said. “Congratulations on having sex last night.”

Oh my god mosscap

“And an ox-bike.

All your whining and the bike is animated

Mosscap looked back up, the light in its eyes lower than before. “I’ve never felt like a problem,” it said. “Not a very good feeling, is it?”

“If they have an issue with you, that’s on them. And it’s not even about you, personally. They just … don’t understand what you are. Or maybe they can’t fit you into their beliefs, and that scares them. The unknown makes us stupid sometimes.”

Me and mine believe the further you distance yourself from the realities of what it means to be an animal in this world, the more you risk severing your connection to it.

But as they tried to watch as Mosscap did, they became uncomfortable, almost like they were witnessing something that wasn’t their business. But it was their business. They were the one who’d pulled the fish out of its watery home. They were the one who’d stepped in and decided that it was time for something’s life to be over because they were hungry and their own life required it. Mosscap was right to look as unflinchingly as it did.

Despite their number and close proximity, none of the treetops were touching one another. It was as though someone had taken an eraser and run it cleanly through the canopy, transforming each tree into its own small island contained within a definitive border of blue sky. The effect reminded Dex of puzzle pieces laid out on the table, each in their own place yet still unconnected. It wasn’t that the trees were unhealthy or their foliage sparse. On the contrary, every tree was lush and full, bursting with green life. Yet somehow, in the absence of contact, they knew exactly where to stop growing outward so that they might give their neighbors space to thrive.

“Well, that’s the nice thing about trees.” Mosscap put its hands on its hips as it looked around. “They’re not going anywhere. You can take all the time you need to get to know them.”

It was always a strange thing, coming home. 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. How could this place still be there, if the you that once lived there no longer existed?

“Could we eat a robot?” laughed one who thought herself hilarious. Mosscap’s eyes shifted with mild concern. “… What?”

“If what you say is true, then … she won’t remember me. She won’t remember this moment.” “I’m afraid not,” Dex said. “But we’ll tell her about it, when she’s older.” A dejected note slipped into Mosscap’s voice. “How very sad,” it said. “This is already quite important to me.”

:(

“You’ll make sure she gets a copy?” Mosscap confirmed, unbothered by the grubby fingers slamming against its eyes. “So that when she starts making memories, she’ll know we’re already friends?”

It was the sort of place you went when you were a teenager in possession of a bottle of wine you shouldn’t have and a few friends who would all share your regret about varied decisions by morning.

You don’t have to have a reason to be tired. You don’t have to earn rest or comfort. You’re allowed to just be. I say that wherever I go.” They threw a hand toward their wagon, its wooden sides emblazoned with the summer bear. “It’s painted on the side of my home! But I don’t feel like it’s true, for me. I feel like it’s true for everyone else but not me. I feel like I have to do more than that. Like I have a responsibility to do more than that.”

“You see,” it said. “You understand. I wish you didn’t, because I know it means you’re as tangled up as I am, but … I’m grateful that you do.”

“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.”

There was nothing more that could be said in words. There was only shouting, cheering, cries of delight as the two of them jumped and played and marveled at the spectacle that would’ve existed whether anyone was there to witness it or not.

Thanks to my wife, Berglaug, for being so indescribably easy to love back.

cute