To Be Taught, If Fortunate

by Becky Chambers

You never answer that question, and you never will. You strap into your rocket ship anyway. Somehow, you leave.

It’s not their fault, the good scientist in me feebly argued. They meant no harm. This is a terrible death. They don’t deserve this. I don’t care, the raw spite in me replied. And I didn’t. For all my impartiality, for all my trying to set aside anthropocentric biases and see the beauty in all forms, I truly didn’t care. I watched them burn, and felt a twisted gratitude.

We have satisfied nothing but curiosity, gained nothing but knowledge.