The Galaxy, and the Ground Within by Becky Chambers (read along books txt) 📗

your shuttle has military permit insignia stamped on the hull,’ he said. ‘I imagine that you’ve lost friends, been injured.’ He paused. ‘It’s likely you’ve killed people.’

She glanced at him. ‘Does that bother you?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Though that doesn’t mean I approve, either.’

‘Fair,’ she said. She ran her thumb over the rim of the cup. ‘The kid keeps asking me about it.’

‘Tupo?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s hardly surprising. Xe is a kid, after all. Xe doesn’t understand what xe’s asking about. Or, xe’s trying to understand, and that’s why xe won’t drop it.’

Captain Tem thought about this. ‘Do you raise your own kids? Like Ouloo does?’

‘My species, you mean? Not exactly like Ouloo does, but our children stay with their parents until adolescence, yes.’

‘I can’t imagine,’ Captain Tem said. ‘Do you have any?’

Roveg took a long pull from the bottle, letting the kick take up any space that words might inhabit. He did not reply.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Captain Tem watching him, her cheeks orange with sympathy. ‘Is that what we’re not talking about?’

Roveg looked at the bottle’s label once more. The flavour of the stuff bordered on a treaty violation, but against his will, it was growing on him. ‘I have another question for you about Humans, if I may.’

Captain Tem’s inner eyelids flicked sideways, and the orange in her cheeks subdued. She seemed to understand. ‘All right.’

Roveg looked at her with staged seriousness. ‘Waterball. Do you understand the rules?’

The Aeluon laughed, her face flooding green. ‘I actually do.’

‘Good, because I saw a game once, and all it appeared to be was a zero-G tank full of sapients tearing around in rocket boots, trying to drag a big glob of water around with sticks.’

‘I mean … that’s basically it, plus a lot of complicated bullshit tacked on.’

‘Not a fan, I take it?’

‘I’d say I have a … distant respect for it.’ She sighed, then flexed her hand toward Roveg, indicating she wanted the bottle back. He refilled her cup. ‘Okay. You have two teams of six, but only three play at a time.’

‘And they can’t touch the water with their hands, correct?’

‘Well … okay, you’re getting ahead of yourself. They can, but only under special circumstances.’

‘This is already a mess.’

‘I know. Stay with me. The object of the game is to get the waterball into the goal, which is called the bucket. It’s not actually a bucket – it’s this thing that measures the volume of the water to see how much was lost as they crossed the box. Now, the starting players are chosen as follows …’

PEI

Pei still didn’t know what Ouloo’s kick was called or what it was made of or how long they’d been drinking it, but it had to be good, given how much of it they’d knocked back. Roveg was drunk – merrily so – and Pei was well on her way there. She wasn’t sure how they’d started with waterball and ended up at colour opera, but whatever the trajectory, Pei was enjoying the ride. This Quelin was a lot of fun. She’d almost forgotten why she’d started drinking her feelings in the garden in the first place.

Almost.

Pei’s implant buzzed to the left, and she registered the clanking sound of the Akarak’s suit, in motion and headed their way. Speaker appeared moments later, coming around the corner and looking … surprised, maybe? Who knew?

‘Oh,’ Speaker said. ‘Sorry, I was looking for Roveg. I didn’t mean to disturb.’

‘Nothing to disturb,’ Pei said lightly.

‘Ah, Speaker, please join us!’ Roveg said. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve gotten a little … frivolous.’

Whatever the Akarak’s original intent had been, she seemed to discard it. ‘I think I’ll leave you to it,’ Speaker said, ‘since I can’t partake.’

‘Oh, come now,’ Roveg said, ‘we’re not that sloppy, are we? I may not be able to pour you a drink, but I assure you, I can still provide the most scintillating conversation.’

‘I’m sure.’ Speaker laughed. ‘But I really don’t want to interrupt. I’ll find you later.’

Pei’s cheeks stippled with yellow. She’d had enough of Speaker dancing around her, of couched replies and things clearly left unsaid. ‘Have I done something?’ Pei asked.

The Akarak tensed. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘Have I done something to rub you the wrong way?’ Pei asked. She wasn’t mad. She didn’t care what Speaker thought of her one way or the other, and she wasn’t looking to pick a fight. She was simply asking a question. ‘It’s fine if you don’t like me, I just can’t figure out why.’

Speaker cocked her head. ‘I don’t know you well enough to dislike you,’ she said.

‘Okay,’ Pei said. That was an answer she could respect, but it didn’t satisfy the question. ‘So what did I do?’

‘You didn’t do anything.’

‘So you just don’t like my species, then? Or what?’

‘Captain,’ Roveg said.

‘I’m not upset about it,’ Pei said. ‘I just want to know.’

Speaker placed her hands in her lap and folded them together. ‘You really want me to answer this?’ Speaker said.

‘Yes,’ Pei said. She really did.

Sounds did not resonate with Pei the way they did with other species, but all the same, there could be no mistake that every syllable hitting her implant was delivered with the quiet accuracy of someone choosing her words with care. ‘I don’t know you,’ Speaker said. ‘And I like Aeluons the same as any species.’ She paused, gathering herself. ‘What I don’t like is your job. And if that has bled into my interactions with you, then I apolo—’

‘What about my job?’ Pei asked. The yellow darkened.

‘The … spheres in which you operate. I …’ Speaker clicked her beak and inhaled. ‘I believe you and I have differing opinions on the Rosk war. That’s all.’

Roveg laughed at this. ‘You should’ve been a diplomat,’ he said. ‘Or a parliamentarian.’

Speaker did not laugh. ‘I’m good where I am,’ she said with glacial calm.

Pei’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t cared what Speaker thought of her before, but now she did. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re …