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

to avoid. But stars, it felt good to just say what she wanted to say, and she had no intention of putting the lid back on this box, not now. ‘Just because there’s no one living on a planet does not mean it’s yours for the taking. Do you not see how dangerous that mindset is? Do you not think that treating the galaxy as if it is something to be endlessly used will always, always end in tragedy? You think you’ve broken the cycle. You haven’t. You’re in a less violent period of the exact same cycle, and you don’t see it. And the line of what you find to be justifiable cause is going to keep slipping and slipping until you end up right back where you started. You haven’t fixed anything. You put a stamp and a permit and a shiny coat of paint on an idea that has been fundamentally damaged from day one. You engaged in bloody theft and you called it progress, and no matter how much better you think you’ve made things, no matter how good your intentions are, that will always be the root of the GC. You cannot divorce any of what you do from that. Ever.’

‘So, what?’ Captain Tem said. ‘We’re all supposed to pack up and go back to our homeworlds? Now isn’t that a fucked idea. No more mixing, no more learning from each other. Each species to themselves.’

‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Then what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying stop expanding, stop going places where you’re not invited, and stop treating the galaxy like a free-for-all. You’ve gone far enough. You’re no longer in a bottleneck. There’s no reason for you to keep doing this. It can only end badly.’

The Aeluon flicked her eyelids sideways. ‘You’re talking about things you do not understand.’

‘If I am, then so are you. And the fact that you don’t see that about yourself is why I’ve decided I don’t like you, Captain Tem.’ Speaker took a breath, squared her shoulders, and unclenched her fists. She looked at Roveg, who she hoped was still a friend. ‘I’m sorry we spoiled your afternoon,’ she said to him. She pushed controls and turned her suit around, intending to leave.

Instead, she found herself facing Ouloo and Tupo, each holding a tray of cakes.

ROVEG

Roveg had never been happier to see a pair of Laru offering dessert.

He was too drunk for this. Whatever it was Ouloo had given Pei, it had melted his brain, and he had neither head nor heart for a conversation of this sort. He did not want the galaxy to be a mess, but he didn’t want to talk about it, either. He had problems enough without arguing over ones that he could not solve. The only solution he wanted was one for his own mess, and if he couldn’t have that, he wanted to forget about it for a while. And since that was apparently out of the question as well, then if nothing else, he wanted some of that cake.

He didn’t know how long Ouloo and Tupo had been on the periphery of the conversation, but he leapt at the opportunity to end it. ‘And what about you, Ouloo?’ he said loudly, jokingly. ‘What’s your take on the socio-political woes of the Galactic Commons?’

Ouloo stood on the pathway, holding a tray of her elaborate puddings as though she didn’t know what else to do. ‘I want everybody to get along, and I want to make them dessert,’ she said quietly.

Roveg began to laugh. ‘An admirable—’

Ouloo turned her head toward him. ‘No,’ she said, a thread of iron creeping into her voice. ‘I’m not being funny.’ She set the tray down on the grass and stood on all fours, not looking at anyone, not looking sure of herself. ‘I don’t know much about politics, or … or borders, or whatever it is you’re fighting about. And I should know about those things, probably, because I’m sure it’s irresponsible of me to not know how everything works, but … but everything is just so much. I don’t know your histories, not properly. I don’t understand all the – the tiny pieces that keep things moving. But I don’t need to know those things to be able to tell that something isn’t working. That something is wrong.’ She looked up to face Speaker. ‘What happened to your people – what is still happening to them – is wrong. Deeply wrong, and I’m sorry I never thought about it before.’ She looked at Pei. ‘What is happening to your people at the border is wrong. There’s something very wrong there, and nobody should have to live like that. And Roveg – what’s happened to you is wrong. So how do we fix it? How do we fix all of that?’ She turned her eyes to the ground again. ‘I have no idea. None. If a politician came here and said, “Here is my plan for fixing these things, and here is why my plan is best,” I’d probably just believe xyr on the spot. I’d say, yes, that all makes sense, I’m very glad you’re fixing it, what a relief. But then another politician could come in the next day, and xe might say, “Mmm, no, that plan’s bad, here are a lot of complicated reasons as to why,” and then I’d say, hmm, yes, that makes sense, too. And do you know what? I truly don’t care which of them is right so long as it fixes everything. I don’t have an … an ideology. I don’t know the right terms to discuss these things. I don’t know the science behind any of it. I’m sure I sound silly right now. But I just want everyone to get along, and to be well taken care of. That’s it. I want everybody to be happy, and I do not care how we get there.’ She exhaled, her broad nostrils flaring. ‘That’s how I feel about