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The Galaxy, and the Ground Within - Becky Chambers

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The Galaxy, and the Ground Within

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He was what made problems bearable, what softened her angles and quieted her thoughts. They saw each other rarely – usually only a few days snatched here and there within the bulk of a standard year – but when she was with him, everything made sense. There was no work, no danger, no complications. There was only him, and her, and a bed beneath them. With him, there was a depth of conversation she couldn’t find with anyone else, an effortless surety that everything said between them was true and that nothing – no matter how messy or unflattering – would be judged. Not that all they did together was talk. Thinking of the way he moved when she touched him made the deepest part of her kick. She never stopped being intoxicated by the choreography they’d invented together, a dance made for two bodies that hadn’t evolved for each other. Everything fell into place when she locked herself away with him.

Then build us a world, we said. Terraform a planet for us, as you have done for yourselves. We have a new law, you said. The Biodiversity Preservation Agreement. It is now illegal to terraform planets that have so much as a microbe on them, as we don’t want to disrupt future evolutionary pathways. Surely, we said, our extant species is more important than a hypothetical biosphere that may or may not arise a billion years from now. It is the law, you said.

You will grant them full rights. You will give them a star to park their ships around. You will allow them to build colonies. When we expressed our outrage about this, we were told that the circumstances were so very different with them. Humans breathe the same air you do. Their ways were easier for you to understand. They don’t die in the middle of political talks.

How convenient for you, to at last work with a species whose bodies are compatible with your bureaucracy. Our time in this galaxy is, as you have constantly reminded us, limited. We will no longer waste it on waiting for you to do what is right.

to have your own planet means that despite knowing the universe is edgeless, that everything is relative to everything else, you feel there’s one place that’s the true centre of it. I don’t mean the true centre in an astronomical way, or a topographical way. I mean the true centre. It’s the anchor, the … the weight that holds the weaving together. It’s not the true centre for everyone, but it is for you.

‘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.’

Anyway, they were talking about me in that way, and most of them thought I’d tell them I was a boy. Had me confused for standards. No, I absolutely won’t do that with Tupo. Xe’s the only one who knows what xe is.’ ‘Noted, and admirable,’ Roveg said. ‘And I have always thought the party sounds like a lovely custom.’ ‘Quelin don’t have anything similar, right?’ ‘No, not at all. If your parents got it wrong, you let them know, you update your records, and everybody gets on with their lives. It’s a casual matter. Nobody hires a band. Which is our loss, really.’

‘Because I didn’t want to. And when it comes to a person’s body, that is all the reason there ever needs to be. Doesn’t matter if it’s a decision about a new pair of legs or how you like to trim your claws or—’ she gave Pei a piercing look ‘—what to do about an egg. I didn’t want to. You don’t want to. That’s it.’

‘Xe boarded my ship without a suit,’ Speaker said. Dr Miriyam apparently knew exactly what that meant, because she turned her head toward the Akarak with a dumbfounded expression. ‘Without a suit? Why?’ ‘I think, um … xe was trying to bring me some cake.’ The doctor blinked twice, then shook her head. ‘Kids, kids, kids,’
Book has drama abd poliical cobflict but expressed through the every day, pedesgrian pov

The dome was her world, that was the key thing. She had started with a blank slate and had built something upon it. She could put a sign here, slap some paint there, change whatever didn’t suit her fancy. That was a powerful thing, to Ouloo, more powerful than the biggest ship with the biggest guns. A ship like that was good for only one kind of job. The Five-Hop, on the other hand, could be whatever she wanted it to be. That was more compelling to her.

Truth be told, she didn’t enjoy the actual work of gardening very much. It was fine, as tasks went. She’d much rather do this than muck out the water filters or scrub a gummy engine. But the thing she enjoyed about gardening was having a garden. She liked imagining it, and she liked sitting in it when it was done. The middle bit of digging and pruning and getting sap on her paws and dirt in her fur and a crick in her back – that, she would happily do without. But you didn’t get a garden if you didn’t do the middle bit, unless you hired somebody else to do it, and then it wasn’t really yours.

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