The Galaxy, and the Ground Within by Becky Chambers (best novels in english .txt) 📕

She took a more confident bite. ‘I wouldn’t call myself that,’ she said. ‘I don’t eat much alien food.’ She swallowed. ‘Hardly ever, honestly. I hadn’t really thought about it, until you sent me this.’

‘It would make sense, if you can’t go out to eat,’ he said. He began to tuck in with gusto, grasping delicious things with each of his thoracic feet. ‘If you’re getting groceries for a long haul, you want to make sure it’s something you know you like.’ He poured himself a cup of mek with the one leg that wasn’t holding a piece of food. ‘Who is the better cook, you or Tracker?’

‘Me,’ Speaker said with conviction. ‘She always overcooks anything leafy. And she likes things burned.’

He laughed. ‘I sense a long-standing argument.’

‘Very long,’ she said.

He continued down that road with delicate steps. ‘Are you feeling better in that regard than you were yesterday?’

Speaker finished the marshpear she had in hand, then began eating another one. ‘No,’ she said frankly. ‘I’m not.’

‘I rather suspected as much. That’s why I thought you might appreciate a distraction.’

She did nothing but eat for a moment. ‘That’s kind of you,’ she said. She studied him, crunching the fruit she held with both hands. ‘Would I be right in guessing you also needed distracting?’

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Yes, you would.’

The frankness continued. ‘You’re not looking forward to going home, are you?’

Roveg looked up at her. ‘Ouloo mentioned where I was headed, I take it?’

Speaker chuckled. ‘She did.’

‘Well, it’s not home. Home is on Chalice, for me. But I am headed to Quelin space, yes.’ He took a strip of sugared snapfruit. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘How long?’

‘Fifteen standards.’

She considered this. That was nearly a lifetime for her, he realised. It rather felt like one to him, too. ‘What’s taking you back there now?’ she asked.

Roveg almost told her. Part of him wanted to purge the anxiety he’d shoved inside for days on end, but he was so afraid of the possibility of things going wrong that he dared not speak his fear aloud. That would make it too real. So instead, he relayed only the logistics, the piece that was nothing more than a means. ‘I’m barred from living in Quelin space, but it’s been long enough since I was thrown out that I’m now eligible for a … hmm, I don’t know what to call it in Klip. A visitor’s permit, essentially. Extremely temporary, and my permissable activities will be equally limited. I’ll have a law-enforcement escort with me wherever I go, to make sure I don’t do or say anything disruptive. I’m sure whoever xe is will be delightful company.’

The way Speaker looked at him suggested she was well aware that this was a half-answer. But to her credit and his relief, she did not go digging for missing details. ‘So that’s your appointment,’ she said. ‘To get your permit.’

‘Yes. There’s a tedious interview process and other assorted nonsense. It’s very strict.’ He paused. ‘Tardiness would not factor favourably, for me.’

‘Ah,’ she said with understanding. She clicked her beak together, looking at the table. ‘Hence the distraction.’

‘Indeed.’

Speaker turned the suit so she could get a better look at the projection walls. ‘Is this one of yours?’ she asked, watching the digitally rendered water tumble down.

Roveg curled his legs proudly. ‘It is indeed,’ he said. ‘And I’m not too modest to say that it’s a favourite. Though, of course, this is just the visual playback, not the whole experience.’

‘I’ve always thought sims sounded a bit overwhelming. I don’t know how I feel about plugging something into my brain.’

‘Nothing’s plugged in, it’s all wireless,’ Roveg said. ‘The patch you wear doesn’t hurt, and it’s not invasive. But you’re right, the actual sensory experience can take some getting used to. Work like mine is a nice entry point. You can get accustomed to the concept of feeling and seeing something that isn’t there without being asked to do anything.’

Speaker took that in. She nodded at the wall. ‘This isn’t a real place, right? You didn’t model this after somewhere that exists?’

‘No, this one’s made up. Sometimes I do real-world environments, but it depends on the mood I’m in.’

‘Can you show me one?’

‘Certainly,’ he said. He was always pleased when someone took an interest in his work. ‘Friend, can you display Reskit, unpopulated version?’

Friend obliged. The fountain vanished, and the Aandrisk capital was summoned in its place. Roveg and Speaker now sat in Reskit’s famous Old Marketplace, surrounded by ancient doorless buildings adorned with flags and banners of every colour waving merrily in the bone-dry breeze.

‘Wow,’ Speaker said. ‘Wow, it looks just like it.’

‘You’ve been?’

‘Yeah, Reskit’s a fairly regular stop for us. The market there is … well, friendly.’ She did not elaborate on what friendly meant, but Roveg could guess. ‘It looks funny, without the people.’

‘You can add people in if you wish, but being able to admire the scenery without all the hustle and bustle is nice, too.’

‘I suppose it is,’ she said. She observed quietly, deep in thought. ‘Do you have any of Vemereng?’

The question hit Roveg beneath the shell, but he did not let this show. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve never made a sim based anywhere on my planet. Not since, I mean.’

Speaker’s pensiveness became heavier. ‘Can you tell me what that’s like?’

‘You mean Vemereng? Well, it rather depends on which continent we’re talking about, just like anywhere. I was born in the eastern islands, which are cool but temperate—’

The Akarak cut him off. ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘I want to know what it’s like to have a planet. You’ve visited many, and so have I. Tell me what you feel when you say that one is yours.’

Roveg stared out at the projection, the spiracles along his back rising and falling with each breath. ‘My planet,’ he said, but not to her. He spoke the words to himself, experimentally, studying them from an angle he had never thought to consider. He looked