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358 pages, Paperback
First published July 24, 2018
�There is no such thing as a meaningless job in the Fleet. Everything has a purpose, a recognisable benefit. If you have food on your plate, you thank a farmer. If you have clothing, you thank a textile manufacturer. If you have murals to brighten your day, you thank an artist. Even the most menial of tasks benefits someone, benefits all.�
�Our species doesn’t operate by reality. It operates by stories. Cities are a story. Money is a story. Space was a story, once. A king tells us a story about who we are and why we’re great, and that story is enough to make us go kill people who tell a different story. Or maybe the people kill the king because they don’t like his story and have begun to tell themselves a different one. When our planet started dying, our species was so caught up in stories. We had thousands of stories about ourselves � that’s still true, don’t forget that for a minute � but not enough of us were looking at the reality of things. Once reality caught up with us and we started changing our stories to acknowledge it, it was too late.�
�Show me a species who has never wronged another. Show me a species who has always been perfect or fair…either we are all worthy of the Commons or none of us are.�
“From the ground, we stand. From our ships, we live. By the stars, we hope.�
“The guilt lingered, even so. Ghosts were imaginary, but hauntings were real.�
We are the Exodus Fleet. We are those that wandered, that wander still. We are the homesteaders that shelter our families. We are the miners and foragers in the open. We are the ships that ferry between. We are the explorers who carry our names. We are the parents who lead the way. We are the children who continue on.
From the ground, we stand. From our ship, we live. By the stars, we hope.
(Motto of the Exodus Fleet)