Earthseed

under his wet shirt; his hands were muddy claws. She held her breath for a moment, remembering the routes they had considered and rejected; she wished that they had taken the other way around the lake. She no longer cared about winning.
    It’s what you do when things are hard that counts. Ship had told them that often enough. Humankind is made for difficult tasks; without them, you will grow weak. Ship would not have wanted them to take the easy way. Ship’s words were little comfort to her now.
    Unable to watch Manuel climb, she glanced at the large dead tree, part of which lay at their side. Manuel was right; Ho would have thought of pushing it there. He had guessed their plans; he knew Manuel too well and might have known the route he would choose. Maybe he hadn’t guessed; maybe he had known what the Blue team was planning. She was suddenly sure of it. Ho would have known how to get someone to talk, would know how to force the information from someone.
    She looked at Gervais. His upturned face was tense as he watched Manuel. He had talked. Ho would have known he was vulnerable; he would have known about Manuel’s revenge on Gervais. And Gervais had been ready with a plan, as if knowing that Ho would get his team to dispose of the tree. She tried to work up some anger at the boy, but failed, wondering what she would have done if Ho had tried to pry the information from her.
    Manuel slipped. Zoheret darted to one side as a shower of mud and pebbles fell toward her. Manuel’s hands grabbed at a rock and his legs dangled until he found footing. He was almost to the top of the precipice now. Ho, she realized, must have lost some time in moving the tree, so her own team might still have a chance.
    Manuel reached the top and hoisted himself over it. Soon he was standing, waving his arms. The others cheered.

    Climbing up the cliff, even with the makeshift rope, was not easy. Zoheret, feet flat against the rock face, pulled herself along, not looking down. She hoped that the knots would hold and quickly decided not to think of that.
    When they were all at the top, they pulled the ponchos and Manuel’s knapsack up after themselves. Then they untied the frayed ponchos and put them away. Jennifer lay on her back until they were ready to leave; she was very pale.
    They hurried through the trees and were soon out on the plain. The grassy land rippled. The air was clear; far overhead, on the other side of the Hollow, thin silvery streams wound among clumps of green.
    They jogged across the plain; the grass slapped their thighs. They slowed, but kept to a stride. Jennifer was limping badly now, but was somehow keeping up. She had picked up a long stick in the woods and was using it as a cane.
    “When do we stop for lunch?” Robert shouted.
    “We don’t,” Manuel shouted back. He stood aside and let the others pass him. “If you want to eat, eat while you’re walking.” Annie moaned and a few others grumbled, but they kept on. Victory was again possible; no one would argue.
    Manuel came to Zoheret’s side and walked with her. His face was dirty; dark curls clung to his forehead. “Maybe we’ll win after all,” Zoheret said, not knowing what else to say.
    “If we do, we’ll celebrate,” he said. “You’ll come to the party with me, won’t you?”
    “I’ll see if we win first.”
    Jennifer, just behind Manuel, gazed at Zoheret with raised eyebrows. The boy turned and saw her. “You hurt yourself.”
    Jennifer nodded.
    “You’re doing all right, Jen. I didn’t think you would. I guess I’m glad you’re on our team after all.”
    Jennifer beamed; her cheeks grew pink.
    Zoheret thought of what Gervais had told her. It did not matter. Manuel was older now; he had probably changed. If they won, it would be mostly because of him. She realized that she wanted the others to see her with Manuel, to know how he felt about her.
    In the distance, a small herd of horses grazed. They passed a few sheep, which bleated as they went by. Zoheret was sure that wolves were not far away, but doubted they would attack such a large group of people.
    “Even if we lose,” Manuel murmured, drawing closer to her, “you can come to the winners’ party with me, can’t you?”
    “Bonnie might want you to go with her.” She said it lightly.
    Manuel scowled. “I didn’t make her any promises.”
    “That isn’t what I’ve heard.”
    “I’m not interested in her anymore. And what do you care about it anyway?” He