Earthseed

the late arrivals. She could have asked Anoki to go with her. But she no longer felt at ease with Anoki; she wouldn’t have known how to act. She clenched her teeth. Perhaps Anoki, who was proud, would have turned her down. She wished Ho had asked her; that would have gotten to Manuel. She saw herself entering the party while clasping Ho’s hand. She sucked in her breath. It would have been worth it, just to see Manuel’s reaction; it wouldn’t matter what anyone else thought. She was lost in that fantasy until she came to the dining hall.
    She shook back her hair and entered. The large room was brightly lit; the walls sang with music as feet pounded the floor. The tables had been pushed to one side and were piled high with various foods and beverages. A circle of young people danced while others stood near the tables, eating.
    Zoheret walked toward Kagami, who was wearing yellow. “You look a lot better.”
    “I am. Can’t dance, though—I still hurt a little. Ship told us we could come.” She waved at Brendan, who was hobbling past the dancers on his crutches. “Federico said he didn’t want to, so I promised I’d bring back some food for him. You can come with me if you want.”
    “Sure.”
    “Some other kids said they’d come. Federico’s still mad at the Brown team.”
    “Aren’t you?”
    Kagami frowned. “I guess I am. But I’m not going to let it ruin my fun. Ho’ll get his; the time will come.” She rolled the words around in her mouth, as if tasting them. “I saw Lillka earlier. She says you’re acting funny. Is something wrong?”
    “No.”
    “There’s Lars.” Kagami went toward the boy. Zoheret made her way to the tables and picked up an egg roll. Ho and Bonnie were in one corner, holding hands while they tapped their feet to the music. Manuel was with the circle of dancers, swinging one leg as he hopped on the other. Zoheret lowered her eyelids and peered at him through her lashes while forcing herself to swallow her food.
    Another piece of music came on, an Arab ballad punctuated by wails. The circle of dancers broke up. Manuel was standing with a red-haired girl named Deanna. He draped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. They walked toward the far end of the tables; he released her, took a plate, and loaded it with food, then offered an orange to Deanna, who blushed and seemed bewildered.
    “Hey, Zoheret.” Dmitri was next to her, munching on a piece of cake. “This party’s dead.”
    “It hasn’t got going yet.”
    “I’ve got something in the lab I’ve been working on. Want to see?”
    “Not particularly.”
    “Oh, come on.” He reached for a large bottle of fruit juice, tucking it under one muscular arm. “It’s something special. Aren’t you curious?”
    “Why would I want to go to the lab now?” She glanced at Manuel and Deanna. He was picking food from the plate and feeding it to the girl with his fingers. Zoheret pressed her lips together. “All right. I’ll go.”
    They left the party together. Zoheret hoped that Manuel had seen them but did not look back to find out.
    The laboratory was just down the corridor. As they entered, she saw an apparatus of copper tubing and funnels; beakers filled with a clear, colorless liquid lined the table in front of the blackboard and screen. Dmitri put down the fruit juice and picked up one of the beakers, pulled out the stopper, and poured the liquid into a glass.
    “I’ve been working on this all day.” He handed her the glass. “Go on, try it.”
    She stared at the waterlike substance. “What is it?”
    “Drink it and find out.”
    She sipped and swallowed. The tasteless liquid burned her tongue and throat, making her gag. “Ugh.” Her stomach felt warm.
    “It’s alcohol. I made it myself, from grain.”
    “I can’t believe Ship let you.”
    “You are long past the point where I can tell you what to do,” Ship said. “You’ll soon be looking out for yourselves. Dmitri wanted to build his still, and I suppose that it’s a potentially useful skill.”
    Dmitri added some fruit juice to the liquid. “This’ll make it go down easier.” Zoheret took another cautious sip while Dmitri mixed a glass for himself. “We can have our own party here.”
    She was beginning to feel a little happier. She emptied the glass and set it down, almost knocking it over. Dmitri refilled it, then raised his glass. “To us. To our team.”
    “I would advise some moderation,” Ship said. “That