Earthseed

some of their building supplies, a toilet which did not require water and which collected their waste for use as fertilizer in the fields. The drawback was that the latrine stank.
    Zoheret entered her room, which was hot and still, and stretched out on her cot, lying on her side. Across the room, Lillka’s shelf held a few piles of clothing, a small box filled with books on microdot, and a reader. Lillka had not had much time for reading, having become preoccupied with organizing the settlement.
    Lillka had surprised her. She seemed to know what work people would be best at, and tried to give everyone a combination of necessary chores and work that was more enjoyable, though they were free to trade jobs among themselves. Anoki, unable to do a lot of heavy work, did carpentry and tended the robots that had tilled the fields and now weeded them. Brendan hunted and cooked; Annie helped with the sewing; Bonnie supervised the crops. Zoheret, along with Dmitri and several others, was primarily a strong body to be assigned to work where needed.
    Occasionally she found herself resenting her old friend, whose air of authority had made her more distant. But Lillka suggested, she did not command; she consulted but did not order. She had no enemies and, because she had read a lot, others assumed she had special knowledge. She was good at settling disputes, did her share of the physical labor and thus avoided bad feeling. She complained about not having more time to herself, but that complaint contradicted her self-satisfaction. When the settlement had voted to call her leader, she had tried to refuse, but had been forced to accept; she was the leader anyway.
    Lillka was lucky. She had found something she excelled at, which put her a step ahead of Zoheret.
    She rolled over onto her stomach. She missed Ship, missed talking to it and just knowing it was there. She longed for her room, her comfortable bed, even for the lessons she had disliked studying before. The sound of distant voices reached her through her window. Someone laughed, and she heard a splash and then a shriek. She buried her face in her arms.

    The candle flame flickered, lighting the low table next to Dmitri’s cot, bathing his face in a soft, golden glow. Zoheret stretched an arm across Dmitri’s bare chest and reached for the bottle next to the candle. She sipped and put the bottle down.
    Dmitri stirred and opened his eyes. “I only have one big bottle left,” he said. “Lillka thinks I’ve been getting out of too many chores by trading liquor to people, but I’ve been making up for that, so maybe she’ll change her mind. She wants to limit the supply anyway, so we don’t get too used to it.”
    Zoheret lay on her back. The cot was narrow; her shoulder was pressing against the wall. “Nobody drinks much anyway. It only takes getting sick once to learn.”
    “Yeah. But people can get used to drinking more. You did. You don’t even want juice with it. You can really put it away.”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “You do, Zoheret.” He reached for her hand and held it. “Almost every time you stay with me, you do. Am I so bad that you have to have something else help you along?”
    “It isn’t that.” It did make it easier for her. She could forget that she did not have the strong, dizzying feeling for Dmitri that she had once had for Manuel.
    She had begun to spend time with Dmitri after the night of the party. Soon everyone had been treating them as a couple. It had been better than being alone and had made her transition to life in the Hollow simpler. She had also felt some satisfaction in thinking that Manuel might have noticed, before realizing that he was probably indifferent to her actions.
    She did not love Dmitri and was sure that he did not love her. They had managed at last to overcome their aversion to close physical contact, though she often had to remind herself not to shy away from him, and Dmitri sometimes seemed nervous when he touched her. She liked him, but her warmer feeling for him had faded; he told her that he needed her, whatever that meant. That was what it came down to—need and habit. For a few moments, at least, she could lose herself while making love to him.
    It isn’t supposed to be like this, she thought. She had even learned to enjoy the lovemaking, which at first she had endured only for the sake of his companionship; love hadn’t even been necessary. Often she felt more caring of Dmitri when they were in a group than