Earthseed

important than a few people. She would realize that Ho could use his prisoners to extract an endless supply of goods, draining the settlement. Why should they work to feed Ho? And if that was the decision, Zoheret knew that she would have to go to the island anyway, empty-handed, and share the fate of the others; she could not abandon them.

13
    Zoheret had rowed the boat only a short distance up the river before pulling it out of the water. Turning it over, she had covered it with dead branches, and had then walked up the hill and along the side of the deepening chasm until she reached the bridge.
    The bridge, made of rope and wood planks, hung over the river near the spot where the dead tree had once connected the chasm’s sides. As the bridge swayed under her, she clung to the ropes with sore hands, wincing as rope rubbed against blisters.
    When she reached the other side, she jogged forward and almost fell. She was weak from the rowing and lack of sound sleep; her meager breakfast had left her hungry. The thought of her friends in captivity, who would not eat at all until she returned, quickened her steps. She could have rowed up the river to the settlement, but she was unused to handling a boat and would have been rowing against a strong current; she could move more quickly this way. Now she would have to persuade the settlement not only to give up some of their needed supplies, but also to carry them down to the boat.
    I’m not handling this well, she thought, wishing Ho had sent one of the others. But even limited freedom was better than none at all. Her friends were not completely helpless; they might be bargaining with Ho for a meal. But what could they offer him? Information—they knew about the people in the corridors, and that bit of knowledge might be worth trading. The captives might trade away a possible advantage.
    As she thrashed through underbrush, she glared at the trees to her left. Unseeing, unhearing sensors were concealed there; Ship had abandoned them as completely as if it had already left them on a strange world.

    Zoheret neared the bend in the river. The river no longer flowed in a chasm, and had widened; the settlement lay below her, a short distance beyond the trees.
    She stopped for a moment, trying to think of what she would say. It would be best if she talked to Lillka or Brendan before seeing anyone else. It was already afternoon; they would be at the storehouse or perhaps in the field.
    She heard a roar, and jumped. The roar was steady; she had never heard anything quite like it. She cupped one ear. The roar was machinelike; it was steady, but seemed to be fading. Puzzled, she crept in its direction, keeping low, and looked out from the trees at the distant shacks.
    A machine resembling a cart, but larger, rode over the burned field. The ground had been turned and the machine, dragging what looked like a giant comb behind it, was digging rows. There was a cab on top of the machine, and someone inside it, steering. Zoheret turned to the nearest tree and climbed up; the bark was rough against her sore hands. She stood up on a limb and peered out through the branches.
    In the plain just beyond the settlement stood five square vehicles with tracks; she thought of metal beasts preying on the settlement. Clinging to the tree trunk, she turned toward the storehouse. A group of young people had gathered there; two figures were sitting in the shadows of the porch. One of them rose and walked out to the steps. It was a man, and he wore a short beard.
    Zoheret thought, They’ve come out from the corridors. They had lied. Why? What were they trying to do? A glint caught her eyes. A square, glassy booth with slots was on the porch—a food dispenser. Her mouth watered. The man was speaking, but she could not hear his voice. The small group dispersed and the man retreated to the shadows. Then she noticed something else; part of a fence had been erected around the edge of the settlement itself.
    She perched on the tree limb, thinking. Either the people in the corridors had lied, or this was yet another group of strangers. How many secrets had Ship kept from them?
    She would have to be cautious. She did not know how these strangers would handle her appeal; she did not even know who they were, or how they had come here, and there was little time to find out.

    Zoheret crept along the riverbank, concealing herself among some reeds. The day had grown overcast, the river misty. For once, she was