Earthseed

paused. “I don’t know if I can help you.”
    “I have to go back and meet Ho.”
    “I know.”
    “I need supplies.”
    “I don’t know how you’re going to get them.”
    “I can’t just forget about the others.” Zoheret swallowed the last of the juice. “I have to go back, even with nothing. I couldn’t live with myself if they were hurt, or they died.”
    Brendan sighed. “I understand. I wish I didn’t.”
    “We might be able to get you a pack,” Bonnie said. “We can try.”
    “It won’t be enough.”
    “Better than nothing. Maybe you can stall Ho somehow, talk to him, gain some time until—”
    “Could you talk to him?” Zoheret said bitterly. “Ho? You must be kidding.”
    “Listen,” Brendan said, “we’ll try to come back later and—” His head jerked up. “Somebody’s coming.”
    Zoheret had already heard the low voices. She hoisted herself up the nearest tree limb and crawled in among the leaves, settling in the crotch of the tree. Bonnie and Brendan crept a short distance down the bank, then stretched out on a mossy spot, wrapping their arms around each other.
    A light swayed from side to side, describing an arc, then fell, illuminating the two figures on the ground. “Hey!” Brendan cried, managing to sound offended rather than frightened. He threw up a hand and sat up.
    “There you are,” a woman’s voice said. The hand holding the light pointed it at the ground. “You shouldn’t wander off like that.”
    “We wanted to be alone,” Brendan responded.
    “I can see that.”
    “You shouldn’t have come out here,” a man’s voice said. “It could be dangerous, especially at night.”
    Zoheret, afraid even to breathe, glanced down and realized with horror that she had left the empty bottle at the foot of the tree. She stared at the light bobbing up and down in the woman’s hand, waiting for it to shine in her direction and reveal the gleam of the bottle.
    “I know why you’re here,” the woman said. Zoheret’s fingers dug into her thighs. “They don’t want the others to know.” Her dark shape bent forward. “Brendan’s friend Lillka might be mad if she knew he was out here with someone else.” The voice rose and fell in a singsong, as if she were taunting the pair. “That is not a nice thing to do.” She laughed, as if their supposed misdeed gave her pleasure. “Come on. We’re going back. Time to sleep.”
    The two young people rose. A hand grabbed Bonnie, pulling her away from Brendan. Bonnie said, “You’re hurting me.”
    “Let’s go.”
    Zoheret stayed in the tree until she could no longer see the tiny, distant, dancing light.

    It had rained, and Zoheret was shivering by morning. After wringing out her soggy clothes and dressing again, she crept down to the river and drank. She stayed near the trees, hoping that Brendan or Bonnie would find a way to get a pack to her. But the morning passed without a sign from either.
    No one else came near her hiding place. She could hear the distant sounds of the settlement—the clatter of tools, even an occasional outburst of song. She thought of her life in the settlement now as she had once thought of her time in the corridors. It seemed a happier, more carefree time that she had not appreciated while living through it—happiness seemed always to exist in the past, never in the present.
    Ho might kill his captives; he might kill her. Accepting that did not make her fearful; instead, it seemed to blunt her feelings, making her feel stunned and empty. Ho had not worried that his cheating during Competition might cause deaths, and he had grown harder while living in the Hollow. He would bend his band to his will. He would not even have to raise a hand to his captives; he could let them starve slowly.
    She could avoid that fate if she remained here. Bonnie and Brendan might be wrong about the Earthpeople. She could stay, and live.
    As afternoon passed, fading into dusk, she realized that Bonnie and Brendan had failed, that no one would help her. The day, which had seemed endless while she waited, was now too short. Help me, she thought, and the words were swallowed by a void.
    Someone was approaching. Zoheret peered around a tree and saw Bonnie. The girl held out empty hands.
    “We can’t get a pack,” Bonnie said. “I couldn’t even get you more food.”
    Zoheret wrung her hands. “I’ll go to Ship,” she said. “It’ll tell us what to do. It’ll have to help now—these people