Earthseed

didn’t do anything.”
    “You saved the settlement, and the Project.”
    “And what about you?” Tonio had regained his courage and was facing Aleksandr. “Maybe all we have is a new master. Are you and your friends going to take over now?”
    “There are people here who went along with the strangers, too,” Bonnie shouted. “Why should we let them off with no punishment?”
    Aleksandr seemed bewildered; he glanced uneasily toward Kieu.
    Then Ship spoke. “Listen to me.”
    Its tenor voice seemed to fill the settlement, resounding from the trees to the banks of the river. The voice terrified Zoheret; it was the voice of a god about to render judgment.
    “You have judged the Earthfolk,” Ship said. “Perhaps their punishment is fitting—not because I think you have the wisdom to judge them, but because it is a practical solution to a problem. But that is where judging must end. You will resume your life here, and when your new home has been thoroughly explored and mapped, you will be taken there. If you wish to pass your judgments there, and let the rifts among you grow wider, that is your affair. If you destroy yourselves and become one with the dust of that world, leaving nothing, I shall begin again and I shall keep trying until my seed takes root or I am forced to consider you a hopeless species. But you will not tear yourselves apart as long as you dwell within me. If you do, I shall expel you immediately and leave you on the new world with only the weapons you seem to value so highly. Be warned—I shall be watching.”
    The silence was total after Ship’s speech; even the birds in the woods were mute. No one moved for a long time. Aleksandr gazed out at the crowd, resting his hands on the porch railing. “My friends and I will be leaving for the corridors tomorrow.” His voice seemed weak and tentative. “We have friends to revive, and we must take the Earthfolk back there to be …” He paused. “We won’t be here trying to tell you what to do, which is probably best. I’m sure you’ll manage without us.”

    The barbed-wire enclosure that the Earthpeople had put up now held them prisoner. Daniella and Owen watched from the porch while Manuel patrolled the periphery. Zoheret gazed at the seated Geula; the woman glanced at her, then turned away.
    Manuel came toward Zoheret; they circled the wire, moving away from the huddled captives. “Are you all right?” he asked.
    She nodded. “The woman who shot me—she’s my mother.”
    “It doesn’t matter. She didn’t know.”
    “She knew.”
    He gestured at her stump. “Does it hurt a lot?”
    “Sometimes.” At least he was acknowledging her injury, instead of pretending it did not exist. “It feels as though I still have an arm there.”
    “Zoheret—” His voice was uncertain, his eyebrows drawn together. “I’m sorry about Dmitri.”
    She swallowed hard, then closed her eyes for a moment.
    “It’s partly my fault. If I’d stood up to Ho sooner, he wouldn’t have been—”
    “No,” she said. “Ho would have made you a prisoner, too, and then you couldn’t have done a thing.” She wanted to believe it. She turned from him and hurried down the road between the shacks.

    Zoheret sat on the bank, watching the river shimmer in the dim, silvery light. “Zoheret?” The voice was so soft that she was not sure she had heard it. “Shouldn’t you sleep?” Ship whispered from the reeds. “You’ll be leaving for the corridors tomorrow—I’m already planning your arm replacement. You should rest.”
    “I’ll get enough sleep. How long will I be gone?”
    “Not long. I’m sure the settlement can get along without the heroine of its battle for a little while.” Ship was teasing her. “You’ll come back with a new arm. Part of it can be regenerated, and the prosthesis will be wedded to it. You’ll find it satisfactory. I’m even working on a miniature camera device that could give Luis limited vision. There are ways.”
    “Then why didn’t you do anything for him before?”
    “Because he had to learn how to live with those limitations. It’s something we must all learn in different ways. And there were other reasons. Luis was afraid of growing dependent on a piece of technology which might give him sight and then rob him of it again if it failed, leaving him more helpless than if he hadn’t had it at all. And Anoki could have had new hip joints and legs, but he was afraid of the same thing. You must remember