Earthseed

Ship paused. “You are all older now. Things will change.”
    “Then you think Manuel’s right.”
    “I haven’t drawn a conclusion. I must hear his arguments first. You had better study, Zoheret. You’ll want to be on time for the meeting.”

    On one side of the dining hall’s doorway, the round, pretty face of Kameko Sato, captured in a holographic portrait, stared sightlessly into the corridor; on the other side, the angular, thin face of Halim al-Haq seemed to glower. Images of the two were almost everywhere—in classrooms, Ship’s laboratories, the nursery where the children had been raised. Zoheret had grown up under their gaze, had heard Ship’s stories of the mother and father of the Project. Zoheret had, like the others, become oblivious of the images. Now she glanced at them and felt a sharp resentment. Two people, who had died long ago, still ruled; their dream controlled everyone inside Ship and even Ship itself.
    As she entered the dining hall, Zoheret searched the room for Lillka. The blond girl was sitting in one corner on a table, legs folded; the chairs and spaces around her were taken.
    Someone bumped against her. Zoheret turned around quickly and saw Gowon. She followed him to the nearest table and sat on its edge; Gowon sat next to her, but not too close. She did not like people to get too near her in a crowd; in this, she was like all the others. They all shied away from too much bodily contact, unlike the people of Earth she had seen on the holo during lessons on Earth’s customs. But the people of Earth had had mothers and fathers to hold them and care for them when they were little. Zoheret and her companions had been held and fed only by Ship’s mechanical limbs.
    Some of the others were growing restless. “Let’s go,” one boy sitting on the floor shouted. This comment drew a few catcalls and whistles, and then one group began to clap.
    Anoki and Willem were sitting on chairs near one wall. Anoki scowled at the clappers; Willem grinned and began to clap. One girl turned around, stared at Willem, then motioned to a friend. The two girls watched Willem; their lips curled. Willem continued to slap his hands together, his shaggy brown hair swaying as he bobbed his head to the rhythm. His mouth was open; saliva glistened on his lower lip. Anoki touched Willem’s elbow; the two girls turned away.
    Manuel suddenly climbed onto a table near the front of the room and held up his arms. The clapping became a smattering, then stopped. Someone hooted; Manuel turned toward the hooter. He looked proud, and a little cruel; his regular features seemed sharper in the lighted room. He wore no shirt; his olive skin gleamed. Ho stood on the floor, behind Manuel; Bonnie was next to him. Bonnie raised a hand and smoothed back her long, brown hair; she gazed possessively at Manuel with her large green eyes. Zoheret looked away, then glanced apprehensively at Gowon, but he was watching Manuel.
    Manuel waited until the room was still, then spoke. “We’ll all be going to the Hollow soon to live. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
    “So what else is new?” someone shouted from one corner. A few people giggled; the giggling stopped when Manuel glared at that corner.
    “We have to learn how to live by ourselves,” Manuel went on. “So I think Ship should shut down its sensors while we’re there. We’re getting too dependent on Ship. We always expect it to be there, and it keeps us from thinking for ourselves.”
    Zoheret heard the hum of murmurs; then Lillka waved a hand. Manuel nodded in her direction.
    “Won’t that be dangerous?” Lillka asked. “We’re not used to living there—we’ve only been there for short periods. We might need Ship.”
    “I’ve thought of that,” Manuel replied smoothly. “Ship wouldn’t have to shut down until we’re settled and it’s sure we can handle things. And we wouldn’t ask it to shut down unless most of us are agreed. Well, that’s all I have to say. We ought to start thinking about it.”
    Zoheret looked down. If anyone else had proposed the idea, she might have agreed easily. But Manuel had said it. He was always in trouble even with Ship watching; what would he do without Ship’s vigilance?
    A boy named Tonio had just asked a question she had missed. She forced herself to concentrate. Manuel shrugged. “Even that isn’t a problem,” he answered. “If we do need Ship’s help, we can always send someone back to the