Earthseed, page 2
Ship was silent.
“Maybe,” Anoki said, “you just should have let us die.”
“Oh, no,” Ship said softly. “I couldn’t have done that. It was my purpose to care for you and to raise you. That was what I had to do.”
“You don’t want to die, not really,” Zoheret said.
“How would you know?” Anoki pushed himself out of the chair with his arms and stood up. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Ship watches us all the time. It’ll look out for me whether I want to die or not.” He limped from the library; the door opened and slid shut behind him.
“I’d better go after him,” Lillka said wearily.
“Don’t worry,” Ship said. “I think he needs to be alone for a bit. He’ll feel better later on. It’s normal for him to be depressed or impatient during his convalescence. That’s what my records tell me.”
Zoheret sighed. Ship never seemed to realize that others might want to be truly alone for a while, without Ship’s constant surveillance. They could escape it only in the caves and passageways just outside the corridors. Ship had watched them all their lives; even when it withdrew, not speaking, it watched. Its consciousness seemed to be everywhere. That had comforted her when she was small, knowing that she was guarded and watched—at least it had comforted her as long as she had done nothing wrong.
She had personified Ship then. She still recalled the childish concept she had once held. She had imagined Ship as a person, as a nebulous and insubstantial body dwelling in the circuits, traveling along them as it watched over the children. When Ship had spoken in its alto, she had seen, in her mind, a pretty woman with a strong but gentle face and flowing silvery hair. When it used its tenor, she had imagined a kindly man with the same silvery hair and face. Even now the old images would return, unbidden, but she knew that Ship was not human. She remembered how, when she was little and still living in the nursery, Ship would hold her with its metal attachments and press her gently against its wall when she needed affection. It had seemed very human then. She wondered who had changed more—she or Ship.
Lillka was staring at her reader. “I don’t care what Ship says. The more I try to find out, the more questions I have. Remember when we looked at the holos of my parents?”
Zoheret nodded. Lillka’s parents had been broad-faced, stocky people with laughing faces and cold gray eyes. They had, according to Ship, made a pledge to each other called marriage, which meant that they had promised to live with each other for a certain period until it was time either to make a new pledge or to separate. “I remember. What about them?”
“Ship told me they had both been trained as astronomers. It said they had worked in an observatory on Earth’s natural satellite. Then it said they had spent many years on Earth living in an agricultural commune until the Project.”
“They lived outside an old city called Odessa,” Ship said, “near a large body of water called the Black Sea.”
“I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Zoheret. Will you keep quiet?”
“Certainly. I was only trying to be specific.”
“Why does that bother you?” Zoheret asked.
“Think about it. They were on this satellite, the Moon. Ship told us that astronomers couldn’t work as well on Earth because its atmosphere interfered with observations—the telescopes couldn’t see the stars as well. But they went back to Earth, and then they became farmers. Don’t you wonder why?”
“Maybe they just wanted to do something different.”
“Maybe. But something about it bothers me. They worked on the Project. Ship says they were responsible for much of the work that decided its destination. But for a long time they didn’t do any astronomy at all.”
“I still don’t see what’s so strange.”
“I’ve looked at their faces,” Lillka replied. “I’ve watched them walk around. They look angry sometimes, even when they laugh. They look as though there’s something they hate.”
“I think you’re imagining it.”
“I thought I was. Now I’m not so sure.”
Zoheret got up. “I think I’ll go to the Hollow. Want to come?”
Lillka shook her head. “I want to read some more. Maybe I’ll be in the gym later.”
2
Zoheret skated down the curved corridor until she came to its end, near Ship’s center. She took off her skates and slipped on the moccasins she had tied to her belt, then opened a panel in the wall, putting the skates inside. There were several other pairs on the shelf.
The wide door slid open, showing her the Hollow. Ship said, “You should not go in there alone.”
“I won’t go far. I’ll stay near the entrance.”
“You should exercise some caution. I can watch, and issue warnings, but there’s little I can do here.”
“I know.”
“The natural realm has its beauty—it is the true home of humankind. But it also—”
“—has its dangers,” Zoheret finished, having heard these words before. She walked through the entrance and stood under a slender tree. “Be careful,” Ship’s voice said from the tree. She leaned against the trunk, staring at the Hollow.
She was standing on a small grassy hill. Below it, she saw the tall trees of a forest. The Hollow was greater in size than any other part of Ship; it would take at least two days to cross it on foot. The land stretched out before her, appearing to be flat, but the distant horizon was higher than it would have been on flat ground, and overhead, just beyond wispy clouds, she could see ribbons of water and the leafy green tops of trees made tiny by the distance. The Hollow was like the inside of a sphere, an enclosed world. A diffuse yellow light permeated the area. A finch chirped nearby; Zoheret glimpsed a nest in the tree’s limbs.
She took a deep breath, smelling the odors of grass and leaves and flowers, and noticed that she was not alone on the hill. A few paces below her, a boy sat, his back to her, his arm resting on a pack. She took another breath. The air of the corridors always seemed stale and sterile after she returned from the Hollow.
Ship had first brought all of them here several years ago, allowing them to remain for short periods of time as long as they stayed near the entrances. They had been prepared for the experience, since they had all spent some time wired up while Ship reproduced in their minds the images and sensations of a natural environment. But those experiences had been like dreams compared to the Hollow itself. The dangers she had encountered while wired—the bear, the deep waters of the lake, the dark woods where one could easily get lost—had been insubstantial. Here, they were all too real. She remembered Etienne, who had wandered off alone to the lake, and who would have drowned if Ship’s voice had not guided the others to the lake in time.
Home, she thought. Earth lived in the Hollow, and humankind had always called Earth home. It was what human beings were made for; Ship had told them that. The world they were moving toward was like Earth; it would be another home. They would become part of that world and would grow to love it as their ancestors had loved Earth.
Ship was always talking of it. “Don’t you ever wonder,” Lillka had said, “why Ship’s always harping on it? Nature, our destiny, being in harmony with our world.” Lillka, of course, preferred the library to the Hollow.
Zoheret walked down the hill. “Gowon,” she shouted to the boy, wondering why he was there alone. He looked up and smiled. He wore beige pants and a brown shirt almost as dark as his skin. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” He gestured at the pack. “Manuel and Ho went into the woods—they dumped this here and told me to watch it for them.”
“Well, you don’t have to. They could have left it in the corridor.”
Gowon shook his head. “When those guys tell you to do something, you do it.” He glanced up at the tree. “Ship can’t hear us if we keep our voices low.”
“Ship’ll shut down some of its sensors if you ask it to.”
“I know, but I don’t like to ask. Ship starts to think you’re hiding something.”
“Are you?” Zoheret asked. “Hiding something, I mean. You must be if you don’t want Ship to hear.”
“I’m not. I just don’t want to talk to it now.” Gowon ran a hand over his stiff black hair. “I’ll tell you what Manuel and Ho think.”
“Manuel and Ho.” Zoheret sat down. “Those two are just looking for trouble. You shouldn’t bother with them.”
“I suppose I should bother with Anoki and Willem instead.”
“Don’t make fun of Anoki.”
“I’m not. I don’t care about his limp—it’s his attitude I can’t take. He’s so gloomy. Willem’s the only kid who’s dumb enough to put up with it.” Gowon let his mouth hang open and widened his brown eyes, then flapped his arms.
Zoheret tried not to laugh. “Stop it.” She pushed against his shoulder.
“That’s how he looks. Does Ship actually think somebody like Willem is going to stay alive when we get where we’re going?”
“He will if we help him.”
“He’s retarded, Zoheret. He’s never going to get better.”
“It could have happened to you. You could have been born like Willem. Would you want people laughing at you?”
Gowon shrugged. He stretched out his legs and pointed his toes. “Poor Willem.” He said it as though he did not care. “Manuel likes you.”
“What?”
“He likes you. I can tell. He thinks you have a nice face.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Zoheret suddenly felt flustered. She looked down at the ground so that Gowon could not see her eyes. “Anyway, I don’t like him.” She was blushing; she could feel her cheeks growing warm. “Anyway, he’s with Bonnie.”
“They don’t get along so much now. He got what he wanted from her. Bonnie had a big argument with Ship about it. Ship told her she should have more respect for herself and consider her actions, but she just laughed and said she’d do what she wanted.”
“I don’t want to hear about it,” Zoheret said, waiting for him to tell more.
“I think it’s kind of strange for Ship to tell us we should restrain ourselves when nothing’s going to happen.” He gestured at the tiny white line on his lower right arm; each of them had such a mark where Ship had inserted a tiny contraceptive implant. “We can’t have kids now anyway. And when we leave Ship, we’ll have to have kids to survive. So we might as well learn how to enjoy what we have to do to get them. That’s what I think.”
She laughed. “You never did it.”
“How do you know? Anyway, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t.”
Zoheret drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around them. Sometimes it was hard being friends with boys now; it had been easier when she was younger. She often felt uneasy and awkward around them. She would be talking to one, and then, without warning, would feel flustered and embarrassed, unable to be herself. At least Anoki, whatever his faults, didn’t make her feel like this.
“Ship says we have to learn restraint,” she said slowly, “because we’ll need a stable society, and we won’t have one if we don’t have some sort of code of behavior.” Even as she spoke, she hated the prissy sound of her words. “Ship doesn’t tell us what to do, it just says we have to think about what it means, and be sure we know what we want, and not just go on our feelings.”
“Oh, sure.” Gowon tilted his head. “You learned your lessons. Ship ought to give you a big prize. Maybe I won’t tell you what Manuel and Ho said.”
“About what?”
“About Ship.” He leaned toward her. “You’ll find out soon enough anyway. They think Ship ought to shut down its sensors here in the Hollow. I mean all its sensors, not just its ears once in a while.”
“But why?” She brushed back a lock of hair. “So they can get into more trouble?”
“No, so that we can get along on our own. When we get to the new world, we’re not going to have Ship to save us if something happens.”
“It’ll be in orbit.”
“But it won’t be able to help us directly. Manuel thinks we should have more practice in taking care of ourselves. Ship’s going to want us to spend more time in the Hollow anyway—we’re supposed to live in it soon. Why shouldn’t it shut down and see how we do without it?”
Zoheret rested her chin on her knees. It might be Manuel’s idea, but it made sense. Maybe Ship would agree with Manuel; if it did, it would shut down its sensors and keep its promise. Ship always kept its promises. She thought of being without its constant watching eyes, and her excitement was tinged with fear.
“When are they going to ask it?” she said.
“Soon. I don’t really know.”
“Want to skate back with me? I’m going over to the gym.”
Gowon looked around uneasily. “I’d better stay here. Those two will get mad if they can’t find me.”
3
There was one room Zoheret had never seen; neither had anyone else. It stood at the end of the corridor on the last level. The room was a storage area, according to Ship; it contained biological materials that had to be stored at low temperatures, which was why no one could go there.
The room had two large, sealed doors. As she untied her skates, Zoheret glanced toward the end of the corridor at those doors. Ship carried part of Earth not only in the Hollow, but also behind those doors—seeds and animal embryos and a computer that would analyze their new home’s life forms and determine which plants and animals could thrive there, and which would be needed.
Lillka, surprisingly, was in the gym. She sat in a rower, pulling at the oars with grim determination. Her stocky body was strong, but Ship often had to urge her to go to the gym. Exercise was not something that Lillka enjoyed, but a duty; she did what she had to do and no more.
Zoheret waved at her friend as she walked toward the mats; for once, they had the gym to themselves. A doorway at the far end of the gym led to the swimming pool; she could hear the echoes of splashes and shouts. As she bent and stretched, she thought of Lillka’s comments about the storage area.
“They wanted to make the world we’re going to like Earth,” Lillka had said. “But it’ll have its own life forms, its own ecology. Either we’ll end up destroying it, or we won’t fit in.” Zoheret had dismissed the doubts; surely Ship and the people working on the Project had known about possible difficulties and had allowed for them. Ship’s probes would explore the world thoroughly before they went down to it to live.
She sat down, stretched out her legs, grabbed her ankles, and touched her head to her knees. Her knees were bony. She thought of Bonnie, with her curving calves and high, round breasts; that was all Manuel really cared about. Lillka was panting as she rowed. Lillka asked too many questions and thought she could answer them by thinking and reading. Well, she couldn’t. Some of them could be answered only by experience, and others would never be answered. That was the way things were, and there was nothing to be done about it.
Lillka abandoned the rower and sprawled on a nearby mat while Zoheret lay on her back and lifted her legs. “Competition’s coming up,” Lillka said.
“I know.”
“Ship hasn’t even had us draw for teams yet. I hope we’re on the same one. Not that it matters. Who cares who wins those things? I don’t.” Lillka sighed. “I hope it’s problem-solving or games this time, and not swimming or something like that.”
“Ship hasn’t said. I get the feeling”—Zoheret paused as she lifted her legs one last time—“that it’s planning something different.”
“I think so, too.”
Zoheret sat up, waiting for Ship to interject a comment, but it remained silent.
“I don’t know why Ship makes us have a competition anyway,” Lillka continued. “Everybody gets all worked up about it as if it matters who wins, and some kids get nasty about it, and then when it’s all over, Ship tries to make it seem as though we all gained something and gives us that stuff about teamwork and building your character. Building your character!” Lillka sniffed. “I’m going back to the library. Maybe the competition’ll be questions and answers. I could beat anybody on that.”
Zoheret retreated to her room after supper. She had never cared for the noise and disorder of the dining hall, and ate as many meals in her room as Ship would allow. Fortunately, her room, which she shared with Lillka and a girl named Kagami, was empty.
Ignoring the vases and drawings with which Kagami had littered her part of the room, Zoheret slid her desk top out of the wall and set up her reading screen. She sat down, determined to master her anatomy lesson. As she stared at the diagrams of muscles, her mind drifted.
I’m not very good at studying, she thought. She could learn what others learned, but it seemed to take her longer than some. That might be only because she found it difficult to concentrate. She tried to force her attention back to the diagrams. Lillka could study something and learn it quickly and have questions about it and come up with implications that would never have occurred to Zoheret.
She was still staring at the diagrams when Ship spoke. “Manuel has asked me to tell all of you that he will have a proposal to offer during your meeting in the dining hall. He and several others wish to discuss your relationship with me during your forthcoming sojourn in the Hollow. If you cannot attend in person, please turn on your screens at that time. If you cannot participate in the meeting at all, give me your excuse, and I’ll provide a recording for you later.”
Zoheret frowned. It might be interesting to see Manuel actually offer a proposal, since he usually spent his time at meetings addressing humorous remarks at the speaker or fooling around with his friends in the back of the room. But she already knew what he was going to say.
“I’ll watch it here,” she said to Ship.
“No, you won’t. You’ll go to the hall. You don’t have an excuse.”
“I do. I have to study. I need every minute.”
“You’ll have plenty of time until then. You would learn more if you applied yourself and spent your time more efficiently.”
