that. But they're my sisters. Dad and Mom always told me to look out for them.' He shook his head. 'Hell, I didn't even look out for Kassi and Mercy. If they hadn't saved themselves, I guess we'd all be dead.' He shoved his dinner away in self-disgust He had already eaten most of it But because we were on a bench rather than at a table, there was little room for shoving things. His plate fell off onto the floor and broke.

He stared at it, tears in his eyes—tears that had nothing to do with broken china.

I reached for his hand.

He flinched away, then looked up from the plate and stared at me through his tears.

I took his hand again, and looked back at him. 'We have friends in some of the nearby towns,' I said. 'We've already left word with them. We're offering a reward for the girls or for information that leads us to them. If we can, we'll snatch them. If we have to, we'll buy them.' I sighed.  “I can't promise anything, Dan, but we'll do what we can. And we need you to help us. Travel with us to street markets, stores, and shops in nearby communities. Help us to look for them.'

He went on staring at me as though I might be lying, as though he could find the truth in my face, if only he stared hard enough at it. 'Why? Why would you do that?'

I hesitated, then drew a deep breath and told him. 'We've all lost people,' I said. 'Everyone here has lost members of their families to fire, to murder, to raids.... I had a father, a stepmother, and four younger brothers. All dead. All. When we can save life ... we do. We couldn't stand it any other way.'

And still, he stared at me. But now he was shaking. He made me think of a crystal thing, vibrating to sound, about to shatter. I pulled him to me, held him, this big child, taller than me. I felt his tears, wet on my shoulder, then felt his arms go around me, hugging back, still shaking, silent, des­perate, hanging on.

 

Chapter 5

?  ?  ?

From EARTHSEED: THE BOOKS OF THE LIVING

Beware:

At war

Or at peace.

More people die

Of unenlightened self-interest

Than of any other disease.

THE SELECTIONS I'VE OFFERED from my mother's journal make it clear that in spite of her near nineteenth-century ex­istence she paid attention to the wider world. Politics and war mattered very much. Science and technology mattered. Fashions in crime and drug use and in racial, ethnic, religious, and class tolerance mattered. She did see these as fashions, by the way—as behaviors that went in and out of favor for reasons that ran the gamut from the practical to the emo­tional to the biological. Human competitiveness and territo­riality were often at the root of particularly horrible fashions in oppression. We human beings seem always to have found it comforting to have someone to took down on—a bottom level of fellow creatures who are very vulnerable, but who can somehow be blamed and punished for all or any troubles.  We need this lowest class as much as we need equals to team with and to compete against and superiors to look to for di­rection and help.

My mother was always noticing and mentioning things like that. Sometimes she managed to work her observations into Earthseed verses. In November of 2032 she had bigger rea­sons than usual to pay attention to the world outside.

from The Journals of Lauren Oya Olamina

sunday, november 7, 2032

News.

Tucked away at Acorn as we are, we have to make a spe­cial effort to get news from outside—real news, I mean, not rumors, and not the 'news bullets' that purport to tell us all who we need to know in flashy pictures and quick, witty, ver­bal one-two punches. Twenty-five or thirty words are sup­posed to be enough in a news bullet to explain either a war or an unusual set of Christmas lights. Bullets are cheap and full of big dramatic pictures. Some bullets are true virtuals that allow people to experience—safely—hurricanes, epi­demics, fires, and mass murder. Hell of a kick.

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