Out in the commons, the colonists huddle
together by the food counter. From where we stand they look like
just a handful of people milling about, not so many after all. They
form a half-circle around one end of the counter, standing back so
there’s an empty space in their midst and it’s a fight, I
think, that’s the first thing that comes to mind—they look like
children in a schoolyard, gathered around a bully and his hapless
victim. No one notices us, no one turns as we approach. “What’s
going on?” Dylan whispers. The way he cranes his neck to see, I
think he already suspects.
He starts to push ahead of the others but I
grab his hand, hold him back. “We don’t need to get in the middle
of this,” I remind him as he strains my arm, pulling me along.
Ahead of us, Conlan stops at t
