“I hardly think emotional attachment alone could have caused her death,” Yana said.
“It’s possible, Yana,” Clodagh said. “It’s possible. It’s hard to explain to you when you’ve been here such a short time but maybe when you witness the night chants, you’ll understand a little better. With Lavelle being the kind of woman she was, I knew, Sean knew, really all of us knew, that she was as unlikely to survive away from Petaybee as that colonel would out in the mountains without a parka. If we’d known that they’d planned to take her offplanet, we’d have protested, tried to stop them somehow.”
“Lavelle would have protested,” Sinead said in a bitter voice, her small rough hands knotted at her sides. “She must have told them. She didn’t need to know what her insides looked like lo know she would die offplanet.”
Yana gave a gusty sigh. “And much as 1 hate to say so, she could’ve told them till the sun turned cold and they wouldn’t have believed her.”
“Now they do?” Clodagh asked, her face impassive.
Yana shook her head, in anger, frustration, and a whole lot of other conflicting and negative emotions. She was tired. She was confused and disappointed and even somewhat disillusioned, something she had never thought would be possible again. This had seemed to be such a simple, happy place, and now it had a secret. All she wanted was to get some rest.
“It’s time to go now,” Sean reminded the others as he tucked his hand under Yana’s elbow. “You haven’t missed the chanting, Yana. It will revive you.”
Feeling the familiar surge of attraction for him mingle with all of the doubts, fears, and unanswered questions rolling through her mind, she wondered if he could be lying, if in spite of his protestations he was somehow tampering with these people’s genes so that they would never be able to leave. She had the oddest feeling that he was definitely hiding something, and that worried her more than any of the other secrets Petaybee held. Was Sean responsible for the problems Giancarlo had mentioned when she had first arrived? And if these people knew they were being changed, as some of them seemed to believe, why did they put up with it?
Yana regarded Sean for a long moment as his silver eyes appealed to her. Gazing up at him, she tried to see him as some sort of psychopath mad-scientist monster, and all she could think of was how wonderful it had been to dance with him tonight, and before that, their encounter at the hot springs. His expression grew less sad and serious as he watched her face, and she knew he could see her resolve to stay detached melting.
Then, with her voice wavering with unaccustomed indecision as much as weariness, she said, “Oh, frag, Scan. I’m really bushed. Nothing short of eight hours’ sack time is going to revive me.”
A sly smile kindled in his eyes and curved his lips. “Wanna bet?”
Clodagh unexpectedly touched her shoulder, her eyes gentle with sympathy. “You come, Yana. You’ll see.”
The cat came out with an authoritative “meh!,” provoking Yana to an exasperated laugh. She rubbed her forehead with an impatient gesture.
“You guys are bent on brainwashing me into a proper Petaybean, too, aren’t you?”
“Something like that,” Scan said in very good humor. He knew he had won. If he hadn’t exactly convinced her, she would at least let her wishful thinking override her better judgment for the time being. With a deft movement he closed the opening of her jacket, flipped her parka hood onto her head, and started pushing her hands into her gloves.
“Lemme do that,” she said, feeling a surge of almost childish rebellion. She didn’t want to feel completely manipulated just because she was willing to be reasonable. But she didn’t resist as he guided her along, following Bunny, Clodagh, Sinead, and Aisling back to the hall, which was still resounding with the sounds of merriment within.
Outside the door, a girl stood chatting with a man who was stirring the contents of a huge metal drum, set up over a small, fierce fire. As they passed, the man nodded, smiled, and smacked his lips appreciatively at the odors wafting up from the delicious-smelling concoction, soup or stew, in the big barrel. Clodagh took an exaggeratedly deep sniff, fanning the aroma toward her with both mittens.