Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor Read Online Free Page B

had only one name. Borlinga was maybe a couple of years older than me. She sat quietly, dressed in the long unisex dark blue leggings and top that Shaktians all wore.
    Mike Takechi was not really an Outerworlder. He was a Martian, technically a US citizen. But in a sociological sense, he was no more an Earther than Borlinga or me. He was continually laughing, continually talking, continually getting up and walking to either group, staying for a few moments before coming back to the middle. He was a puppy trying to find a home where he fit in. But whereas Joda was a happy puppy, easy to please, Mike was a desperate and lonely puppy.
    Then there was Lindadawn Foster. “’Lindadawn,’ one word,” she told me. “Not ‘Linda Dawn.’” Lindadawn was the redhead who had taken charge at the bridge. She seemed to be being ignored now, so I didn’t know if not being in a group was her choice or that of the two nascent groups themselves.
    If anything the history of the show taught new contestants was that alliances were vital to survival. We were not allowed to kill anyone. No pushing off ledges, no hitting with rocks. But without being in an alliance, there were no helpful hands to pull you back onto the cliff, no one to form a defense when some beast attacked, no one to help cross a raging river. So there was always a scramble to insinuate oneself into a group as fast as possible. And by being killed so early, I was behind the powerball on this. Groups had already been formed.
    But history always had another lesson—alliances were constantly shifting and changing as cast members saw better ways to get ahead and get to the Final Two. A lot of money was at stake here. Not just for the prize money. But winners tended to make more than that on endorsements and appearance fees. Jacob Brooke, the Season 4 winner, had parlayed his win into a lucrative holo career as an action star. With that much at stake, well, alliances were only as good for as long as people felt they were to their advantage.
    It was rather peaceful sitting there, talking and listening. The temperature was a pleasant 30 degrees or so. It usually was kept comfortable in Haven, and despite the fact that the omni-present cams were continually broadcasting, it was supposed to be a place for us to relax and unwind. While the ground looked like bare dirt, it was actually a pretty comfortable synthetic material, so lying on it was like lying on a futon.
    “So Julie, you never told us why people call you that, if your name is really Siobhán.” Josh’s voice drifted over from where they were sitting.
    “Do you know how many baby girls were named after her?” she asked with an exaggerated frown. “Every other little girl for a couple of years was named Siobhán, it seemed like. I was tired of being one of a million. I wanted to be unique, so I demanded that everyone call me Julie, which is the English version of the name. My mother resisted, but eventually, after all the neighbor kids kept coming around and asking if ‘Julie’ could come out to play, even she came around. And I’ve been Julie ever since.”
    I was only listening with half an ear, but I found it kind of strange that a singer could hold that much sway over people. I’ve heard her music, of course, on old holo broadcasts or on old discs, and sure, she had a good voice. But to get that much adoration? To name your kids after her? It was a little creepy to me.
    On the other hand, I was trying hard not to stare at Joshua. We didn’t play American football on Monsanto, but we followed it pretty closely. We liked it better than football, speedball or basketball, the three big team sports on Earth. I wasn’t about to name my first born Joshua, but still, I was embarrassed at the little bit of hero-worship I felt.
    Hamlin seemed to feel the focus shift a bit from his group because he interjected “Hey Tobie. I don’t know if anyone’s naming kids after you, but you’re a better singer than Siobhán