Enter Foster and Sailor
Sailor Smells good.
Foster Sure does. Where's your old man?
Sailor Helping the cooks bring in the food.
Foster Oh, I see him. Why don't you stake out a spot, kiddo. I'm going to go talk to your dad.
Sailor I think I'll wait for the Capitol man to get here, so he can choose first.
Foster What for?
Sailor I don't want to accidentally take the seat he wants.
Foster All right, I'll be back. Try to stay out of the way of all the people with platters, okay?
Enter Pamela and Shoal among colonists
Pamela What is that on your shoe?
Shoal What? Nothing’s on my shoe.
Pamela Right there; it looks like tape.
Shoal Oh, that. Yeah, there is a hole in this one.
Pamela A hole! They're brand new!
Shoal Oh well. It's not a big deal.
Pamela We'll get another pair. I don't want my child walking around looking like a deprived colonist—putting tape all over your shoes. Goodness.
Shoal Mom, it's not a big deal.
Pamela Oh, hello there, sweetie. I didn't know there was Beta Generation here.
Sailor Yes, I'm the only one.
[to Shoal] I'm Sailor.
Shoal Well what?
Pamela Give him your name; shake his hand.
Shoal Mom, he's just a little kid. I've got it.
Pamela How old are you, Sailor?
Sailor I'll be ten by the frost.
Shoal The frost, huh? We call it “winter” at the Capitol.
Sailor There is no winter at Forty-Four. Just a little frost in second-month.
Pamela Ten years old, really! Shoal here turned thirteen last fifth-month.