The selection of drinks was not much to Sayeeda's liking. She sipped at an earthen mug of apple juice without enthusiasm. Apparently the local definition of cider did not include alcohol. Gerome smiled somewhat sheepishly at her obvious disappointment. 

"We consider the consumption of alcohol to be sinful," he admitted. A number of the younger men scowled disapprovingly at the very suggestion. There was clearly something of a disconnect between the younger generation who had been raised in pious seclusion and the oldsters who had direct experience of the galaxy beyond. 

"I guess I can keep my sinning in check until I get back to my ship," Sayeeda replied, before winking at Neil.

"Mostly at any rate," she amended, earning herself even darker glares from the fresh faced zealots. Gerome cleared his throat nervously but was spared from comment by the shimmering ring of an electronic chime. He stood and clapped his hands together.

"Brethren!" he called in a clear carrying voice which spoke to a background as an orator of some kind.

"Let us give thanks for the rejuvenation of our world and of our faith! Let us celebrate what God has given us and the blessing he has bestowed upon us. Remember what we have sacrificed, and what we must continue to sacrifice to attain the Grace our Creator has stored up for us. In his blessed name, Amen!"

"Amen," the congregation echoed and then devolved into cheers and shouts. Dancing broke out seemingly simultaneously and young men and women in white linens began to circulate among the crowds, uncovering foods and pouring drinks. Sayeeda smiled and stood up, taking Neil by the hand and leading him towards an open green where couples were beginning to dance. By chance her eyes fell on Gerome, who alone of the celebrants appeared to look troubled.