The Circadia Chronicles: Omnibus: The Complete Colonization Sci-Fi Series by Heather Heckadon (books to read to get smarter .txt) 📗

and Keith will supervise during the trips back and forth, just to keep an eye on you and show you where to put the logs.”

When I glanced over from sawing, I saw a man and a woman standing beside Smith, waiting. We kept sawing until the tree began to make crackling noises and started to tip. Hurriedly we sawed as much as we could and stepped away from the direction the tree began to fall. It crashed to the ground with a ‘whoosh’ as the branches and leaves cushioned its fall, and the other half of the captured people rushed over to break limbs off and lay them in a pile.

Smith walked towards the girl I was sawing with. “Hey,” he said, “I don’t believe we’ve met before all this. What team were you on?”

She continued sawing but turned to answer him. “No!” she screamed. We both held rigid as a huge branch cracked over Smith’s head. Smith fell to the ground with a crumbling thud. The man standing behind him was one of our own and was tackled to the ground within seconds by Greta and Keith. The man screamed in anger at Smith, his wrists pinned to the dirt floor of the woods, “You traitor!”

Smith rubbed the back of his head from the ground as he lifted from the ground and slowly stood. Now, towering over his assailant, he looked down at the man malevolently, “Take him back to camp. Leslie will know what to do with him.”

Greta and Keith nodded and stood the man up. He pulled against their grasp and threw them off balance as they all three fell to the ground once again. There was a struggle for a while, until Smith’s voice was heard. “Enough!” he yelled. Greta and Keith caught their footing and prevailed. The man stood with them and spit in Smith’s direction as they walked away. The rest of us stood in shock.

“Get back to work,” Smith said.

All of us immediately resumed our duties as the other three men observed and a few occasionally went with people hauling logs. Smith sat quiet under a tree, out of the way, rubbing his head.

As the sun rose high into the sky, my belly rumbled after Smith announced it was time for lunch. We were escorted back to camp in a single file line once again. I walked up front with Smith. “Can I talk freely?” I asked.

He threw a sideways glance at me and smiled. “Of course, we’re friends right?”

“Why’d you choose Leslie?” I asked. I stared at him and he stared back.

For a moment, he didn’t answer, until he said, “It wasn’t personal. Why wouldn’t someone pick the winning side? He told me before we left that I’d wanna stay in touch. I didn’t know what he meant at the time, but when I called him up here from the softphone, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone else? Why’d you keep it a secret?”

“He told me not to, but it’s not like this would’ve gone down any differently, maybe even worse had I told you guys. It was better this way. If you can’t see now that it’s better to be on the winning side, then you definitely wouldn’t have seen it then. Am I right?” he asked.

He wasn’t wrong, and I couldn’t disagree with him. “You’re right,” I replied.

“Do you feel any differently about me now?” he asked. “Did you think that question would make you feel better about me?”

“No, just wanted to understand why someone would stand on the losing end of things. Someone already bashed your head in once today, you really think that’s going to be the end of it?” My cold stare attempted to burn through his head, but instead, I was met with his cold eyes.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Conversation stopped after that, and we walked quietly into camp. When we returned, I didn’t see the man who had hit Smith anywhere. Forced to turn in our tools, we were directed back towards our small house. Inside it was still sweltering hot. They asked us to walk in and padlocked the door behind us. An hour later, we were brought our rations that consisted of two glasses of water, a third of a corn cob that was halfway rotten, and a small loaf of hard bread. There was no protein to keep our bodies nourished; just enough food to keep us from rebelling or complaining. We ate our food quietly.

Once we were finished, they unlocked the door, took us to the tool shed, and sent us out to work again. We sawed all day long while Smith and his men watched.

Night fell, and we returned the tools and went back to our house to be locked up for the night. Sleep came hard and fast, and I was never so grateful. We would have to start again in the morning on whatever project they saw fit. The daunting tasks of each day would never be known, and it discouraged me. How could I ever possibly get away if I couldn’t plan?

Smith announced in the morning that we would be working the fields. My heart jumped with joy. Finally. I was an agronomist brought here to grow crops, and I had succeeded. The fields of wheat and soy were my pride and joy, and I couldn’t wait to get back there.

They equipped us with new tools and sent us out. Smith followed behind the group this time, making sure to keep his distance from everyone. My saw mate from the day before struck up a conversation as we walked side by side “So, you were part of the agricultural team?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m an agronomist—specializing in crops—so this is kinda my thing,” I said. “What about you? What team were you on?”

“I was on the engineering team,” she said.

“Oh yeah, what did you do? Like, what kind of engineer, and what did you do here?”

“Well, my specialty was transportation,