The Circadia Chronicles: Omnibus: The Complete Colonization Sci-Fi Series Read online

  “Whoa!” I held up my hands in submission. “Not at all what I said, not that I wasn’t thinking it...” I laughed, my cheeks hot from embarrassment. “I think it’s awesome you’re here. You show ‘em! You showed me, that’s for damn sure.”

  She blushed a bit and slowly slicked back her ponytail as she looked at the floor. “Sorry, I’ve just gotten that reaction a lot tonight.”

  “No, it’s okay! I get it. That asshole behind me,” I pointed over my shoulder at the man and said it loud enough for him to hear, “told me to ‘go do my farming gig somewhere else.’ What a jerk! People are terrible, but don’t let them get to you. You are here for a reason.”

  The man twisted in his chair and gave me a disgusted look before turning back.

  “Thanks.” Jane giggled. “So, you’re a farmer?”

  “Well, kind of. I’m an agronomist.”

  “Oh! So, you’re a pretty important person here. If we’re going to survive up there very long, we are going to have to eat!” She smiled. “What made you want to be a part of this whole thing?”

  “It’s cheesy, but I just want to be a part of something bigger than me. From the look of things so far, though, this is going to be a mess.”

  Looking around the room, we noticed tons of professionals dressed to the ‘T’ for the new adventure. The premise of the program was important to them, but the organizers and funders looked like they were in a panic. The funding was already being used, but no return would be seen for a while.

  Another speaker walked up to the podium. It was the director of Grow, Leslie Marshal. He was a short man with a big attitude. He straightened his jacket and brushed his blonde comb-over once more before clearing his throat to speak.

  “Welcome, everyone! My name is Leslie Marshal. I’m sure you have heard of me!” He bowed as he spoke, his lips curling into a smile. “In case you have been living under a rock, I am the director for our new series, Grow. The network and I will be working together closely to ensure that we are providing viewers with great entertainment and a brand-new experience on Circadia. We look forward to growing Circadia our way, and watching you all work together to get it done. If anyone has any questions, we will hear them now.”

  Immediately, every hand in the room went up.

  “Whoa! I know everyone is very excited for my adventure, but let’s do this one at a time!” he exclaimed. “You there, sir, please stand up and introduce yourself. Then you can ask your question.” He pointed at the man sitting near the front.

  A slender young man stood up from his table and slicked his suit. After clearing his throat, he said, “My name is Ronald Walsey. I am an architect. I specialize in building rudimentary housing from available resources, most recently fifteen-hundred and sixty houses in East Africa.” His chin lifted a bit higher. “My question is, do we know what resources can be found on Circadia?” He remained standing, waiting for an answer.

  Leslie’s eyes dashed back and forth, as if looking for the answer in the oblivious crowd. “Well, I don’t think we exactly know that yet, but we are working on it! Good question. Next, please.”

  “Yes, sir. My name is Derek Naples and I am a solar engineer. I would like to know if we have a measure of the solar irradiance on the surface of Circadia yet.”

  Once again, Leslie looked around and then kicked at the ground for a bit. The room began to fill with a chaotic din of voices as everyone started to realize the director of the program had no idea what was going on, or what needed to be done.

  A large, tall man with bulging muscles and jet-black skin who was dressed in a tactical outfit quickly approached the podium. His neatly-cut hair, edged to perfection, shone in the bright overhead lights. He whispered in the director’s ear, then the two men stared each other down until Leslie finally stepped away from the podium and stood to the side.

  The tall gentleman stepped up and lifted the microphone. His voice was deep and distinctly British. “To answer previous questions, we have good intel from our telescopes and other imaging that there may be trees much like ours on Circadia. There appears to be some damage from traveling, but some seem to still be intact, and we could possibly grow more. Also, most of our scientists theorize that there will be precious metals on Circadia.” He nodded to the architect, who then took a seat, satisfied. “About the solar irradiance, we have some semblance of an idea, but we won’t know for sure until we have landed our first ship and placed a pyranometer. I believe we are working on obtaining one now and are currently working on gathering more data on the times of day and night. I am sorry I don’t have more information for you right now.” He raised a hand as though asking for forgiveness. The solar engineer nodded and took his seat.

  “Are there any more questions?” He looked around the room, then pointed to the man with thick rimmed glasses seated toward the back.

  “Hello, my name is Darcy Mayhew. I am a physician and surgeon. I have heard that the main livestock being transported to Circadia will be pigs. Is this correct?”

  The tall man’s lips pulled to one side as he leaned on the podium. “Yes, it is. Why do you ask?”

  “I ask simply because swine is a huge deal in the medical field. Insulin creation and even organ transplants are possible. I was hoping this was the primary livestock, as it will be a great resource. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I hadn’t even thought of that when they told me we were taking all these pigs into space. What a great idea!” His deep voice grew louder. “Spencer,” he looked out into the crowd and addressed a man dressed in jeans and a nice shirt, “did you realize this when you were discussing what type of livestock to introduce into Circadia? It’s excellent!”

  Spencer sat back in his chair and laughed at the large man. “Well, yeah! It’s a big deal. It’s not like we can just rush someone to the hospital or fly a transplant organ up there real quick! Pork is used in a lot of things, and baby piglets are a lot lighter than a calf and easier to support on a ship. We did some thinking, I promise.” He gave the man at the podium a playful wink.

  “For those of you who are lost, this is Spencer Manning. He is our resident livestock specialist. Great with animals, and somewhat good with people!” The large man joked then laughed.

  “Hey, you gonna introduce yourself or am I going to have to do it for you?” Spencer shot back at him, grinning.

  “Oh, yes, so sorry folks. My name is Idris York. I am the leading officer in this program and will be overseeing all the different facets of the colonization of Circadia.” He bowed his head briefly. “It’s an honor to meet every one of you. I am constantly learning something new every day, and look forward to learning more. I can’t wait to see what you all can do.” He clapped as if to applaud us.

  Everyone in the audience, including myself, stood up and applauded him. It was exciting to know that he was going to be our leader. He seemed both knowledgeable and humble. What a relief that someone other than Leslie stood up.

  A sigh of relief could be heard throughout the room as he spoke again. “I promise we will have more answers next time. We will be meeting with you and your respective teams to gather information, share details about available resources, and determine what else you will need. Before you leave, be sure to check the sheet posted just outside the door to see which team you’re on and who your team members are. Next to each team name is a date and time. That is when your next meeting will be; same location as now. For tonight, I think we are finished. Yes?” He looked at Leslie, who waved dismissively. “Yeah. Enjoy the meal we’ve provided, get to know your new colleagues, and have a good time. The real work will start soon!”

  Chapter Three

  The food was gone before the film crew introductions were finished. We all finished socializing rather quickly since most of us were anxious to find out which team we were assigned to and who our teammates were. We made our way to the bulletin board in droves, like high school kids anxious to see who made the cast list for the yearly play. Quickly scanning the shee
ts of paper for my name, I finally found it on the third page.

  Team 11: Agricultural

  Spencer Manning

  Aella Toms

  Jane Barnes

  Garrett Wells

  Smith Greene

  A few of the names jumped out at me. Jane shook my shoulders, yelling, “We’re on the same team! Isn’t that great? Not what I expected, but I’m excited! We’re going to be a great team!”

  I smiled slightly and resumed studying the names.

  When I returned to my hotel room, I typed the names into the search engine on my laptop and began my research. First on the list was Spencer Manning. Spencer was a livestock specialist, the man you would call in if your farm was failing. He would fix it for you and make your farm sustainable. He even had his own company name, Sustain Still. Obviously when Grow recruited him, they had sustainability on Circadia in mind. I assumed we would be working closely together as I was crops and he was livestock. The two always seemed to go hand-in-hand.

  Jane and I were next on the list. I felt like I knew enough about her after our lengthy conversation earlier in the evening while the camera and production crews introduced themselves. We’d grown bored with their spiels, so we’d talked instead.

  Scrolling down past my name, I came to Garrett Wells. Once I typed his name in, the picture that populated in the search bar made me want to vomit. The dark tousled hair, the long nose, the baby face—all of it appalling. I was instantly shaking with anger. It was the man who had sat behind me at the meeting, the one who called me a ‘farmer.’ The outspoken prick was going to be on my team. I was not happy about that, but it was going to have to work. Looking further into my search, I was reminded that he was a lunar astronomer. Why we needed one on our team, I had no idea. What were they thinking, hiring him? Quickly finding that he was only one of seven of that type of expert in his field, it made sense. It also probably had a lot to do with his arrogance.

  Next up was Smith Greene, a biotechnologist. Seeming to be a jack-of-all-trades, he was constantly finding out how living organisms could improve current technology or ways of living. His most recent research for the government involved creating fuels from bacteria. An interesting person to have on the team. I assumed I would learn a lot from him and was excited to meet the man.

  The team was an interesting mix, for sure. An agronomist, an explosives engineer, a lunar astronomist, a livestock specialist, and a biotechnologist. Together, we represented a lot of diverse yet similar knowledge. I had never really been a team player, but I was intrigued.

  I closed my computer and crawled into bed. Winter was much more tolerable in Cali, but it was still nice to curl up under a warm duvet after a long day. I wondered what the weather would be like on Circadia. I also wondered what my bed would be like, and what I would be allowed to bring. Looking out the window, I could see Circadia’s looming shadow as I slowly drifted to sleep. I dreamt about the strange planet all night.

  THE DAYS DRAGGED ON and on as I waited for the next meeting. I finished up a few things with my current job working for a massive wheat production company. They were sad to hear I would be gone, but understood the adventure and excitement of starting a new world on Circadia. All of my co-workers wished me luck and bid me goodbye over a conference call. It wasn’t the way that I would have preferred to do things, but I didn’t have much choice.

  Once everything at work was finished, I had the chance to feel a bit of freedom for once. I was in California with nowhere to be. I used the time to gather my thoughts. The whole situation had been rushed, and I hadn’t even had time to take it all in. I was leaving the planet! It was a bittersweet feeling. Excitement coursed through my veins, but an aching in my chest indicated that I already missed it.

  Knowing the meeting was in three days, and that I would be leaving soon, the decision of how to spend my remaining few days was easy. I wanted to connect with nature in a way I hadn’t in a long time. Hiking the local trails just seemed like the thing to do, and what better place to do that than in California?

  EACH DAY I WENT OUT hiking, I chose a different trail. I was amazed by how much different everything seemed now that I wasn’t working, and was about to leave everything behind. Every blade of grass, every leaf, every rock seemed more colorful. Every chirp from a bird was music to my ears. The trickling sound of the stream by the path was soothing and safe. Everything was beautiful, and familiar. I immersed myself completely in the wild, sitting beside the trail every mile or so to take it all in.

  It made me realize the true beauty of our planet. Everyone was so anxious to see this new world, and so was I, but here on Earth, no one took the time to enjoy all it had to offer. They only complained about what they were lacking. And while I couldn’t wait to leave for Circadia, I knew in my heart that I would be ready to come home as soon as I got there.

  Thursday came fast, and suddenly it was an hour before our meeting. I decided to get a fresh smoothie from the local juice shop around the corner from my hotel before heading to the facility. It was the best smoothie I’d ever had, and the quickest I’d ever seen one made. It didn’t take as long as I had planned for, so I still got to the meeting place early. Deciding to go inside while sipping my treat, I waved goodbye to the driver and started walking to the entrance.

  A man parallel to me was walking up to the door at the same time. “Hello!” He waved from across the parking lot as we drew closer. “Are you on the ‘ag’ team?”

  “Yeah. Hey, I’m Aella Toms. I’m the agronomist. Who are you? I’m dying to meet everyone!”

  “Yeah, same here. I’m Smith Greene, the biotechnologist.” He reached out and we shook hands before he opened the door to the facility for me, and we both walked inside.

  The echo of the leading officer’s voice could be heard throughout the high ceilings of the place. Walking through the doorway and around the corner, we saw him sitting with Spencer Manning. The two turned to us as we walked in, our footsteps on the tile alerting them to our presence.

  “Hey guys! How’s it going? Great to see you!” Spencer gave us a pseudo salute. He gave the impression of being a surfer dude and a cowboy all at the same time. His long, blonde hair curled at the ends and was topped with his cowboy hat. A strange contrast that made for an interesting character. “It’s a bit nippy out there now, isn’t it?” he asked as both Smith and I shook his hand, then the officer’s.

  “It’s really nice to meet you, Captain Idris,” I said as I shook his hand.

  “You don’t have to call me that. Call me Idris! It works!” He laughed loudly. “It’s just easier that way, though I’ve always wanted to be some crazy space captain, so it would make me very happy.”

  “No problem!” I laughed with him.

  “Let me just say,” he said, backing away from the group to address all of us, “I am so happy that you were all put on a team together. I think we have some very intelligent individuals here, and I think we are going to make a huge difference together. Everyone thinks agriculture isn’t important, but you will be feeding and providing for every single person on Circadia. There is not a single department or team that will not be impacted by your work. I want you all to remember that.”

  We heard the front door swing open and then slam shut. Spinning around, we all saw Garrett. “Why am I on the agricultural team? I have no idea! Doesn’t make one ounce of sense, but here I am!” he yelled loudly. The ceiling echoed every word. “Officer Idris, can you shed some light on why I will be working with these idiots, please?” he demanded, his eyes rolling.

  Everyone stood silent and watched as he walked further into the room, ranting. “Well? Can you?” he yelled at Idris.

  Idris stood quietly and waited. Garrett strolled over to Idris, swinging his arms this way and that, until he stood just a foot away from him. “Did you hear me, old man?” he asked. “Get me off this fucking shitty team, or I’ll quit. It makes no sense for me to be a part of this team.” Stepping closer to Idris, now only an inch from h
is face, he whispered, “Get it?”

  Idris stood quietly as Garrett spoke again. “I came here to learn and experience something other people will never get to, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to do it with these assholes. Especially you, leader of all,” he said pointedly to Idris.

  Idris didn’t waste another second. Stepping back with one leg, he swung his fist to meet Garrett’s face. Garrett dropped instantly, moaning and holding his face. He continued to lay there for quite some time, obviously trying to stifle his tears.

  “Is that the guy who sat behind you at the last meeting, Aella?” a small voice asked. Looking up, I recognized Jane. She stood over Garrett with no emotion, just pointing her small manicured finger down at his writhing body.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “Looks like he fucking got what he deserved then, huh?” she commented casually as she laid her pink jacket over one of the nearby chairs and took a seat.

  Idris brushed his jacket off and stepped back quietly. Garrett’s moaning quieted to a hushed whimper before he sat up. “If you are quite done, Mr. Wells, I would like to continue this meeting, with or without you. Either way is completely fine with me,” Idris said.

  Garrett stood up, holding his face, and grabbed a chair.

  Chapter Four

  We situated ourselves in front of the small stage where Idris sat, his legs dangling beneath him. We were quiet when he spoke, out of respect. He spoke with dignity and a reciprocated respect for us.

  “Now listen, I know that the network and the director have no idea what is going on. They are the money funding this, though, so we have to comply with them if we are going to do anything worthwhile. I want you all to understand exactly what is going to be happening, and be prepared for it,” he said quietly. “The producers want drama and sex. It sells. They have very little interest in the science of what will be happening. I assume that is why Mr. Garrett Wells was put on this team.” Garrett sat up in his chair and lifted his chin. Idris continued, “We can’t let them win. We let them film whatever they like because we have to, then we do the real work.”