Earthseed

away, her legs churning slowly as if stuck in mud.
    The morning light shocked her into wakefulness. She stumbled into the front room, where the others were already eating breakfast. Zoheret accepted a banana from Brendan and forced herself to eat it.
    The door swung open, banging against the wall, shaking the floor. Zoheret dropped her peel, unable to raise her eyes. “You,” a man’s voice said.
    “It’s Caleb,” Bonnie whispered.
    “You,” the voice said again. Zoheret lifted her head and saw a stocky, muscular man; his mustache drooped over his lip. “Come with me.”

    They walked past the shacks and skirted the field, and it was not until the man named Caleb stopped in front of a pile of posts and a cone of wire, gestured at them, and handed Zoheret a tape measure that she realized she was not going to be beaten or questioned, but only made to work.
    “So you’re not going to question me after all,” she said. “I know what you did to Manuel. What are you going to do—get some work out of me first?”
    Caleb’s pale, watery eyes widened a bit; his broad face, except for a slight flabbiness under the chin, showed few signs of age. “Ho told us you knew nothing, that you belonged to the group here and not to his group out there. Now get to work.”
    “I suppose you’ll beat me if I don’t.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. If someone misbehaves, we use discipline, that’s all. Some of you don’t seem to respond to kindness or reason. Do what you’re told and you’ll be treated fairly. This isn’t a bad job. If you behave, you’ll get others like it. If you don’t, there are more unpleasant tasks. Measure off the distance while I put up the posts.”
    “What else did Ho tell you?”
    “That isn’t your concern. Now get to work.”
    She was measuring off a span when she saw Willem coming toward them from the settlement. “Hi!” he shouted. Caleb looked up from his post. “Hi!” Willem said more tentatively, stopping as he saw Caleb’s face. “She told me to come here,” he mumbled.
    “Who did?” Caleb asked.
    “Her.” Willem pointed toward the storehouse. “To work.” His shaggy brown hair was dirty, his face unusually pale. He clutched his stomach for a moment. “It hurts.”
    “What hurts?” Zoheret asked.
    “Inside.”
    Caleb scowled. “We’ll have to do something about him,” he said to Zoheret as though Willem were not present.
    “Like what?” Zoheret reached for Willem’s arm and drew him to her side.
    “He’s not fit for life on a planet. He’ll just be in the way. He should never have been born.”
    “Willem can take care of himself.” Willem gripped her hand tightly.
    Caleb waved a hand. “He can dig.”
    Willem dug small holes for the posts while Zoheret measured spaces and strung wire; Caleb pounded in the posts with a hammer. Occasionally Willem would stop to rest; Zoheret frowned as she heard his labored breathing. They worked without speaking; Willem hummed tunelessly as he dug. After they had worked for a while, Caleb sent Willem to the storehouse for some lunch.
    Zoheret sat down to rest, drawing a glare from Caleb. “Tired already?”
    She shrugged. It was his field now; she was not about to exert herself fencing it. “You shouldn’t push Willem so much,” she said at last. “I don’t think he’s well.”
    “He’s lazy.” Caleb sat down near her.
    “How’d you get Ho to talk?” she asked after a while.
    “Listen,” he said, leaning toward her, “you just behave and you won’t get into trouble. Ho told me what you were like. You’d better change your ways. Your friend Ho isn’t stupid—you’d better follow his example.”
    She knew then that Ho had made his peace with the strangers; she should have expected that. “What did he tell you?”
    “What we needed to know. We’ll take care of his friends soon enough if they don’t give themselves up.” He peered at her closely. “Maybe we should have questioned you after all.” He looked up. “Where is that stupid boy? He’s taking long enough.”
    “What are you going to do with Willem?”
    “I’m not going to do anything. Unless he doesn’t get back here soon. I’ve had a little too much trouble with him.”
    “You said before that you were going to do something about him.”
    “Oh, that. You have unfit young people here. That wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re going to have enough troubles on a new world without burdening yourselves with cripples and retarded