THE DWARVES OF CERES (standard:science fiction, 2066 words)
Author: Danny Raven	Added: Jul 29 2004	Views/Reads: 3717/2415	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Sam Harding is a farmer and has come to the planet Ceres to grow his crops. He thinks he's alone....he's not.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

and afforded an excellent view of the fields. They looked good and Sam 
was tempted to start work right away but he felt tired after the 
journey from Earth. Tomorrow he would start working them. As he ate his 
sandwich, he thought of how he would till the soil, plant the seeds and 
then tend the crops while they grew. Then the harvest. The fields would 
give him a good harvest. “Yes sir, a good harvest,” he said aloud. He 
stretched and yawned. Having finished his sandwich, he went through to 
the kitchen and took a bottle of beer from the fridge. Not bothering 
with a glass, he made his way upstairs to bed. 

III 

He was in the fields early next day. The automatic plougher was already
half-way across the first field, leaving neat lines of furrowed soil 
behind it.Sam was sitting on the grass under a large oak tree, smoking 
his pipe and watching as the plougher traversed the field in the 
pattern he had set it for that morning. Another hour  or so and it 
would be finished then, unaided, it would move into the second field 
where it would continue its process of furrowing. After that, it would 
move on to the third and fourth fields. Sam was a happy man. He settled 
himself against the oak tree and watched the plougher rhythmically 
moving back and forth. He glanced up at Ceres' first sun and felt the 
rays warming his face. A slight breeze wafted away his pipe smoke. 
‘Should be through ploughing here by the time the sun's overhead,' he 
thought. Then he could start sowing. A smile spread across his face. 
Sowing was the part he liked best. He leaned his head back against the 
oak tree and dozed. 

Sam woke to the sound of the plougher moving over to the second field.
He stood up and stretched then picked up the bag of seed which had been 
lying by his side. He slipped the strap over his head and tied the two 
cords behind his back so the bag rested against his waist. He strolled 
along the side of the field until he came to the start of the furrowed 
rows. The rows were interrupted occasionally by a narrow grass path. 
Sam stepped on to the first path and put his hand into the bag and 
withdrew a handful of seed. Moving his arm in a wide arc, he scattered 
the seed over the ploughed soil. He strolled along at an even pace, 
scattering seed to left and right with both hands. This was the part 
Sam liked best – sowing the seed, the way he had read farmers sowed 
their crops thousands of years ago and although it was wasteful, all 
his harvests were successful so the Commissioners back on Earth didn't 
complain. Sam chuckled to himself as he strolled along, scattering – if 
they could see him now, walking along like this, seed being wasted, 
while the expensive automatic seed-implanter lay unused in the hanger ! 
 Still, they were millions of miles away and he was here. They'd never 
know. He was still chuckling, lost in his rhythm, when he reached the 
end of the path. He moved along the field until he came to the next 
path. His measured scattering resumed. 

The second sun was rising as Sam finished sowing. He felt tired and
hungry. He had sown the first two fields. “Dinner time,” he said to 
himself.  “Then a nap, then finish the last two fields. Should be 
through before the second sun goes down.”  Laying his bag on the grass, 
he made his way back to the farmhouse. 

IV 

Sam was in the Control Room. He had finished the sowing and the plougher
was back in the hanger. Although it was still light outside, the day 
was almost through and Sam was tired. All that remained of today's work 
was to set up the controlled climate cycle. Sam had already decided on 
a cycle which would allow him to harvest in two weeks :   2 days of 
light rain showers to vitalise the soil, 4 days of uninterrupted 
sunshine to encourage growth, 4 days of vitamin showers to feed the 
growing crops, 3 more days of sunshine then harvest at the end of the 
second week. Sam turned on the main computer and yawned as he waited 
for the monitor flickering to life. He sat down in front of the 
keyboard and fed in the programme. He could hear the light rain 
starting to fall as he climbed the stairs to bed. 

V 

It was the beginning of the second week of the cycle. The crops were
about half-way towards maturity. Sam stood at the edge of the field, 
watching them swaying to and fro in the afternoon breeze. He strolled 
along until he came to one of the narrow grass paths between the 
swaying rows, one of the paths where a week earlier he'd scattered the 
seed. He strolled along the path, stopping here and there to to check 
the crops. He was satisfied – they were coming on fine. He knelt and 
examined one of the growths. A strong green stalk grew from the ground 
and supported the main body of the crop. Sam ran his hand over the 
stalk and marvelled at it's thickness – it was through this that all 
nourishment passed to the small dwarf-like human, which was growing on 
the stalk, attached at the navel. Sam reached out and touched one of 
the dwarf's tiny hands with his finger – it's fingers slowly curled 
round his. Sam grinned. ‘Almost alive,' he thought. He examined the 
torso, the legs and the arms. All were perfect. The small, finely 
shaped head moved slowly in the breeze. Sam gently touched the eyes but 
there was no movement there yet – they would open in a few more days, 
as he had planned it, in time for harvesting. Sam stood up and brushed 
the soil from his trousers. ‘Perfect,' he thought, looking down at the 
dwarf. He looked over the field with its sea of dwarves, swaying 
backwards and forwards on their stalks in the gentle breeze. ‘Whole 
field looks perfect,' he thought. Sam was pleased with his work. He 
would inspect the other fields before his afternoon nap. 

VI 

The day's work done, Sam was sitting on the rocking chair on the porch,
slowly rocking himself back and forth. He was content. He puffed on his 
pipe,  releasing small wisps of smoke, which were borne away on the 
soft breeze. ‘Should be a good harvest,' he thought. ‘One hundred of 
the dwarves to a field...four fields...that'll be four hundred of them. 
Say five harvests before the Transporters arrive...that'll be two 
thousand of the dwarves !' From Ceres, they would be transported to 
Earth. From Earth, they would be sold to other planets as workers and 
as there was a big demand for the Dwarves of Ceres, the price would be 
high. ‘Yup, a good harvest,' thought Sam. They would be pleased with 
him back on Earth. Might even let him come here more often. Might even 
let him stay for good one day. “Wouldn't mind that at all !” Sam said 
aloud, grinning and rocking back and forth. “Nope, wouldn't mind that 
one little bit !” 


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