Paul Collins - Earthborn The

On the second day, as they sat inside the shell of their makeshift shelter, Zedda suddenly sneezed.

"Oh no!" she squealed. "I think I've caught something!"

Con turned about and grinned. "It's called hay fever. Change of season—it's the pollens in the air."

"Are you sure?" Zedda wiped a cuff across her nose. "It's making my nose tingle."

Con laughed when he saw her eyes. They were red and puffy from irritation. "The way you Skyborn look right now!" he hooted. "Believe me—sneezing's going to be the least of your worries on Earth."

"Just blow your nose, Zedda," Sarah said kindly, passing a piece of cloth from a pocket of her utilities.

"Try not to rub your eyes. You'll get your revenge when Con catches his next cold. He'll look like death warmed up."

"Not me," Con said merrily and started whistling tunelessly.

It took another day for Sarah's fever to break and several more before Con decided it was safe to move on.

"Since when do you give the orders?" Sarah gruffly asked one morning.

Con shook his head. "I don't. I'm just doing what I know you'd want us to do."

"You're right," she softened. "And I think it's time we all assessed the situation." She turned and faced the Colony refugees. They had made a decision while she recovered. "So you're going back there?" she asked resignedly. "And there's no way I can talk you out of it?"

"It's something we have to do," Elab said. "Your plan to rebuildthings is wonderful, but it needs people to make it work, trained people. Well, there are other gangs still on Colony's, lower decks. We didn't have time to contact them. So we're going to do our bit." He looked to Harry, who nodded confirmation.

Sarah wasn't surprised. Since she had been delirious, the Colony kids had begun holding secret meetings. No doubt, Sarah believed, questioning the wisdom of them throwing in their lot with the Earth-born. She didn't think much of their chances back on Colony, but what could she do? Sarah knew it was best for them to go their own way, whatever the risk. There was only one fly in the ointment and she fretted about it alone.

"With the supplies you've provided from Colony, we can make a go of it," Harry said.

Sarah gratefully and gently patted her chest. "I wouldn't have made it without your medic's help."

Efi poked at her shirt pocket. "Paid in kind. Efhoristo —thanks, for the sunglasses." She smiled.

"It's a small price to pay for what you've given us," Sarah said. Then, turning to Welkin and Lucida, she said, "You two going or staying?"

"Someone has to look after you Earthborn," Welkin said. Sarah snorted.

"I've been putting a lot of thought into your transceiver needs," added Lucida.

"Yeah?" Sarah barely held back a cry of exultation.

"Well, you'll need an oscillator, a crystal that gives you a signal at a certain frequency, an amplifier, and a tuned circuit to generate a signal from your microphone—you do have a microphone, don't you?"

Sarah laughed. "We'll dig one up."

"Then there're shielded cables to connect things up, like your antenna—what do you have for an antenna?"

"We've got a satellite dish from a wrecked carrier. We've got it stashed down in the valley; shouldn't be too hard to retrieve."

"You'd better let me look at it before transporting it," commented Lucida. "Besides, there might be other equipment we can salvage. Preamplifiers and boosters—there might even be gearing to steer thedish—" Sarah raised her hand to interrupt her but Lucida was in full glow. "Oh! A signal analyzer to see which bits of junk are still working." She frowned. "No, you probably wouldn't have one of those.

But it doesn't matter! Most of all we need power to run it."

"Really?" Sarah queried in mock amazement.

"Of course you—" suddenly Lucida grinned. "You're joking. Right?"

Everyone laughed.

"Yeah, I am," Sarah admitted. "Anyway, we've got sheets of solar cells and rechargeable batteries.

You'll have to adapt them to make electrical gear work. We've tried in the past, but it either just sits there and does nothing or it starts to smoke."

Lucida nodded knowingly. "That's because you need to know what the voltage rating is, and which leads are electrical input. Hook power up to the antenna bit and you'll overheat the circuit. Transformers can change the power supply to a rating we can use."

Sarah looked at Con. "Transformers?"

Con looked nonplussed.

"Most of your old equipment had transformers, didn't it?" Welkin guessed.

"Has" Lucida reminded him with suppressed laughter. "Their equipment has transformers."

"Hey, sorry," Welkin apologized. "Transformers and satellite dishes are . . . are archaic."

"Welcome to the past," Sarah said, not unkindly.

"Anyway," Lucida went on, breaking a brief silence, "we can make a transformer. I've read about them," she explained when Welkin looked surprised. "Sure, they're just metal blocks with wire wound around a central core. We can make a transformer—or a transceiver would be better! A transceiver and receiver all in one."

"No point in talking if you can't hear the reply, right?" Sarah said.

"Of course," Lucida agreed.

"That's us occupied for the next few months," Sarah said. She looked out across the mist-shrouded valley to where Melbourne brooded helplessly like some crippled giant. You could vaguely make out the tall derelict office blocks in the city center. "The rest of youwill have to be careful back there. Pedros and Green are on the loose, too. It's not safe," she reflected.

Harry looked about him. He and Elab had a team of twelve besides themselves. Veterans of the lower decks.

"We'll take our chances. And hey, when you get the transceiver working, contact Colony —we'll listen for you on 121.5 megahertz." He smiled. "We might even answer you."

"That's a date," Welkin said.

But something in Welkin's voice betrayed his thoughts. He didn't expect it to be that easy . . .

Sarah stood back to admire her handiwork. The next moment the ground seemed to be rising up to meet her.

"Sarah!" Before she could topple, hands steadied her. She refocused her eyes, and two versions of Lucida swam before her.

"Sarah? You all right?"

"Of course. Just let me rest a tad."

Lucida sat her down on a tree stump. "You look a bit pale," she said. She felt Sarah's forehead. "And hot. You're running a fever. You should rest. You've been working yourself too hard."

Sarah squeezed Lucida's hand. "You must promise not to tell anyone about this. They'll worry."

"I'm worried!" Lucida sat back. "It's the wasting disease, isn't it?"

Sarah wiped perspiration from her face. "I don't think so. I've just been feeling out of sorts lately. It's

nothing."

"If it's nothing serious you must tell the others. Gillian at least should know! Maybe she knows of an herb—"

Sarah brushed her objections aside. "Forget it. I'm fine now. It's passed." She stood up slowly. "What do you think of my new invention?"

Lucida looked unhappily at a wooden contraption. "So this is the big secret. What is it?"

Sarah looked over her shoulder and beckoned Lucida forward. "We've been sleeping out in the wind and cold for the past month, yeah? If Budge lets off one more protracted sneeze I'll scream."

Lucida stifled a nervous laugh. "I think he's doing that to annoy you. He's working on a song called

'The Stutter Sneeze.' I can't tell you how funny it is. It's weird—he can sing it reasonably okay without stuttering, but when he speaks it, he stutters."

Sarah smiled. "He's a riot, all right. Maybe he should sing when he speaks?"

"Zedda was teaching him to stop stuttering. He was going fine until she left. Apparently, it's all to do with concentration, breathing, and confidence. If Zedda comes back ..."