Paul Collins - Earthborn The

Lucida sniffed loudly. "We don't want you to go—"

Sarah pulled Lucida to her and held her firmly. Lucida closed her eyes. "The family needs new blood.

And you guys are it. You'll need a firm hand to control things. And I want each of you to promise me that you'll stand by one another."

"We will," they said as one.

Sarah held up her journal. "I'm entrusting Con with this," she said. It'll keep him out of harm's way, and make him feel equally important. "In it are a great many things, chief among which is our history."

She gave a self-conscious shrug. "I've written down a lot of herb lore and stuff that shouldn't be lost with my passing."

Ceremoniously she passed the journal to Con. "I know you'll look after it, Con. It's important that you do, and the person next in line, and the person after that."

"I will," Con said humbly. "You know that I will." He held the almost legendary book reverently.

It was during the ensuing awed silence that Sarah took her leave.

The next morning she was gone. Gillian was the first to sound the alarm. The entire family spent the best part of the morning scouring the neighboring forest for her, but it was useless.

"Just like that," Gillian cried against Welkin's shoulder. "She didn't even say good-bye."

"She did. Last night," Welkin soothed. He wasn't ashamed to admit he'd wept bitter tears that morning while searching for Sarah. It was hopeless, of course. After all, it was Sarah who had trained him to track, and the pupil wasn't likely to best the master, especially thisone. And no amount of knowledge in the journal equaled the real thing.

"You know, animals go off to die. I read that," Gillian sniffed. "They're too proud to die in public, so they find some secluded spot and die peacefully."

"That sounds like Sarah," Welkin said quietly.

"Bloody Bruick," Gillian said and her eyes narrowed as resentment welled up inside her. Cancer hadn't got him! She bit her lip at the thought. But there were no whys when someone died.

Welkin gazed forlornly into the surrounding woods. An unfamiliar lump kept lodging in his throat. He'd never felt this bad before, not even when his mother had died.

Lucida stormed into the room then, her face flushed with excitement. "Guess what?" She stopped and looked at them both. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"It's all right," Welkin said.

"Look, we just heard news over the radio that there's been a mutiny on board Colony!"

"What?" Welkin exclaimed, disentangling himself from Gillian.

Gillian rushed forward and grabbed Lucida by the shoulders. "Is it open? Can we go down there and—"

Lucida held her hands up. "Hey, it's never going to be as simple as that," she said flatly.

"So what's the excitement about a mutiny?" Gillian demanded.

Lucida looked openmouthed to Welkin then back to Gillian. "You don't understand—"

Welkin took over. "A mutiny would be a terrible shock, it might even destroy Colony's social fabric. It wouldn't be lost on the Skyborn that this is the second mutiny, that the first happened a hundred and fifty years ago. It's possible everybody now knows Earth isn't a lethal planet full of bloodthirsty savages and

bacteria. That could change things in a big way."

"With enough luck, a rebel group could decode the city's defense shields and sensors and slip out under the cover of night."

"So what?" Gillian asked. "It just means there's another gang out there."

"Not necessarily," Welkin said.

"Where would they go?" Lucida pondered. "Somewhere Colony wouldn't follow, a place where there were no families to worry about. An Eden away from anyone or anything that might threaten them."

"You're not suggesting we go looking for them?" Gillian said. "They could've gone anywhere."

"Especially if they escaped with shuttle craft or cruisers," Welkin admitted.

"Who sent this information, anyway?" Gillian asked, suddenly suspicious.

"It came from Striker One. They've been pretty accurate in the past. There's something else," Lucida added.

Something in her voice made both Gillian and Welkin go very still.

"Rumor says that since Colony landed, the jabbers have the answer to longevity."

A stab of alarm flared in Welkin, then died. "That's not possible," he said. "Bruick just couldn't—"

"Not unless Sarah was right all along," Gillian said ruminatively. "Remember she was always saying he had something up his sleeve. An edge."

"It could explain why Colony leaves Bruick's Stockade alone," Welkin added. "There was always talk of the labs developing a longevity drug."

"But what does Bruick do for them?" Lucida wondered.

"He spies on us—" Gillian began.

"No." Welkin shook his head. "Colony can keep track of us without his help."

"Colony just wants to lure him into a false sense of security. Divide and conquer, like Sarah said.

Once they've finished us off, they'll know where to find his little nest of nasties," Lucida said.

"I think he'd be more valuable to them than that," Welkin said. "But idle speculation isn't going to help us. What we do know is that once the rest of the family gets to know this, most of them will go over to him, and why wouldn't they? To have their lives extended threefold would be enough to tempt almost anyone."

"It wouldn't be long before the entire united family would be over there in the Stockade," Gillian realized.

"One big, easy target," Welkin added.

"And the only reason Bruick hasn't let this out already is that Colony is dishing out only enough for his inner circle." It was easy to fill in the gaps. And it didn't take Gillian long to make up her mind on a course of action.

"I'm going to pay Bruick a visit," she said firmly. "Find out if there's truth in any of this."

"You can't do that," Welkin said with less authority than he intended. "You're Committee. You'll wreck everything that Sarah worked for if word gets out you've gone there."

All expression left Gillian's face, all except a brief glint in her eyes that Welkin caught fleetingly. "Don't tell me what to do, Welkin."

"You'll never make it alone," Lucida said tightly. "And we can't afford to lose you."

"I'm going," Gillian persisted. "We can't let Bruick hold a trump card like this," she added defiantly.

"He'll make sure there's never enough to go around. Only his favorite cronies will get longevity. The rest of them will be his playthings, relying on his generosity just to live past eighteen." Her eyes blazed.

"There'll always be more of them begging for his favors, doing whatever murderous acts he wants just to get a hold of that drug."

Lucida was shocked at Gillian's venomous outburst.

"I'm not going to live in Sarah's shadow," Gillian added. She swept past them, heading for the door.

"Even if you destroy Bruick's supplies, what makes you think he can't get more?" Welkin asked.

"Bruick won't be around," she said ominously.

Lucida joined Welkin by the door and watched Gillian lope off down the track. They were still standing there some time later when a speck of rain splattered against the dusty veranda.

They went back inside and closed the door against the rain that was soon drumming on the corrugated iron roof.

"I'll have to go after her," Welkin said, watching the sheet of rain through a grimy window.

"Then you'd better get a good night's sleep," Lucida said, stoking a fire. "You'll need it."

Gillian joined a small family as they wound their way down Yarra Spring. They had been the first to answer Sarah's invitation; they had recently visited Sarah's family a second time and were now heading back home after a successful bartering.