Paul Collins - Earthborn The

Each in turn looked back at the settlement as they left its precincts. None had any commitment other than the survival of the family. They were the loners, and although their passing would be missed, each knew his or her place would be easily filled.

They left via well-used trails that meandered through the scrub-covered hills. From the outset Elab had allotted each a position in the team. Lars was to go forward and sniff out problems that might arise, Devan was to follow up at the rear, both Harry and Zocky were flankers, while Elab acted as backup should any problems arise.

It took several days for the team to reach the base of the mountains. Elab was pleased with their progress. Lars had been the only worry to date. Since he was up front, he'd made it plain to the others that he should determine the routes they would travel.

As it was, Elab had given the laser to Lars. He'd figured Lars was the most capable and he was leading the way, so that was fair enough.

"We follow the map," Elab said. His eyes were flint hard. He could stare anyone down in seconds. It was a trick he'd learned back in the lower decks of Colony.

Lars glared at him. Then he turned to the others. "The map's old." The last word wasn't lost on Elab or the others. "And things change, Elab. There are rivers here now that aren't on the map, for chrissake.

So you have us wade through swollen rivers rather than find alternative routes. It's crazy, guys."

"You'd rather have us go farther and farther north and wind up weeks away from where we're heading?" Elab asked. "Just so you don't get wet, Lars?"

"We got drenched last night because we were out in the open when we could've been farther west and maybe found shelter."

"Maybe," Elab acknowledged. "Maybe not." He held up his hand to silence Lars's obvious retort.

"There's good reason for following Sarah's map. Its chief purpose is to save us time. If it leads us astray every now and then, I reckon it's nothing compared to what'd happen if we went off without firm

direction."

That should have ended further discussion, but Lars still hounded Elab from time to time. "Just to keep him on his toes," he told the others when they complained of his behavior.

While Lars proved to be a minor nuisance, the others got along well with Elab. Harry had clearly put a lot of forethought into their journey. He'd brought along several strands of wire that he'd fashioned into fishhooks. He also made a couple of fishing rods with fine gut and a sapling.

"Hooray!" Zocky trilled one morning when Harry's line hauled in a wriggling mottled gray shape.

"It's only an eel," Lars said. "I'm not eating that."

"More for us," Zocky replied.

Lars sneered as they watched it thrashing in the green water, its mouth torn jagged by the makeshift hook.

Harry jerked the rod up and the eel landed squirming on the muddy bank. Zocky pounced on it and sliced off its head. She held the limp eel for all to see. "Our first kill of the season!"

Encouraged by their success, Devan and Zocky took turns sharing the other rod.

Within the hour they had snared three eels and something that looked vaguely like a trout.

"It's all fished out," Zocky announced triumphantly. She'd laid out the fillets on a large frond.

"We'll salt what we don't want right now," Elab said. "Dig in."

"Bon appetit," Devan said. When the others laughed he felt his cheeks flush. "What's the matter? Did I say it wrong?"

"You did well," Elab said through a smile and a mouthful offish. "Better get some of that trout fast—Lars reckons it's the best."

"Just don't like raw eel," Lars said moodily.

They rarely cooked anything, for fear of alerting renegades. If they'd had more time, Elab would have shown them how to cook in the ground, creating little telltale smoke, but it was simply a chance that they could not afford to take. Besides, they had all eaten worse food than raw fish.

The dense bush made for slow progress. Elab caught glimpses of the others as they filtered through the towering she-oaks and eucalypti that now studded the foothills. They'd long since given up the customary waving to one another.

Elab had forgotten how fresh and green the slopes could be once spring arrived. In winter the ghostlike white, mottled trunks of the red-spotted gums made a beautiful sight. Soon, as spring followed winter, their midgreen, lancelike leaves would start to bud. Already the various acacias were in full flower. Their pale lemon and golden blossoms bathed the slopes in a blaze of color. Elab pondered deeply on the wattle's significance, but try as he might he couldn't place it. The fact that it was the floral emblem of Australia had been forgotten by the Earthborn a generation ago.

They'd had no trouble coming down the slopes. Zocky had re-

ported three skeletons she'd found strewn around a long-dead campfire. Under other circumstances Elab might have spared time to investigate, but Zocky had assured him that whatever fate had befallen the trio, its cause was long gone.

Apart from the fish they caught Devan had been lucky enough to fell a wild boar. Devan insisted that they roast it, and his adamancy fired the others. Elab relented when he saw their anticipation of a good cooked meal and allowed them to roast it. They were out of immediate danger now, due to the coverage that the trees on the lower slope afforded them. Higher up anyone with powerful binoculars could have followed their path day by day, plotted their course, and had time to organize a welcoming committee had they been hostile.

The party encountered few fellow travelers. They would exchange polite greetings as strangers do, but since Sarah's disappearance a certain wariness had crept back into the smaller families.

As night fell Elab apologized as he kicked out the fiercely burning fire. The pig was just about cooked anyway, but they could not afford to highlight their presence. The smell alone would carry well into the night on the strong northerly wind that had picked up late that afternoon.

It was left to Lars to cut up the meat and hand out sections of it to the others. He had a skillful way with knives that sometimes worried Elab. As the dying embers of the fire lit their faces, Elab could see the

glimmering of a smile on Lars's face as he sliced through the meat with his keen blade.

That night Elab lay awake, listening to the mournful wind as it rustled through the trees. Somewhere farther afield a feral cat yowled across the valley. It was joined by another and another. If the screaming woke any of the others, they didn't show it. Probably couldn't hear it above Lars's snoring, Elab reckoned.

He looked up at the night sky and traced where he imagined the Southern Cross to be etched against infinite space. One thing for sure, he'd never be up there again. He was surprised to realize that he had no desire to travel into space again. He'd found his home here on Earth.

He wished so much that he could let the Colony people know how much the elders had deceived them. He desperately wanted them to smell the pollens in the air, feel the brisk breeze as it swept over the range grass, to know adventure and friendship. Most of all, he wanted them to know the thrill of uncertainty. That was the biggest buzz of all. To be unsure what the next day would bring.

They woke early next morning. Elab wasn't in the least surprised to see Zocky cuddled up hard against Harry. They were opposites in personality and stature, but they certainly went well together.

What did surprise Elab was the way Lars regarded the couple. He seemed to be brooding. He then saw Elab appraising him and got up. "Been a long night. Almost fell asleep a couple of times. But Jeez, it's cold."

Elab said nothing. They woke the others and, after a hurried cold pork breakfast, they set off.