Paul Collins - Earthborn The

"That's him, all right," the colonist said. "Promised us safe conduct up north in return for more supplies.

When he found out we couldn't supply him with more Lurisdicton—a longevity drug—he set us up.

Slaughtered everyone." "Except you and your partner."

The colonist shook his head. "He's out back. They got him, too." "Now listen," Elab said. "Listen carefully. I'm not one of them. None of my people are. We're from up in the Dandenongs—" "They're heathens, too!"

"So you've been told," Elab said. He rubbed at his leg to ease a little circulation into it. "We've been fighting Bruick since we landed."

"You're lying," the colonist said. "Everyone knows he's a colonist rebel."

"He's Earthborn," Elab snapped.

"He's older than you! That makes him a colonist rebel!" "There're pure genetic strains here, untouched by the aging disease!" Elab said angrily. "Understand that if nothing else. We had a leader called Sarah who was older than me. Some of them don't age like the rest. Doesn't mean they're all colonists. And besides, if you're one of the mutineers, don't call me and mine traitors."

The colonist scowled. "We're pacifists. We haven't killed anyone. We're nothing like you and the other lower deckers. Don't you dare —"

Movement outside made them both duck into the shadows. Elab knew that the colonist's laserlite was still directed at his chest.

He swallowed hard. This was going to be a tough call. The colonist was going to fry whatever walked into that doorway, sure as space is a vacuum. A soft footfall landed on the veranda. It came closer, then he heard someone trying to stifle heavy breathing. Could it be Zocky? Hard to tell when the person was deliberately creeping forward, closer still.

Should he scream out and warn whoever it was? Elab tensed himself for what must occur.

As though reading his thoughts, the colonist shook his head slowly. Despite himself, Elab made himself relax. No way would the colonist miss.

Numbly, Elab watched the colonist swivel the laserlite to the door. He could see the shadowy profile of whoever it was on the veranda. Friend or foe? he wondered frantically.

He tensed himself. He'd make it halfway before the colonist could respond to the new threat. Maybe.

Then the back door flew open.

The colonist was good, damn good. He took a hurried step forward, avoiding the crashing door, swung to meet his new adversary, but whoever had been on the veranda was now coming at him from

behind.

Elab uncurled from the floor. He was heading for the colonist when he realized almost too late that the huge bulk barreling into the room didn't belong to his team. He changed direction at the last moment, felt his leg wrench tightly, but kept going. His momentum carried him into the man.

They fell to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Laser fire spat into the air, briefly illuminating the room. Elab saw the pink-edged knife rise and fall. Pain seared into his waist and he let out a muffled grunt of surprise.

He managed to get hold of the knife hand, but the man's brutishstrength eased the knife swiftly to within an inch of Blab's throat. Thwack.

It took Elab a moment to realize that his adversary's body had gone limp over him. He tested his own strength, knowing with rising panic that he'd taken a cut in the side. With effort he heaved, and the man fell limply to the floor.

"Get up," the colonist said. He seemed surprised that Elab was still alive. "There are others out there.

We have to get out."

Elab felt his side. His hand came away sticky. "I'm not going anywhere," he said thickly. "I've twisted my leg again. And I've been sliced."

"Do it now" the colonist snapped. He straightened his weapon. "Go ahead and shoot," Elab said. He sat back down against the wall. "Then you'll have Bruick's people and mine onto you."

Further debate was cut short. A scuffling noise came from beyond the back door that Elab noted was still locked. "Clark?" came a suspicious voice.

The colonist pressed hard against the wall, well outside the range of the swinging door. "Yeah?" he responded quietly.

The door opened slowly, but before anyone could enter, a rapid hissing noise signaled an arrow in flight. It thudded into the man's back and he tumbled into the door. His mouth opened wide with a look of astonishment; the whites of his eyes were in stark contrast to his camouflaged face.

Elab pulled his leg out of the way as the man toppled. The arrow had lodged just left of his breastbone. Impact with the floor drove it right through his heart.

Zocky! Elab felt a wisp of hope flare within him. It died quickly enough. He flinched when the colonist retrained the laserlite on him. "Don't be a fool," he said, surprised at his own bravado. "I helped you just now—"

"You helped yourself!" the colonist hissed. "You need me to tell who's who," Elab insisted. Someone ran by outside, and they both flattened themselves against the wall. Farther afield someone shouted.

Hurried voices replied. Ballistic gunfire cracked several times but received no corresponding replies. Hard to tell, though. If Lars was still in the picture, his retaliatory laser fire would be inaudible.

"They're pulling out," Elab said. "My people wouldn't go without me."

"So you're their leader?" the colonist said hopefully.

It was then Elab realized he had the matter in hand.

"We're all in this together. Keep that in mind and things will work out."

The rebel colonist calculated swiftly. He could move only forward now. He wouldn't last the day out there in the wilderness. The heathen at his feet was his only hope. His shoulders slumped with this realization.

"It's not surrender," Elab told him, knowing the other's fear for his own. "It's a union of people."

The colonist had one second to answer before a rapid line of laserlite spat through the air and he fell to the floor.

Elab's eyes went wide, yet despite his disbelief he lunged forward and swept the colonist's laserlite from the ground. He barely made it back behind the wall before more slithers of dazzling probes blew away the doorframe.

Elab swung the weapon around the corner of the torn doorway and depressed the firing stud.

Nothing happened. He pressed frantically. The weapon was on empty, or it had been sabotaged.

Either way, Elab drew his knife and waited in the pitch black for whatever lurked beyond the doorway.

The night air was brisk. Gillian rolled over in her sleep and nudged against Welkin. She flapped her arm across his shoulder and sleepily pulled herself closer to him.

Welkin woke and smiled. He had gone to bed alone but wasn't surprised to find Gillian beside him.

She'd been having nightmares ever since her incarceration in the Stockade. It might be some time before she put those demons to rest. Until then she seemed to regard Welkin as part of her family—not the grouping that was known as the family, but something smaller, more personal. He couldn't quite make out what his relationship with Gillian was all about. They had never shared anything more physical than a kiss and a hug. Brotherly sprang to mind. Maybe she thought of him as a kind of surrogate brother, especially since the loss of Sarah.

Even after all this time, he had difficulty adjusting to the fact that the Earthborn were adults at twelve and often dead of old age at eighteen. For him to have a fulfilling life, he'd need to find someone whose life span would match his own. Maybe another Skyborn, though he looked on most of them as friends.

But maybe it didn't matter. If you loved someone, then you wanted to grow old with her, even if she grew old faster than you. And it was always possible that Gillian's genetic heritage was one of the pure strains, unaffected by the chromosomal abnormality that accelerated senescence.