Paul Collins - Earthborn The

It took them half an hour to work their way across the broken ground and reach Sarah's destination.

More than once Welkin tripped and tore jagged holes in his suit. Each new hole brought a cry of dismay to his lips—until he remembered he was already contaminated. He would never be allowed back on board Colony, even if the shield came down.

Sarah lay motionless, then poked her head up before quickly brushing away some loose rubble and unlocking a sewer grate. She paused and considered Welkin. "Now it's dark down there. They're Telstra's old communication underground service tunnels, but we have lights farther on. Close your eyes if you like. Makes no difference to me." She thought for a moment. "And the air levels aren't so good."

When Welkin made no effort to move she grabbed him by the shoulder and almost threw him into the opening. This time, however, he was prepared. He blocked her arms and they clenched. Their faces clashed, hers like hardened leather, his soft and yielding. She couldn't budge him.

"You're a tough'n," she hissed between clenched teeth, angling for better purchase.

He struggled with her and they remained locked. "We're stronger than Earthborn," he said tightly. Her stranglehold about his neck was nearly suffocating him. He, in turn, squeezed harder.

But for his youth, Sarah admitted to herself, he would best her. "Okay. Stalemate." She took a gamble and released him.

He pulled his arms back quickly and they both sat there, panting and glaring at one another.

"What is it with you?" she said. "A new super race like Hitler envisaged? Genetics gone wrong?

What?"

He took several big breaths before answering. Earth oxygen was going to take some getting used to.

And he could still only half guess her questions. "Colony had one-point-five g."

Sarah nodded in sudden comprehension. "So you were raised in a false gravitational field—half again that of Earth. Just in case Tau Ceti III was more massive than Earth."

"It's always been that way," Welkin said.

"Apparently," Sarah nodded. "Okay, Superman. What's your problem with going down there?"

He hesitated. "Why should I trust you?"

"I saved your life back there. Another minute and the ferals would have found you."

"I don't want to. It stinks. I'll die!"

"It's easier to die up here," Sarah said. She smiled a yellowed-teeth smile.

An eerie keening noise broke out a hundred yards behind them. A similar noise answered, this time from up ahead. Her expression hardened. "We don't have time to argue. I'm taking a risk bringing you along. Some of my people won't like it. Come with me and I'll protect you. Stay here and die. Your choice, Skyborn."

That said, she dropped into the gaping hole.

Welkin clung to the metal rungs. They felt grimy and disease-ridden, just like the fungus-covered walls. He had never seen such filth before. Did the degenerates who lived here ever get used to it?

Would he? Maybe he was becoming a lower decker? The thought made him shiver.

Sarah touched ground and craned her neck. She could see the Skyborn kid staring incredulously at his hands. "Welcome home," she said. "A bit of dirt's not going to harm you, you know." She couldn't keep a slight sneering tone out of her voice.

As she expected, he stiffened. She was learning exactly which buttons to push.

Welkin glanced up at the war-torn rubble they had just crossed. He could flee back to Colony and throw himself on their mercy. Surely they would understand how his team had been ambushed.

Indecision warred inside him. Maybe not a good idea. The elders had thrown them out here in the first place. Besides, darkness was falling fast— a giant black thing with wings outstretched, shrouding the sky with its enormity.

His jaw tightened. He wanted so badly to hit someone, something. It was all so unfair! He hadn't done anything wrong! He suddenly remembered the vid Elder Tobias had shown them the night Harry was taken. The boy from the lower decks who had been tortured for information. He had also said it was

"unfair." But that didn't makeany sense. The boy was a lower decker. That was how life was for a degenerate.

The rungs at his feet gave a metallic ting! and he realized Sarah had struck the ladder with something.

Time to choose. Go down or stay up? He'd been thrown into an alien scenario with no rules, no safety nets, and no abort button. To survive, he'd need an edge. That advantage he'd always had in the simulators, simply because the faster your reactions and the more you used them, the better you became.

But this was the real thing.

He had a sense that his presence among the Earthborn could make a difference; just exactly what, at this stage, he couldn't work out. But he knew with a dread certainty that his return to Colony would not make the slightest difference to anyone but his sister, If she was still alive . . .

Welkin swallowed hard. Out here on the surface of an unruly planet he was like a fish out of water.

Well, what did Elder Tobias always used to say? If a fish can't swim, it better grow legs damn fast! And that was what he would do. Grow legs. But to do that he needed help. He needed an Earthborn! He needed Sarah.

Ting! Ting! Ting! Ting!

With his eyes screwed shut he descended until his feet touched solid ground.

"Took your sweet time!"

He felt Sarah beside him. Cautiously he opened his eyes. The light was dim and came from small bulbs hanging from a wire tacked onto the ceiling. The track of light wound its way down the darkening tunnel like cats' eyes. Cobwebs laden with scurrying spiders and husks of insects hung from the ceiling in gauzy hammocks.

Sarah looked back up at the vent they had come through, then studied Welkin. "Okay. We have to get a few things straight. So we know where we stand. You comprehend everything I'm saying, don't you? Just speak up if something's unclear. Misunderstandings get people killed around here."

Welkin gave a helpless shrug. "I understand most of the time."

"Good. For a moment I figured we were going to have communication problems."

"Colony will come looking for me," he said, suddenly defiant. He hated the way she sounded so

authoritative. So much in command. She was nothing but a heathen—probably not more than one generation from a cannibal!

"Not after dark they won't," she said knowledgeably. "We've been watching your craft, see. Since the dust settled, anyway. Besides, if they'd wanted you back they had plenty of time when we were out in the open."

"Maybe you didn't come up on the scanners," Welkin said. Otherwise the elders wouldn't have sent us out here! There was too much to think about. How had they remained undetected?

"We could've been watching from a long way off," hedged Sarah. "Or maybe we know this place like the back of our hands and no amount of technology is as good as experience. Either way, we've decided you people don't like the dark. My guess is that you've been in space so long the lights have always been on. The only darkness was in space. Right?"

"Perhaps," Welkin said uneasily. Only nightmares contained the dark. "Are you going to kill me?

We've heard—"

"Whatever you heard you can forget. Some turned cannibal. Mostly ferals." She gritted her teeth at some thought, then voiced it. "There'll be campfires tonight. A feast."

"Colony people," Welkin heard himself whisper. His eyes widened with alarm.

Sarah's steady gaze met his. "I lost two friends the other day. You learn to take death in your stride. I would've liked to have buried your people before the ferals got to them." She stopped abruptly. "But it's not worth the bother anyway. Ferals dig 'em up, see. We're not like that."