all intent and absorbed by the box on Steven’s knees. Suddenly a hush fell over the children. Earl looked up slowly.
In the dim light the big stooped figure of Thomas Cole seemed extra menacing. His long arms hung down loosely at his sides. His face was lost in shadow. His body was shapeless, indistinct. A big unformed statue, standing silently a few feet away, unmoving in the half-darkness.
“Who are you?” Earl demanded, his voice low.
“What do you want?” Sally said. The children edged away nervously. “Get away.”
Cole came toward them. He bent down a little. The beam from the guide-light crossed his features. Lean, prominent nose, beak-like, faded blue eyes—
Steven scrambled to his feet, clutching the vidsender box. “You get out of here!”
“Wait.” Cole smiled crookedly at them. His voice was dry and raspy. “What do you have there?” He pointed with his long, slender fingers. “The box you’re holding.”
The children were silent. Finally Steven stirred. “It’s my inter-system vidsender.”
“Only it doesn’t work,” Sally said.
“Earl broke it.” Steven glared at his brother bitterly. “Earl threw it down and broke it.”
Cole smiled a little. He sank down wearily on the edge of the curb, sighing with relief. He had been walking too long. His body ached with fatigue. He was hungry, and tired. For a long time he sat, wiping perspiration from his neck and face, too exhausted to speak.
“Who are you?” Sally demanded, at last. “Why do you have on those funny clothes? Where did you come from?”
“Where?” Cole looked around at the children. “From a long way off. A long way.” He shook his head slowly from side to side, trying to clear it.
“What’s your therapy?” Earl said.
“My therapy?”
“What do you do? Where do you work?”
Cole took a deep breath and let it out again slowly. “I fix things. All kinds of things. Any kind.”
Earl sneered. “Nobody fixes things. When they break you throw them away.”
Cole didn’t hear him. Sudden need had roused him, getting him suddenly to his feet. “You know any work I can find?” he demanded. “Things I could do? I can fix anything. Clocks, type-writers, refrigerators, pots and pans. Leaks in the roof. I can fix anything there is.”
Steven held out his inter-system vidsender. “Fix this.”
There was silence. Slowly, Cole’s eyes focussed on the box. “That?”
“My sender. Earl broke it.”
Cole took the box slowly. He turned it over, holding it up to the light. He frowned, concentrating on it. His long, slender fingers moved carefully over the surface, exploring it.
“He’ll steal it!” Earl said suddenly.
“No.” Cole shook his head vaguely. “I’m reliable.” His sensitive fingers found the studs that held the box together. He depressed the studs, pushing them expertly in. The box opened, revealing its complex interior.
“He got it open,” Sally whispered.
“Give it back!” Steven demanded, a little frightened. He held out his hand. “I want it back.”
The three children watched Cole apprehensively. Cole fumbled in his pocket. Slowly he brought out his tiny screwdrivers and pliers. He laid them in a row beside him. He made no move to return the box.
“I want it back,” Steven said feebly.
Cole looked up. His faded blue eyes took in the sight of the three children standing before him in the gloom. “I’ll fix it for you. You said you wanted it fixed.”
“I want it back.” Steven stood on one foot, then the other, torn by doubt and indecision. “Can you really fix it? Can you make it work again?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Fix it for me, then.”
A sly smile flickered across Cole’s tired face. “Now, wait a minute. If I fix it, will you bring me something to eat? I’m not fixing it for nothing.”
“Something to eat?”
“Food. I need hot food. Maybe some coffee.”
Steven nodded. “Yes. I’ll get it for you.”
Cole relaxed. “Fine. That’s fine.” He turned his attention back to the box resting between his knees. “Then I’ll fix it for you. I’ll fix it for you good.”
His fingers flew, working and twisting, tracing down wires and relays, exploring and examining. Finding out about the inter-system vidsender. Discovering how it worked.
Steven slipped into the house through the emergency door. He made his way to the kitchen with great care, walking on tip-toe. He punched the kitchen controls at random, his heart beating excitedly. The stove began to whirr, purring into life. Meter readings came on, crossing toward the completion marks.
Presently the stove opened, sliding out a tray of steaming dishes. The mechanism clicked off, dying into silence. Steven grabbed up the contents of the tray, filling his arms. He carried everything down the hall, out the emergency door and into the yard. The yard was dark. Steven felt his way carefully along.
He managed to reach the guide-light without dropping anything at all.
Thomas Cole got slowly to his feet as Steven came into view. “Here,” Steven said. He dumped the food onto the curb, gasping for breath. “Here’s the food. Is it finished?”
Cole held out the inter-system vidsender. “It’s finished. It was pretty badly smashed.”
Earl and Sally gazed up, wide-eyed. “Does it work?” Sally asked.
“Of course not,” Earl stated. “How could it work? He couldn’t—”
“Turn it on!” Sally nudged Steven eagerly. “See if it works.”
Steven was holding the box under the light, examining the switches. He clicked the main switch on. The indicator light gleamed. “It lights up,” Steven said.
“Say something into it.”
Steven spoke into the box. “Hello! Hello! This is operator 6-Z75 calling. Can you hear me? This is operator 6-Z75. Can you hear me?”
In the darkness, away from the beam of the guide-light, Thomas Cole sat crouched over the food. He ate gratefully, silently. It was good food, well cooked and seasoned. He drank a container of orange juice and then a sweet drink he didn’t recognize. Most of the food was strange to him, but he didn’t care. He had walked a long way and he was plenty hungry. And he still had a long way to go, before morning. He had to
