“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.