CHAPTER ONE
He sat straddling the roof of the holiday home and wiped perspiration from his brow. January, high summer in the southern hemisphere, was hot. It almost too hot now for the iron on the roof reflected the overhead sun. This made his job almost impossible. Perhaps he should stop and come back up in the cool of the evening.
No, he'd try it one last time to align the satellite dish so they could receive all the television channels rather than just two available a Riversdale, the remote beach resort tucked in behind hills away from any television transmission tower. His sister, Val had told him it was false economy purchasing the cheap unofficial box and dish, as they had to be manually aligned. Perhaps she was right. The references in the manual were vague, too with the only grid reference being to Masterton, the closest large town, fifty kilometres away.
"Uncle Rhett," the girl shouted up from the lawn below. "It's almost working. Mum said to twist it back a little."
"Right Ava," Rhett called back.
He reached out with his fingers to rotate the screw clockwise a few millimetres. When he touched the hot metal an electric shock jolted him. He jerked back in alarm and shook his head. A sphere of energy the size of a tennis ball sat on his opened hand. It tickled rather than repeated the electric shock before it lifted, floated away like a bubble and disappeared in the sunlight.
Rhett Pennant frowned and stared out across the lawn. He could see the local road with holidaymakers walking along in beach attire, the usual quad bikes that seemed to be a necessity in the village and the neighbour's cat sitting in shade under a bush. The spark or whatever it was had gone.
"Uncle Rhett," Ava screamed with alarm in her voice. "What did you do?"
"Did you see something, too?"
"A yellow fireball came out of your hand. Are you okay?"
"Got a kick back from the dish. You'd better ask your mother to turn off the tellie."
Ava turned. "Mum," she screamed. "Uncle Rhett wants you to turn the tellie off. He got a shock."
Val appeared and glanced up. "You be careful, Rhett," she called out. "Just leave it. We can get a service man in next week."
"And pay a hundred bucks travelling expenses. No, toss me one of those rubber gloves you use for painting and I'll have one last try."
"Okay, but it is foolish to play with live wires. I'm leaving everything off."
Rhett smiled. His sister and brother-in-law had taken him under their wing since Lesley; his wife had died the winter before. It had been a difficult time but he was mainly over it now and could see a way forward in his life. He slipped on the gloves Val tossed up and reached out, somewhat apprehensively, to touch the screw. There was no shock so he twisted it a fraction.
It took several adjustments by trial and error for Val refused to turn the set below back on until his hands were away from the dish. Finally, though, he heard a scream of delight and five-year-old Kristine ran out.
"It works Uncle Rhett," she screamed as she jumped up and down in delight. "We've got the cartoons."
"But not for long," Ava cut in as she, too appeared on the lawn. "I want to watch C4."
This was a music channel that seemed to be mandatory viewing for local New Zealand teenagers. Rhett grinned for Ava was only eleven. They grew up so quickly in this modern age.
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