Descending Road - THE FALL by Dana W. Paxson

THE FALL

1544 4D

Their hours in Purusil had ended. The militia trainees, rested and well-fed, turned again to ascend to the train platform on the surface. They boarded regretfully. It was time to ride down the snaking coastline to one of the mightiest wonders of Tarnus: the Great South Fall.

Andrew had seen the sensi holotours of this towering natural wall, on the large screens in the public meeting-hall not far from Aswar Tyrae. He and Alliji found seats; the train began to move as they sat down.

He tried to imagine how the Fall would look. It was a single, mighty, near-vertical scarp that swept from horizon to horizon, from its valley-riven western end at the Little Ocean, five thousand kilometers to its eastern end, where it bent sharply northward and sank to brown-sanded beaches on the Great Eastern Sea. The land to its south formed a deep-green rain forest, undulating over hills only a little above the seas’ levels, fading to several hundred kilometers of tidal mazes in the east, shading to hotter and richer jungle greens and yellows further south.

The near-bare stone on the north side of the Great South Fall stood an average of two thousand five hundred meters in height above the southern land beneath it, rising at its highest to three thousand two hundred meters. It was riven at intervals by monster crevasses ripped open over many thousands of years by crustal tensions, where now deep valleys lay rubbled, worn and rivered, and heavily overgrown with trees and other vegetation. Through these valleys lay the roads of access between north and south.

The western coast of Muathen stood high above the Little Ocean, and rose higher as it went south toward the Fall. Andrew and Alliji sat and watched their train pass on frail-looking steel bridges over gaps in the coastline, where the sea, dark as indigo-blue ink, entered into one narrow bay after another, far below them; the steeply-slanting sides of each bay, slabbed with seamed gray and brown rock, bore scattered straggles of green where lycopods and conifers clutched for holds against the stiff sea-winds.

At the second bay, tiny flecks of white on the dark waters attracted Andrew‘s eye. “What’s that long dark band down there on the water, with all the lines beside it?” he asked Alliji.

“I don’t know.”

“What’re you looking at?” It was Urvios.

“See that long thin line? Do you know what it is?” Andrew pointed.

Urvios laughed. “That’s the afternoon shadow of this train on the bridge. It’s about a thousand meters below us.”

“What??” Both Andrew and Alliji jammed their faces at the window, staring down.

“Yeah, you see those white flecks? Those are sea swells — waves taller than the cars of this train, where the wind has blown the tops off them.”

The train swayed, and the dark sliver of the bay vanished beneath them, replaced by solid land again. Andrew felt sick; he’d never in his life sensed such open vertical space. “Is this thing safe?”

“The train? Of course. The only time there’s trouble is when the wind really gets up. They lost a train that way, a few years ago, but the bridge got fixed. It’s fine. Besides, this is low down. Wait until we get near the Fall.” Urvios smiled at them and moved on along the car.

“The Fall? I don’t like that name any more,” Andrew said, with a nervous laugh. He retreated from the window. “Just tell me when we get there, okay?”

The day wore on; they stopped at a small station on a near-flat plain, for a quick airing and a bite to eat, and then continued traveling. The track began a long, gradual, steady climb as it crossed one bay after another, emerging abruptly from a cutting in the rock onto each thin bridge for several hundred meters, then diving back into the next cutting and rising gradually over several kilometers to a slightly higher level of grassy, shrub-dotted plain.

His eyes safely shut as he sat, Andrew tried to picture it: they were climbing south along a giant slab of tilted rock with long, deep cracks in its western edge where it dropped precipitously to the sea. He grew more excited. This story he would take back to tell Leil and his family.

He opened his eyes again and leaned past Alliji, who was raptly studying the sweep of the land. Andrew wanted to drink it all in, write it all in his heart, so he would never forget. This freedom was like nothing else he had ever known.

When the next gorge opened to show the more-distant shadow of the train, deep in the slit of the ocean bay, he said to himself, “Yes.”

“Like it, Luce?” Yuss was looking down at him. The afternoon sun slanted into the train’s western windows, leaving a splash of brightness on Yuss‘s military bodysuit.

“Yes, sir. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. So huge.”

“Good.” Yuss straightened, then walked to the front of the car and turned to face the sitting men and women. “Soldiers, you’re all about to find out what ‘huge’ really means. Mountain training starts tomorrow morning.”

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	THE FALL 1544 4D Their hours in Purusil had ended. The militia trainees, rested and well-fed, turned again to ascend to the train platform on the surface. They boarded regretfully. It was time to ride down the snaking coastline to one of the mightiest wonders of Tarnus: the Great South Fall. Andrew had seen the sensi holotours of this towering natural wall, on the large screens in the public meeting-hall not far from Aswar Tyrae. He and Alliji found seats; the train began to move as they sat down. He tried to imagine how the Fall would look. It was a single, mighty, near-vertical scarp that swept from horizon to horizon, from its valley-riven western end at the Little Ocean, five thousand kilometers to its eastern end, where it bent sharply northward and sank to brown-sanded beaches on the Great Eastern Sea. The land to its south formed a deep-green rain forest, undulating over hills only a little above the seas’ levels, fading to several hundred kilometers of tidal mazes in the east, shading to hotter and richer jungle greens and yellows further south. The near-bare stone on the north side of the Great South Fall stood an average of two thousand five hundred meters in height above the southern land beneath it, rising at its highest to three thousand two hundred meters. It was riven at intervals by monster crevasses ripped open over many thousands of years by crustal tensions, where now deep valleys lay rubbled, worn and rivered, and heavily overgrown with trees and other vegetation. Through these valleys lay the roads of access between north and south. The western coast of Muathen stood high above the Little Ocean, and rose higher as it went south toward the Fall. Andrew and Alliji sat and watched their train pass on frail-looking steel bridges over gaps in the coastline, where the sea, dark as indigo-blue ink, entered into one narrow bay after another, far below them; the steeply-slanting sides of each bay, slabbed with seamed gray and brown rock, bore scattered straggles of green where lycopods and conifers clutched for holds against the stiff sea-winds. At the second bay, tiny flecks of white on the dark waters attracted Andrew‘s eye. “What’s that long dark band down there on the water, with all the lines beside it?” he asked Alliji. “I don’t know.” “What’re you looking at?” It was Urvios. “See that long thin line? Do you know what it is?” Andrew pointed. Urvios laughed. “That’s the afternoon shadow of this train on the bridge. It’s about a thousand meters below us.” “What??” Both Andrew and Alliji jammed their faces at the window, staring down. “Yeah, you see those white flecks? Those are sea swells — waves taller than the cars of this train, where the wind has blown the tops off them.” The train swayed, and the dark sliver of the bay vanished beneath them, replaced by solid land again. Andrew felt sick; he’d never in his life sensed such open vertical space. “Is this thing safe?” “The train? Of course. The only time there’s trouble is when the wind really gets up. They lost a train that way, a few years ago, but the bridge got fixed. It’s fine. Besides, this is low down. Wait until we get near the Fall.” Urvios smiled at them and moved on along the car. “The Fall? I don’t like that name any more,” Andrew said, with a nervous laugh. He retreated from the window. “Just tell me when we get there, okay?” The day wore on; they stopped at a small station on a near-flat plain, for a quick airing and a bite to eat, and then continued traveling. The track began a long, gradual, steady climb as it crossed one bay after another, emerging abruptly from a cutting in the rock onto each thin bridge for several hundred meters, then diving back into the next cutting and rising gradually over several kilometers to a slightly higher level of grassy, shrub-dotted plain. His eyes safely shut as he sat, Andrew tried to picture it: they were climbing south along a giant slab of tilted rock with long, deep cracks in its western edge where it dropped precipitously to the sea. He grew more excited. This story he would take back to tell Leil and his family. He opened his eyes again and leaned past Alliji, who was raptly studying the sweep of the land. Andrew wanted to drink it all in, write it all in his heart, so he would never forget. This freedom was like nothing else he had ever known. When the next gorge opened to show the more-distant shadow of the train, deep in the slit of the ocean bay, he said to himself, “Yes.” “Like it, Luce?” Yuss was looking down at him. The afternoon sun slanted into the train’s western windows, leaving a splash of brightness on Yuss‘s military bodysuit. “Yes, sir. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. So huge.” “Good.” Yuss straightened, then walked to the front of the car and turned to face the sitting men and women. “Soldiers, you’re all about to find out what ‘huge’ really means. Mountain training starts tomorrow morning.”