Descending Road - THE SKY by Dana W. Paxson

THE SKY

1560 4D

Their train had only four cars for passengers, just behind the engine and its huge power cells; after the last decrepit coach was coupled a long string of cylindrical ore tankers that made the coaches jerk and sway. The many-miles-long tunnel coming out of the City‘s depths made for a long slow climb. Leil and Andrew and their children nodded, dozed, yawned to clear their ears, fidgeted on hard seats, nibbled at the packets of City food Leil had brought for the day-long trip.

A huddle of City andros, pale faces ghostly in the dimly-lit car, chittered anjive at each other in high squeaks and hisses, looking sad and afraid and somehow older than their vat-abbreviated years; they were adult and human and beautiful, but a kind apart, almost ethereal.

Andrew remembered the proud and independent andros of Purusil; the contrast with those he now saw was depressing. All the more reason to leave the City. Martin and Raul and Norwell had left only a step ahead of him.

Tunnel lamps crawled by every minute or so; the air in the car felt somehow drier, lighter. Andrew drew in a deep breath, scenting the engines’ ozone, its electric bite bracing him. At last.

The train broke out on the surface of the world; light rolled in the windows and hit them. Maiji, their two-year-old girl, shrieked and ducked into Leil‘s arms; Janny, the baby, set up a long wailing cry. None of them had ever seen a light farther than twenty paces from their eyes, nor stronger than the yellow lamps at Aswar Tyrae crossing above Sobi Zone.

Engel stared out the window at a vast green-tinged landscape of rocky hills under a brilliant sun. Andrew blinked and called out, “We’re free. Look out there!” He swallowed. He had forgotten how huge it all was.

He gawked out the window as they accelerated through the landscape. Everything seemed remote; the few trees dotting the hills looked insignificant. But the purple-blue sky was deep, marked with a few high long graceful clouds that washed it pale, silvered it, pearled it under a powerful white sun. He bumped his head against the window.

This was worth dying, just to see again. No wonder the government made it so costly to leave the cities and live in this surface world — few could afford such beauty. With a rush, the whole experience of his militia training tour hit him. He put his hands against the window as if to fly through it and up to the top of the sky.

“Andrew! The children, I need help.” Leil‘s hand touched his shoulder; he jumped, as if coming awake, and turned. Janny screamed, and Maiji cried and buried her face in Leil‘s leg.

Andrew swallowed. Leil‘s face was tear-streaked; as he picked up Maiji, Leil laughed at him and touched his cheek. “You too,” she said, and the sun-driven wetness stung his eyes.

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 SKY 1560 4D Their train had only four cars for passengers, just behind the engine and its huge power cells; after the last decrepit coach was coupled a long string of cylindrical ore tankers that made the coaches jerk and sway. The many-miles-long tunnel coming out of the City‘s depths made for a long slow climb. Leil and Andrew and their children nodded, dozed, yawned to clear their ears, fidgeted on hard seats, nibbled at the packets of City food Leil had brought for the day-long trip. A huddle of City andros, pale faces ghostly in the dimly-lit car, chittered anjive at each other in high squeaks and hisses, looking sad and afraid and somehow older than their vat-abbreviated years; they were adult and human and beautiful, but a kind apart, almost ethereal. Andrew remembered the proud and independent andros of Purusil; the contrast with those he now saw was depressing. All the more reason to leave the City. Martin and Raul and Norwell had left only a step ahead of him. Tunnel lamps crawled by every minute or so; the air in the car felt somehow drier, lighter. Andrew drew in a deep breath, scenting the engines’ ozone, its electric bite bracing him. At last. The train broke out on the surface of the world; light rolled in the windows and hit them. Maiji, their two-year-old girl, shrieked and ducked into Leil‘s arms; Janny, the baby, set up a long wailing cry. None of them had ever seen a light farther than twenty paces from their eyes, nor stronger than the yellow lamps at Aswar Tyrae crossing above Sobi Zone. Engel stared out the window at a vast green-tinged landscape of rocky hills under a brilliant sun. Andrew blinked and called out, “We’re free. Look out there!” He swallowed. He had forgotten how huge it all was. He gawked out the window as they accelerated through the landscape. Everything seemed remote; the few trees dotting the hills looked insignificant. But the purple-blue sky was deep, marked with a few high long graceful clouds that washed it pale, silvered it, pearled it under a powerful white sun. He bumped his head against the window. This was worth dying, just to see again. No wonder the government made it so costly to leave the cities and live in this surface world — few could afford such beauty. With a rush, the whole experience of his militia training tour hit him. He put his hands against the window as if to fly through it and up to the top of the sky. “Andrew! The children, I need help.” Leil‘s hand touched his shoulder; he jumped, as if coming awake, and turned. Janny screamed, and Maiji cried and buried her face in Leil‘s leg. Andrew swallowed. Leil‘s face was tear-streaked; as he picked up Maiji, Leil laughed at him and touched his cheek. “You too,” she said, and the sun-driven wetness stung his eyes.