Descending Road - ROBOTOOLS HANGING LIKE FLAYED LIMBS by Dana W. Paxson

ROBOTOOLS HANGING LIKE FLAYED LIMBS

1563 4D

The ashes of Andrew‘s home greased his fingers and smeared themselves in dark slashes across his moonlit coverall. Dazed, he prodded a heap of rain-soggy debris where the master bedroom had collapsed into a grimy, lumpy rubble over the house’s former crawl-space rockfill. A piece of twisted metal paneling showed a familiar corner, darkened with soot: the remains of his dresser cabinet.

He’d tiptoed past the outbuilding, not knowing why; a gleam of light from one of its windows had told him it wasn’t safe to make noise there. The ruins lay about a hundred strides from the fence.

Curiosity and faint hope drove him. He kicked aside what looked like knots of blackened fabric, toed some bits of metal vaguely resembling parts of belts and fasteners, rooted up a large clod of heat-destroyed cloth melted into itself, and shoved it aside.

Two visions fought in him: one the memory of familiar things he looked for, the other the experience of what he saw. Desperately his mind kept trying to hook the two together. The hooks refused to hold. He sank to his knees in the wreckage and scrabbled with both hands in the oily blackness.

His fingers touched a cylinder; it was a beamer cartridge, somehow left undetonated in the fire. He missed it, reached again, and found it.

He cleaned its coating of carbon away, and held it up in the moonlight. An edge of discoloration snagged in his memory, and then he knew why it had survived the fire; it was Mentrius‘s bridgeblood token, its activating primer spoiled by the blood.

He put it in his pack, and began sifting the ruins of all the rooms. There had to be something more than this. He dug with boots and hands, finding only fragments of toys, bits of dishes, tangles of wire and fiber, heaps of jagged, melted cellusteel. No sign of any life, or even any death.

It overwhelmed him. He left the zone of destruction and squatted near the chimney remains, his head lowered. The energy and hope he had found with Marra and Deen were gone.

The whine of a van ascending the road behind Andrew jarred him back to reality and fear. This was Arlen‘s land now, and Arlen would take him again, and…

Feeling like a rat in a trap, he stood and raced in near-panic out through the gate, trying the whole time to soften the sound of his footfalls. He scurried for the rocks, and squeezed behind an outcropping. The whine grew in volume. The soft light from the window of the outbuilding dimmed.

The van stopped outside the gate and its rear hatch opened; from the outbuilding, three men in blue and gray lugged a body, completely wrapped in tempweave, to hurl it in the back.

As they climbed in after it, the sack kicked and writhed in the moonlight. Who or what was that? Raising his gun, he started forward impulsively. He could get two of them, maybe, but four or five? He hesitated.

The van door slammed; the van started up, turned and began the descent to the road. As it sank out of sight, a lighted window in its rear framed a man punching downward, over and over.

Andrew jumped forward in rage. His hamstring sent a lance of pain up his body, and he stumbled and fell, clutching the leg and writhing. Gasping muttered curses to ease the pain, he scanned the area. They were gone.

Where was Leil? When the place burned, she would have gotten out. With the kids. But if she hadn’t… He shook his head. Engel was at the University out south, thank Darko; they wouldn’t have caught him. He’d have to find Engel, fast, before something else happened.

Engel had a City home now, too, a one-span lockdoor cubby he used when taking time away from his studies. He’d gone independent, liked the streets far too much for Andrew, but at least he’d gone to school and started a hard course.

The outbuilding’s door stood open. Limping very slowly, Andrew worked his way to it and looked in. A blue light went on abruptly in his face, nearly blinding him; he stiffened, then ducked into shadow. His vision cleared, revealing a dirt floor, a small autocart, and on the wall some robotools hanging like flayed limbs. A glitter from the dirt struck his eye: a small datacard. Retrieving it, he saw only a few cryptic symbols, but its shape reminded him of a card Engel had had. He pocketed it and left. By the time he reached the junction with the road, his face and coat ran with his tears and sweat. He sat down in the bushes, shivering.

He pulled out the palm-sized card, worn by working fingers, its screen clouded and scarred. It didn’t respond at first to his fingers, then said PASSWORD? Its back was scuffed and black, without markings. He flipped it again. PASS ORD? it read. The display had faded slightly — the power source was weak. Please, Leil, I need you now. Come talk to me, settle me. The display faded until he saw only ?.

He rested, then got to his feet and began the walk to his brother’s farm, wondering what he would find.

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


	ROBOTOOLS HANGING LIKE FLAYED LIMBS 1563 4D The ashes of Andrew‘s home greased his fingers and smeared themselves in dark slashes across his moonlit coverall. Dazed, he prodded a heap of rain-soggy debris where the master bedroom had collapsed into a grimy, lumpy rubble over the house’s former crawl-space rockfill. A piece of twisted metal paneling showed a familiar corner, darkened with soot: the remains of his dresser cabinet. He’d tiptoed past the outbuilding, not knowing why; a gleam of light from one of its windows had told him it wasn’t safe to make noise there. The ruins lay about a hundred strides from the fence. Curiosity and faint hope drove him. He kicked aside what looked like knots of blackened fabric, toed some bits of metal vaguely resembling parts of belts and fasteners, rooted up a large clod of heat-destroyed cloth melted into itself, and shoved it aside. Two visions fought in him: one the memory of familiar things he looked for, the other the experience of what he saw. Desperately his mind kept trying to hook the two together. The hooks refused to hold. He sank to his knees in the wreckage and scrabbled with both hands in the oily blackness. His fingers touched a cylinder; it was a beamer cartridge, somehow left undetonated in the fire. He missed it, reached again, and found it. He cleaned its coating of carbon away, and held it up in the moonlight. An edge of discoloration snagged in his memory, and then he knew why it had survived the fire; it was Mentrius‘s bridgeblood token, its activating primer spoiled by the blood. He put it in his pack, and began sifting the ruins of all the rooms. There had to be something more than this. He dug with boots and hands, finding only fragments of toys, bits of dishes, tangles of wire and fiber, heaps of jagged, melted cellusteel. No sign of any life, or even any death. It overwhelmed him. He left the zone of destruction and squatted near the chimney remains, his head lowered. The energy and hope he had found with Marra and Deen were gone. The whine of a van ascending the road behind Andrew jarred him back to reality and fear. This was Arlen‘s land now, and Arlen would take him again, and… Feeling like a rat in a trap, he stood and raced in near-panic out through the gate, trying the whole time to soften the sound of his footfalls. He scurried for the rocks, and squeezed behind an outcropping. The whine grew in volume. The soft light from the window of the outbuilding dimmed. The van stopped outside the gate and its rear hatch opened; from the outbuilding, three men in blue and gray lugged a body, completely wrapped in tempweave, to hurl it in the back. As they climbed in after it, the sack kicked and writhed in the moonlight. Who or what was that? Raising his gun, he started forward impulsively. He could get two of them, maybe, but four or five? He hesitated. The van door slammed; the van started up, turned and began the descent to the road. As it sank out of sight, a lighted window in its rear framed a man punching downward, over and over. Andrew jumped forward in rage. His hamstring sent a lance of pain up his body, and he stumbled and fell, clutching the leg and writhing. Gasping muttered curses to ease the pain, he scanned the area. They were gone. Where was Leil? When the place burned, she would have gotten out. With the kids. But if she hadn’t… He shook his head. Engel was at the University out south, thank Darko; they wouldn’t have caught him. He’d have to find Engel, fast, before something else happened. Engel had a City home now, too, a one-span lockdoor cubby he used when taking time away from his studies. He’d gone independent, liked the streets far too much for Andrew, but at least he’d gone to school and started a hard course. The outbuilding’s door stood open. Limping very slowly, Andrew worked his way to it and looked in. A blue light went on abruptly in his face, nearly blinding him; he stiffened, then ducked into shadow. His vision cleared, revealing a dirt floor, a small autocart, and on the wall some robotools hanging like flayed limbs. A glitter from the dirt struck his eye: a small datacard. Retrieving it, he saw only a few cryptic symbols, but its shape reminded him of a card Engel had had. He pocketed it and left. By the time he reached the junction with the road, his face and coat ran with his tears and sweat. He sat down in the bushes, shivering. He pulled out the palm-sized card, worn by working fingers, its screen clouded and scarred. It didn’t respond at first to his fingers, then said PASSWORD? Its back was scuffed and black, without markings. He flipped it again. PASS ORD? it read. The display had faded slightly — the power source was weak. Please, Leil, I need you now. Come talk to me, settle me. The display faded until he saw only ?. He rested, then got to his feet and began the walk to his brother’s farm, wondering what he would find.