Descending Road - RATTLE THIS BOX by Dana W. Paxson

RATTLE THIS BOX

1563 4D

Hunger woke Andrew after a plodding hour. They rounded a stand of spindly pines, and a ramshackle two-story cellusteel-frame building, paneled with lightweight gray-blue cellstone, came into view. Beyond it lay a thick mountainside shrub grove; large vans and autocarts were parked outside its front door.

Over the door in old formal lettering a sign read: Engrammatic Inn. Beneath it another sign sputtered changing patterns of colored light. Many tall, fair-skinned people were entering or leaving the place. Andrew tensed, and asked Martin, “Is this where we’re going?”

“It’s the best place. Andros don’t tell anyone who comes and goes. I drive them to and from work every day, and some of them buy me drinks. Let’s cache the guns, just in case the corpos decide to stop in.”

“You never liked andros much, just like Dad. Now look at you.”

Martin grinned, with a sheepish look. “I’ve learned a few things. Come on, just keep your eyes open. Like I said, the corpos like to rattle this box sometimes.” They wrapped and hid their guns under some brush a short distance out of sight of the road. As they approached Engrammatic Inn, Andrew took a deep breath: men in gray and blue uniforms left the front door, and walked to a van on the far side of the building.

He grabbed Martin‘s arm. They moved out of sight until the van‘s whine had faded into the whispers of the wind. Nothing was ever going to be easy, not any more.

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


	RATTLE THIS BOX 1563 4D Hunger woke Andrew after a plodding hour. They rounded a stand of spindly pines, and a ramshackle two-story cellusteel-frame building, paneled with lightweight gray-blue cellstone, came into view. Beyond it lay a thick mountainside shrub grove; large vans and autocarts were parked outside its front door. Over the door in old formal lettering a sign read: Engrammatic Inn. Beneath it another sign sputtered changing patterns of colored light. Many tall, fair-skinned people were entering or leaving the place. Andrew tensed, and asked Martin, “Is this where we’re going?” “It’s the best place. Andros don’t tell anyone who comes and goes. I drive them to and from work every day, and some of them buy me drinks. Let’s cache the guns, just in case the corpos decide to stop in.” “You never liked andros much, just like Dad. Now look at you.” Martin grinned, with a sheepish look. “I’ve learned a few things. Come on, just keep your eyes open. Like I said, the corpos like to rattle this box sometimes.” They wrapped and hid their guns under some brush a short distance out of sight of the road. As they approached Engrammatic Inn, Andrew took a deep breath: men in gray and blue uniforms left the front door, and walked to a van on the far side of the building. He grabbed Martin‘s arm. They moved out of sight until the van‘s whine had faded into the whispers of the wind. Nothing was ever going to be easy, not any more.