Descending Road - NOT WITHOUT YOU by Dana W. Paxson

NOT WITHOUT YOU

1563 4D

When Andrew came awake he couldn’t hear. In green light that now flickered uncertainly, the car wobbled. Ezzar‘s lips moved. Martin‘s eyes roved around; panic clenched Grendel‘s face into a snow-white scowl.

In the ceiling of the car gaped a huge dark hole; a long metal spear stuck down through it, its sharpened point almost to the level of Andrew‘s head as he crouched on the floor. Spiraling down the spear from the splintered hole, a glistening thick stream of fluid stank of acid, vomit and slime. It dripped, steaming, onto Martin‘s shoulder, staining his worksuit, and then to the floor. Martin, trembling, seemed not to notice. The tang of burned flesh in the thickening air amplified the rot-smell.

The shuddering of the car finally began to grind its way into Andrew‘s hearing. He took a breath to speak, and the car jarred to a halt. The light flickered and went out, leaving a soft red after-darkness.

“Where are we?” Martin asked.

“Car?” Ezzar asked. “Car?” The car did not respond. A deep sobbing and choking began, and Ezzar‘s voice said, “Here, now, here, it’s all right.”

“What in hell is the matter with him?” Martin‘s voice.

“SHUT UP!” Ezzar shrilled.

Andrew stood up. The car’s panel showed no indications; it was dead. “Anyone have a chemtorch?” he asked. Grendel‘s uneven breathing answered him. Andrew found the liftcar‘s door with his hands, got a grip, and pulled sideways. To his surprise, it moved a hand’s-width and then stopped. Above his head, a tiny crack of light gleamed dully from the span he had opened. He strained again at the door. “We’re below floor level. Come on, Martin.” The two of them struggled with the door but could not move it any further. “We need Grendel,” he said to Ezzar.

“Rennie, look,” Ezzar said. “We can get out of here.” She took Grendel‘s head between her hands and forced him to turn and look up. “Rennie, we need you to help.” The andro stared uncomprehendingly.

Martin thrust his face close to Grendel‘s and grabbed Grendel‘s coverall at the throat. “Wake up!”

Ezzar slammed Martin back with her elbow. He staggered.

Andrew turned on her. “Why—“

“He’s claustrophobic!” she shouted, her hand on Grendel‘s head. “Little bastard!” She reached for her knife, but Andrew squeezed in front of her. She struggled briefly, and then relaxed. The dim light showed Andrew her face, swollen and stained. He held her for a heartbeat or two, then let go and put a hand under Grendel‘s arm.

“Let’s try,” he said. She helped him pull Grendel up until the tall andro stood between them.

“Look, Rennie,” Ezzar said to Grendel, “You can open this, can’t you? It’ll get you out of here.” She stroked his arm.

Andrew said to Martin, “Keep quiet now.” Grendel looked up at the light. His face cleared. Slowly he reached out and put his hands in the opening. A grinding sound rose, and the crack widened to the span of the door itself. In a hand’s-breadth gap between the upper edge of the liftcar doorway and the floor outside, a corridor of a deep level of the city showed dimly.

Grendel turned around to face away from the door, raised his arms, and placed his hands firmly against the exposed shaft wall behind him, his fingers on the floor itself above and behind his head. Hanging by his fingers, he lifted his knees, doubled himself upward, and jammed his feet against the ceiling, one foot outside each of his hands, which now supported him. Head downward, he shifted his weight to his palms, and strained. Grinding, the car began to move slowly upward until three feet of space opened.

“Get out,” he gurgled, “Quickly.” Andrew and Ezzar tossed weapons out, and Andrew hoisted Ezzar past the puffing Grendel hanging upside down in the car. Martin scrambled out. Then Andrew grabbed the slimed spear and yanked it free. His fingers burned. “Hurry,” Grendel said.

“Not without you,” Andrew answered. He drove the heavy spear between the shaft wall and the doorway of the car until it stuck hard. “Let go,” he said, “Let go!”

Grendel released his grip, dropped onto Andrew‘s arms, broke his fall, and rolled. The car sagged, the butt of the spear whipped up to strike the ceiling, and with a crunch they stopped moving. A narrow space still showed, barely large enough. “You first,” Andrew said.

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PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	NOT WITHOUT YOU 1563 4D When Andrew came awake he couldn’t hear. In green light that now flickered uncertainly, the car wobbled. Ezzar‘s lips moved. Martin‘s eyes roved around; panic clenched Grendel‘s face into a snow-white scowl. In the ceiling of the car gaped a huge dark hole; a long metal spear stuck down through it, its sharpened point almost to the level of Andrew‘s head as he crouched on the floor. Spiraling down the spear from the splintered hole, a glistening thick stream of fluid stank of acid, vomit and slime. It dripped, steaming, onto Martin‘s shoulder, staining his worksuit, and then to the floor. Martin, trembling, seemed not to notice. The tang of burned flesh in the thickening air amplified the rot-smell. The shuddering of the car finally began to grind its way into Andrew‘s hearing. He took a breath to speak, and the car jarred to a halt. The light flickered and went out, leaving a soft red after-darkness. “Where are we?” Martin asked. “Car?” Ezzar asked. “Car?” The car did not respond. A deep sobbing and choking began, and Ezzar‘s voice said, “Here, now, here, it’s all right.” “What in hell is the matter with him?” Martin‘s voice. “SHUT UP!” Ezzar shrilled. Andrew stood up. The car’s panel showed no indications; it was dead. “Anyone have a chemtorch?” he asked. Grendel‘s uneven breathing answered him. Andrew found the liftcar‘s door with his hands, got a grip, and pulled sideways. To his surprise, it moved a hand’s-width and then stopped. Above his head, a tiny crack of light gleamed dully from the span he had opened. He strained again at the door. “We’re below floor level. Come on, Martin.” The two of them struggled with the door but could not move it any further. “We need Grendel,” he said to Ezzar. “Rennie, look,” Ezzar said. “We can get out of here.” She took Grendel‘s head between her hands and forced him to turn and look up. “Rennie, we need you to help.” The andro stared uncomprehendingly. Martin thrust his face close to Grendel‘s and grabbed Grendel‘s coverall at the throat. “Wake up!” Ezzar slammed Martin back with her elbow. He staggered. Andrew turned on her. “Why—“ “He’s claustrophobic!” she shouted, her hand on Grendel‘s head. “Little bastard!” She reached for her knife, but Andrew squeezed in front of her. She struggled briefly, and then relaxed. The dim light showed Andrew her face, swollen and stained. He held her for a heartbeat or two, then let go and put a hand under Grendel‘s arm. “Let’s try,” he said. She helped him pull Grendel up until the tall andro stood between them. “Look, Rennie,” Ezzar said to Grendel, “You can open this, can’t you? It’ll get you out of here.” She stroked his arm. Andrew said to Martin, “Keep quiet now.” Grendel looked up at the light. His face cleared. Slowly he reached out and put his hands in the opening. A grinding sound rose, and the crack widened to the span of the door itself. In a hand’s-breadth gap between the upper edge of the liftcar doorway and the floor outside, a corridor of a deep level of the city showed dimly. Grendel turned around to face away from the door, raised his arms, and placed his hands firmly against the exposed shaft wall behind him, his fingers on the floor itself above and behind his head. Hanging by his fingers, he lifted his knees, doubled himself upward, and jammed his feet against the ceiling, one foot outside each of his hands, which now supported him. Head downward, he shifted his weight to his palms, and strained. Grinding, the car began to move slowly upward until three feet of space opened. “Get out,” he gurgled, “Quickly.” Andrew and Ezzar tossed weapons out, and Andrew hoisted Ezzar past the puffing Grendel hanging upside down in the car. Martin scrambled out. Then Andrew grabbed the slimed spear and yanked it free. His fingers burned. “Hurry,” Grendel said. “Not without you,” Andrew answered. He drove the heavy spear between the shaft wall and the doorway of the car until it stuck hard. “Let go,” he said, “Let go!” Grendel released his grip, dropped onto Andrew‘s arms, broke his fall, and rolled. The car sagged, the butt of the spear whipped up to strike the ceiling, and with a crunch they stopped moving. A narrow space still showed, barely large enough. “You first,” Andrew said.