Descending Road - IT’S DANCE TIME by Dana W. Paxson

IT’S DANCE TIME

1563 4D

The access tunnel ran upward beside the conduit tunnel, both of them cut by the small stoneshapers the City used for all utility connections. The two tunnels were close enough to share an open space that ran between them their whole length. Each one, round and wide enough for two or three people to stand side by side, climbed almost straight up for about ninety feet, then tilted over into a level course that traversed a narrow section of the City. Andrew slowly climbed the access tunnel’s rungs, the ache in his legs growing to lances of pain.

Relieved when the passage began to tilt over toward level, he started to think about the tunnel trip with Grendel and Ezzar. He missed them. Maybe there was a chance he’d get out of this — after all, he’d gotten out of Arlen‘s grip twice — and he could sit down with them at Engrammatic and drink and eat and laugh and cry, and maybe he’d have Janny with him, too, and Engel. As he started the long near-crawl along the level section, stooping very low, his legs started to ache again.

Angie said, “I’m getting weapon readings ahead of you.” The visor display overlay showed a blur of red marks in the distance where the tunnel dwindled to a vanishing point. “No detectors, just beamer targeting signals.”

Andrew said, “Nazrelo, who’s got reflectors here? I’m reading beamers ahead. No movement yet.”

“We’ll pass ‘em up to you.” A flurry of small scraping sounds behind Andrew as he waited, and then he looked back. A bulky piece of stiff synthetic loomed toward him, and he grabbed the handles and stuck it between his body and the tunnel ahead. More work, pushing this weight. He started off again.

Angie reported every few seconds: No movement. At last Andrew peered over the shield and said, “Give me a telescopic.”

The real world outside faded to a shadow, and Andrew‘s vision leaped down the tunnel ahead. Pointing at him were a large beam gun like the streetwipers he had seen with Grendel and Ezzar, and a matrix array of shining points of radiance. “What’s the thing on my right?”

“That’s a smartfleche rack. This one’s got thirty-six rockets with little brains that like to hunt explosives and reactives. Does a real job on a group this size.”

“Wonderful. Best countertactics?”

“It depends. Best with this combo is to get them to fire the beamer at your reflector and hope you’ve got the right frequency ranges on you. Either you get cooked, or else the beam bounces and you slag both weapons before they can fire the smartfleche. Or else they’ve got a reflector too and they bounce it again and take you out with the rockets. And then there’s the problem with alarms and followup in long tunnels. Want to hear it?”

“No. So maybe if they think it’s one or two guys, they won’t bother with the smartfleche?”

“That’s the idea. But once you slag them, they’ll know it’s dance time.”

Andrew looked back. “Marande?”

In his earpieces, “Yes?”

“Want to take a bad crawl with me?”

“Better that than with Warren here. Sure.” A protesting grumble from Warren.

Andrew checked. “Nazrelo, that okay with you?”

“You picked my best. Yeah, go ahead. We’ll hold until exchange of fire or else your call, whichever’s first.”

“And I want Jeddin with me.”

Warren butted in. “Fuck, you want a droid? What for? To use as a shield?”

“Not this one. He fights. He’s as fast as the bugs, and he’s killed men.”

“Bullshit.” Warren.

Nazrelo said, “No, there’s a few of ‘em, and I’d want ‘em out there with me too. Go ahead.”

Marande came up behind Andrew, her beamer slung under her as she crawled. Jeddin followed, packing extra ammunition and shields. Andrew pushed the shield ahead of them, glancing at the markers showing distance to the end of the tunnel. Two hundred. One seventy. One fifty. The pain in Andrew‘s legs disappeared, overridden by the pain in his knees. “Angie, any change?”

“Not a thing. Nobody by the weapons. No sounds.”

One twenty. One hundred. At sixty, a voice roared at them from ahead: “Halt! You are in violation of the Treaty. Return to your city or we will destroy you and take levy from your people.”

Andrew stopped and subvoked to Angie, Now what are you picking up?

“Nothing yet. Wait. There’s a figure scrambling into place — must have been away from the post.”

The voice cut in again. “Return to your city now. You are in violation of the Treaty. We have placed weapons in this tunnel to destroy you. You have a count of twenty to turn and reach the hundred mark. Twenty.” A pause. “Nineteen—“

“We’ll wait right here,” Andrew whispered to Marande and Jeddin, “so get down as low as you can.” He rubbed the edge of the reflector back and forth across the round floor of the tunnel, trying to make it fit perfectly. A pinhole leak on a beam strike could kill all three of them. The announcement repeated once more at ten, then the count resumed at seven.

At zero nothing happened. Andrew waited, finally subvoking, Angie, what can you read from back here?

“Not much except the beamer might be powering up its coolers. Hard to tell. Can you take a look?”

Fat fucking chance of that. I’ve seen too many—

The beam hit. The reflector bucked slightly, its ablatives hissing away in the inferno, and then Andrew heard the sound of an explosion from ahead. The reflector’s grips heated up; he loosened his hold and peered over its rim.

Coming quickly toward him in a near-formation, five smartfleche rockets spiraled together around the cylinder of the tunnel. Before he could move, they found the open edge that offered access to the parallel conduit tunnel, sailed into it, and blew up with a shock that sent a white ball of plasma bouncing out into the access tunnel to shatter with a bang.

The tunnel lights blazed suddenly brighter, and died altogether.

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


	IT’S DANCE TIME 1563 4D The access tunnel ran upward beside the conduit tunnel, both of them cut by the small stoneshapers the City used for all utility connections. The two tunnels were close enough to share an open space that ran between them their whole length. Each one, round and wide enough for two or three people to stand side by side, climbed almost straight up for about ninety feet, then tilted over into a level course that traversed a narrow section of the City. Andrew slowly climbed the access tunnel’s rungs, the ache in his legs growing to lances of pain. Relieved when the passage began to tilt over toward level, he started to think about the tunnel trip with Grendel and Ezzar. He missed them. Maybe there was a chance he’d get out of this — after all, he’d gotten out of Arlen‘s grip twice — and he could sit down with them at Engrammatic and drink and eat and laugh and cry, and maybe he’d have Janny with him, too, and Engel. As he started the long near-crawl along the level section, stooping very low, his legs started to ache again. Angie said, “I’m getting weapon readings ahead of you.” The visor display overlay showed a blur of red marks in the distance where the tunnel dwindled to a vanishing point. “No detectors, just beamer targeting signals.” Andrew said, “Nazrelo, who’s got reflectors here? I’m reading beamers ahead. No movement yet.” “We’ll pass ‘em up to you.” A flurry of small scraping sounds behind Andrew as he waited, and then he looked back. A bulky piece of stiff synthetic loomed toward him, and he grabbed the handles and stuck it between his body and the tunnel ahead. More work, pushing this weight. He started off again. Angie reported every few seconds: No movement. At last Andrew peered over the shield and said, “Give me a telescopic.” The real world outside faded to a shadow, and Andrew‘s vision leaped down the tunnel ahead. Pointing at him were a large beam gun like the streetwipers he had seen with Grendel and Ezzar, and a matrix array of shining points of radiance. “What’s the thing on my right?” “That’s a smartfleche rack. This one’s got thirty-six rockets with little brains that like to hunt explosives and reactives. Does a real job on a group this size.” “Wonderful. Best countertactics?” “It depends. Best with this combo is to get them to fire the beamer at your reflector and hope you’ve got the right frequency ranges on you. Either you get cooked, or else the beam bounces and you slag both weapons before they can fire the smartfleche. Or else they’ve got a reflector too and they bounce it again and take you out with the rockets. And then there’s the problem with alarms and followup in long tunnels. Want to hear it?” “No. So maybe if they think it’s one or two guys, they won’t bother with the smartfleche?” “That’s the idea. But once you slag them, they’ll know it’s dance time.” Andrew looked back. “Marande?” In his earpieces, “Yes?” “Want to take a bad crawl with me?” “Better that than with Warren here. Sure.” A protesting grumble from Warren. Andrew checked. “Nazrelo, that okay with you?” “You picked my best. Yeah, go ahead. We’ll hold until exchange of fire or else your call, whichever’s first.” “And I want Jeddin with me.” Warren butted in. “Fuck, you want a droid? What for? To use as a shield?” “Not this one. He fights. He’s as fast as the bugs, and he’s killed men.” “Bullshit.” Warren. Nazrelo said, “No, there’s a few of ‘em, and I’d want ‘em out there with me too. Go ahead.” Marande came up behind Andrew, her beamer slung under her as she crawled. Jeddin followed, packing extra ammunition and shields. Andrew pushed the shield ahead of them, glancing at the markers showing distance to the end of the tunnel. Two hundred. One seventy. One fifty. The pain in Andrew‘s legs disappeared, overridden by the pain in his knees. “Angie, any change?” “Not a thing. Nobody by the weapons. No sounds.” One twenty. One hundred. At sixty, a voice roared at them from ahead: “Halt! You are in violation of the Treaty. Return to your city or we will destroy you and take levy from your people.” Andrew stopped and subvoked to Angie, Now what are you picking up? “Nothing yet. Wait. There’s a figure scrambling into place — must have been away from the post.” The voice cut in again. “Return to your city now. You are in violation of the Treaty. We have placed weapons in this tunnel to destroy you. You have a count of twenty to turn and reach the hundred mark. Twenty.” A pause. “Nineteen—“ “We’ll wait right here,” Andrew whispered to Marande and Jeddin, “so get down as low as you can.” He rubbed the edge of the reflector back and forth across the round floor of the tunnel, trying to make it fit perfectly. A pinhole leak on a beam strike could kill all three of them. The announcement repeated once more at ten, then the count resumed at seven. At zero nothing happened. Andrew waited, finally subvoking, Angie, what can you read from back here? “Not much except the beamer might be powering up its coolers. Hard to tell. Can you take a look?” Fat fucking chance of that. I’ve seen too many— The beam hit. The reflector bucked slightly, its ablatives hissing away in the inferno, and then Andrew heard the sound of an explosion from ahead. The reflector’s grips heated up; he loosened his hold and peered over its rim. Coming quickly toward him in a near-formation, five smartfleche rockets spiraled together around the cylinder of the tunnel. Before he could move, they found the open edge that offered access to the parallel conduit tunnel, sailed into it, and blew up with a shock that sent a white ball of plasma bouncing out into the access tunnel to shatter with a bang. The tunnel lights blazed suddenly brighter, and died altogether.