Descending Road - THE WIND STOPPED ALTOGETHER by Dana W. Paxson

THE WIND STOPPED ALTOGETHER

1560 4D

“Nassa! Come back!” Darvelia screamed to her daughter against the bitter wind. A vast wall of clouds bore down on them, bending in from the north around a massive outcrop of granite above, and Darvelia clutched the sheet around herself and her son Shellane. He quivered and dragged his feet in the gathering snow.

They had no boots, no layers of thick cloth, just thicknesses of useless Citywear made for the warmth of the underground streets thousands of kays behind them. Nassa had run back to see where her father had gone, and Darvelia looked anxiously over her shoulder. Dennon had disappeared when they’d crossed the last rise, telling Darvelia, “I’m going to try to deal some scrip for a blanket.” But now the wind was up, ripping at them with knives of chill, and he hadn’t returned, and now Nassa had gone to look for him.

“Nassa! Nassa!” Darvelia stopped and pulled Shellane close to her body. He clung to her, shivering so hard it made her knees knock together. Her feet in their City shoes no longer felt anything.

Guards were strung out along the long line of “pioneers”, grumbling in their overcoats and shouting to the slower walkers to speed up. Rumbles from the heights on either side of the long line told of snow masses slumping toward the pass they walked. The guards began firing ballistic weapons into the air, a burst here, a shot there, trying to urge the walkers along, until a top barker roared at them, “Damn it, you want this place to bury us? Do that any more and it’ll trigger the snow down, and then we’ll all be dead!” More grumbling, and a guard stamped up to Darvelia.

“Move on, Mother, or you’re going to get left here alone.” He grabbed Shellane‘s arm and yanked the boy away from Darvelia, shouting at him, “Come on, boy, if your mama won’t move, you’re gonna have to grow in a hurry! Be a soldier and get moving!”

“Easy, man.” An older man dressed in a long coat was beside them. “He’s just a little kid. Here.” He extended his hand to the guard, who took something from him so quickly that Darvelia couldn’t see what it was. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“You do that, Father. And keep yourself and them moving, will you? This stuff is getting heavier and colder.” The guard moved away as Nassa came running up to them, her lips blue with cold.

“I can’t find Dad,” she stammered. “He’s gone somewhere and I can’t find him.”

Darvelia bit her lip. She said, “He’s just back there looking for some warm coats. It may take him a long time. Come on, we have to keep moving. Here, let me--“

“I’ve got something for her,” the older man said. He pulled out a scarf from his coat. “She needs this a lot more than I do.”

“You shouldn’t do that,” Darvelia protested. “You need it too.”

“My name is Derizan Alumaras Uni Junusium,” the man said.

Arcus! Darvelia wanted to hug him. “I’m Darvelia Ans Kerran Ovu Gazurium. This is Shellane my son, and Nassa my daughter. Are you alone out here?”

The man called Derizan smiled as they moved forward against the wind. Snow clung ropelike to the ends of his long drooping mustache, accenting the white in its mixture with dark hair. “Not with you here. And my wife and family are over there.” He gestured into a thickening, flying soup of bitter flakes. “Come and walk with us.”

Darvelia followed him as they trudged onward and came side by side with a group of vague shapes. Derizan waved expansively, his coat flying open. “Here is my wife Astina Tee-Tee Harridium, and my extended family.” He introduced them all, and gave them Darvelia‘s name.

“Hana-jo,” she said, bowing her head in acknowledgement as they moved along. “Honor to you all.” She named her children, and then paused.

“Hanaan,” they said to her, a soft chorus of tired voices.

“We were supposed to go to the Marshes,” Derizan said, “but some unpleasant events forced a change in plans. That’s why we’re up here with you.”

“We were told that we’d be in a forest village,” Darvelia said. “This doesn’t look like a forest to me.” The wind had lessened slightly, and now she could see one or two thousand meters up to where the peaks vanished in the roiling cloud cover. Shellane pressed tightly against her thigh as he stumbled onward, and Nassa clutched her hand with a frozen grip.

“No,” Derizan said. “It’s no forest. Your husband — was he active in the coll? Which clan is he?”

“He’s Imzendium. They were--“

“I know them well.” Derizan‘s hand on her arm said, Not here and now. “My cousins were Imzendium, and they got sent this way three months ago, from Gran Dar.”

“How are they doing?”

Derizan shook his head and said nothing. The wind gusted a few times, and then stopped blowing altogether, plunging everyone into a silence so abrupt that everyone, even the guards, stopped moving to listen. Only a soft sighing of distant air hinted at the force of the storm glowering high over their heads.

Darvelia hugged her children, and leaned to whisper to Derizan, “Then it’s as bad as we’ve imagined, isn’t it? They’re sending us up here to die.”

Derizan drew away. His dark eyes flashed a deep and horrible anger. “Yes,” he said. “Welcome to the relocation.”

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 WIND STOPPED ALTOGETHER 1560 4D “Nassa! Come back!” Darvelia screamed to her daughter against the bitter wind. A vast wall of clouds bore down on them, bending in from the north around a massive outcrop of granite above, and Darvelia clutched the sheet around herself and her son Shellane. He quivered and dragged his feet in the gathering snow. They had no boots, no layers of thick cloth, just thicknesses of useless Citywear made for the warmth of the underground streets thousands of kays behind them. Nassa had run back to see where her father had gone, and Darvelia looked anxiously over her shoulder. Dennon had disappeared when they’d crossed the last rise, telling Darvelia, “I’m going to try to deal some scrip for a blanket.” But now the wind was up, ripping at them with knives of chill, and he hadn’t returned, and now Nassa had gone to look for him. “Nassa! Nassa!” Darvelia stopped and pulled Shellane close to her body. He clung to her, shivering so hard it made her knees knock together. Her feet in their City shoes no longer felt anything. Guards were strung out along the long line of “pioneers”, grumbling in their overcoats and shouting to the slower walkers to speed up. Rumbles from the heights on either side of the long line told of snow masses slumping toward the pass they walked. The guards began firing ballistic weapons into the air, a burst here, a shot there, trying to urge the walkers along, until a top barker roared at them, “Damn it, you want this place to bury us? Do that any more and it’ll trigger the snow down, and then we’ll all be dead!” More grumbling, and a guard stamped up to Darvelia. “Move on, Mother, or you’re going to get left here alone.” He grabbed Shellane‘s arm and yanked the boy away from Darvelia, shouting at him, “Come on, boy, if your mama won’t move, you’re gonna have to grow in a hurry! Be a soldier and get moving!” “Easy, man.” An older man dressed in a long coat was beside them. “He’s just a little kid. Here.” He extended his hand to the guard, who took something from him so quickly that Darvelia couldn’t see what it was. “I’ll keep an eye on them.” “You do that, Father. And keep yourself and them moving, will you? This stuff is getting heavier and colder.” The guard moved away as Nassa came running up to them, her lips blue with cold. “I can’t find Dad,” she stammered. “He’s gone somewhere and I can’t find him.” Darvelia bit her lip. She said, “He’s just back there looking for some warm coats. It may take him a long time. Come on, we have to keep moving. Here, let me--“ “I’ve got something for her,” the older man said. He pulled out a scarf from his coat. “She needs this a lot more than I do.” “You shouldn’t do that,” Darvelia protested. “You need it too.” “My name is Derizan Alumaras Uni Junusium,” the man said. Arcus! Darvelia wanted to hug him. “I’m Darvelia Ans Kerran Ovu Gazurium. This is Shellane my son, and Nassa my daughter. Are you alone out here?” The man called Derizan smiled as they moved forward against the wind. Snow clung ropelike to the ends of his long drooping mustache, accenting the white in its mixture with dark hair. “Not with you here. And my wife and family are over there.” He gestured into a thickening, flying soup of bitter flakes. “Come and walk with us.” Darvelia followed him as they trudged onward and came side by side with a group of vague shapes. Derizan waved expansively, his coat flying open. “Here is my wife Astina Tee-Tee Harridium, and my extended family.” He introduced them all, and gave them Darvelia‘s name. “Hana-jo,” she said, bowing her head in acknowledgement as they moved along. “Honor to you all.” She named her children, and then paused. “Hanaan,” they said to her, a soft chorus of tired voices. “We were supposed to go to the Marshes,” Derizan said, “but some unpleasant events forced a change in plans. That’s why we’re up here with you.” “We were told that we’d be in a forest village,” Darvelia said. “This doesn’t look like a forest to me.” The wind had lessened slightly, and now she could see one or two thousand meters up to where the peaks vanished in the roiling cloud cover. Shellane pressed tightly against her thigh as he stumbled onward, and Nassa clutched her hand with a frozen grip. “No,” Derizan said. “It’s no forest. Your husband — was he active in the coll? Which clan is he?” “He’s Imzendium. They were--“ “I know them well.” Derizan‘s hand on her arm said, Not here and now. “My cousins were Imzendium, and they got sent this way three months ago, from Gran Dar.” “How are they doing?” Derizan shook his head and said nothing. The wind gusted a few times, and then stopped blowing altogether, plunging everyone into a silence so abrupt that everyone, even the guards, stopped moving to listen. Only a soft sighing of distant air hinted at the force of the storm glowering high over their heads. Darvelia hugged her children, and leaned to whisper to Derizan, “Then it’s as bad as we’ve imagined, isn’t it? They’re sending us up here to die.” Derizan drew away. His dark eyes flashed a deep and horrible anger. “Yes,” he said. “Welcome to the relocation.”