Descending Road - COUNTING SCREWS by Dana W. Paxson

COUNTING SCREWS

2416 CE

Resting in his cubbyhole, Doug put on his helmet liner with its transceiver, and switched on, looking for Geordie. A gabble of voices blared trouble at him.

“Get him out!” Nye‘s voice.

“I can’t move him, he’s caught. Where’s the grippers?”

“Down Hive. I sent Willie O —"

“It’s moving! The god-damn thing is moving again!”

“Orbital elements as follows—" the Millie-voice, calm and quick, recited numbers through the din.

“Nelson, get up on the corner and steady it.”

“Which corner?”

“Willie O, fuck, where are you?”

“Seven four four…"

“The fucking lock won’t open!” Willie‘s voice.

“The upper left one, outer. No, damn it, the other one, shit-brain!” Nye again.

Doug grabbed his mike, fumbled it into place, forgot to power it up, swore, powered up, shouted, “Who’s caught? Who’s caught?”

“Clear the channel! We’ve got a hurt screw up here!” Nye once more, trying to get things under control.

A screw. Qin was dead, ate a plasma dinner last cycle, so the only screws left on Hive Seventy were Nye, and Doug, and Geordie, and Azam, and Majid. Azam and Majid were off-shift.

It was Geordie. Doug leaped for his suit liner, cursing. His new hand would have to learn its job fast.

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	COUNTING SCREWS 2416 CE Resting in his cubbyhole, Doug put on his helmet liner with its transceiver, and switched on, looking for Geordie. A gabble of voices blared trouble at him. “Get him out!” Nye‘s voice. “I can’t move him, he’s caught. Where’s the grippers?” “Down Hive. I sent Willie O —" “It’s moving! The god-damn thing is moving again!” “Orbital elements as follows—" the Millie-voice, calm and quick, recited numbers through the din. “Nelson, get up on the corner and steady it.” “Which corner?” “Willie O, fuck, where are you?” “Seven four four…" “The fucking lock won’t open!” Willie‘s voice. “The upper left one, outer. No, damn it, the other one, shit-brain!” Nye again. Doug grabbed his mike, fumbled it into place, forgot to power it up, swore, powered up, shouted, “Who’s caught? Who’s caught?” “Clear the channel! We’ve got a hurt screw up here!” Nye once more, trying to get things under control. A screw. Qin was dead, ate a plasma dinner last cycle, so the only screws left on Hive Seventy were Nye, and Doug, and Geordie, and Azam, and Majid. Azam and Majid were off-shift. It was Geordie. Doug leaped for his suit liner, cursing. His new hand would have to learn its job fast.