Descending Road - GIVING by Dana W. Paxson

GIVING

2416 CE

The suited figure circled to where Doug could see it. It was Nye. He put one finger up against Doug‘s faceplate. No radio.

They hitched up, and Nye spun them with thrust. The Hive receded. A bump, and the tinny voice came again. Doug muted his microphone.

Nye said, “We’re getting out of here. I know where they’ll never find us.” He slammed Doug‘s suit at the belt, and the suit’s radio brain smashed into dust. The two men touched helmets, face to face, embracing. “So much for Millie and her tracking,” Nye panted.

“Where can we go?” Doug shouted, afraid he wouldn’t be heard. “They’ll kill us when they catch us. There’s no way to hide.”

“I’ll show you.”

They passed several orbiting loads of steel plates, and Doug, disoriented, looked back anxiously. Nye had steered them nearer the core shaft, out of sight of Ghermanov‘s pursuing guards. The two escapees now moved along Tompuso‘s spine, toward the great disk that ended the fully-completed section of the ship.

Behind a floating panel of steel an airlock stood in shadow. Nye pushed Doug forward. “Here’s an air charge for your suit, my friend. Go through that bulkhead door, follow the ultra arrows, and read the instructions in the room where you arrive. I’m done – I’ll lead them off. It’ll give you time.”

“But you can’t go back to the Hive! They’ll cook you!”

“Doesn’t matter. The Hole says I’ve only got a few more cycles. It’s a liver tumor.”

“Then why didn’t they send you home?”

“I didn’t get the Hole for two years, so nobody found it. Now it’s too late. Just go!” Nye squeezed Doug a little closer, then spread his arms.

Moved, Doug said, “Come with me!” All the curses he’d muttered at Nye for lopping off his hand came back to him. Nye was a good man.

“No. There’s only room for one, where you’re going. I was gonna do it myself, until the cancer came along. You’ve got to hurry. Go on now, old friend. Remember me and Geordie and the rest. It’s for us.” Nye jetted away from Doug, shot out into a lance of light from the faraway Sun, and retreated out of sight.

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


	GIVING 2416 CE The suited figure circled to where Doug could see it. It was Nye. He put one finger up against Doug‘s faceplate. No radio. They hitched up, and Nye spun them with thrust. The Hive receded. A bump, and the tinny voice came again. Doug muted his microphone. Nye said, “We’re getting out of here. I know where they’ll never find us.” He slammed Doug‘s suit at the belt, and the suit’s radio brain smashed into dust. The two men touched helmets, face to face, embracing. “So much for Millie and her tracking,” Nye panted. “Where can we go?” Doug shouted, afraid he wouldn’t be heard. “They’ll kill us when they catch us. There’s no way to hide.” “I’ll show you.” They passed several orbiting loads of steel plates, and Doug, disoriented, looked back anxiously. Nye had steered them nearer the core shaft, out of sight of Ghermanov‘s pursuing guards. The two escapees now moved along Tompuso‘s spine, toward the great disk that ended the fully-completed section of the ship. Behind a floating panel of steel an airlock stood in shadow. Nye pushed Doug forward. “Here’s an air charge for your suit, my friend. Go through that bulkhead door, follow the ultra arrows, and read the instructions in the room where you arrive. I’m done – I’ll lead them off. It’ll give you time.” “But you can’t go back to the Hive! They’ll cook you!” “Doesn’t matter. The Hole says I’ve only got a few more cycles. It’s a liver tumor.” “Then why didn’t they send you home?” “I didn’t get the Hole for two years, so nobody found it. Now it’s too late. Just go!” Nye squeezed Doug a little closer, then spread his arms. Moved, Doug said, “Come with me!” All the curses he’d muttered at Nye for lopping off his hand came back to him. Nye was a good man. “No. There’s only room for one, where you’re going. I was gonna do it myself, until the cancer came along. You’ve got to hurry. Go on now, old friend. Remember me and Geordie and the rest. It’s for us.” Nye jetted away from Doug, shot out into a lance of light from the faraway Sun, and retreated out of sight.