Descending Road - LIKE A DANCE OF LOVE by Dana W. Paxson

LIKE A DANCE OF LOVE

1563 4D

Ezzar stirred from a light doze. “Four hours to Drevill, three hours to dawn,” came Rion‘s voice.

“Any traffic?” she asked. She lifted her head from Rennie‘s lap. A moment passed with only the trudge and soft whine of the autocart.

Rion answered. “Nothing up this high. Long line of lights in the valley below us.” His arm waved in the starlight, a fleeting shadow. Ezzar looked down; a string of tiny sparks threaded against the blackness. Rion said, “Probably hauling lanthanides to Tarbruk. Wait.” His voice lowered into a tense whisper. “Lights coming, fast. Shit. Get out of sight.”

In a flurry, Ezzar and Rennie vanished under the flatbed, scrambling onto the cart’s struts just above road level, grappling out beam weapons. Ezzar heard Rion say to the cart, “Program sticklefoot.”

“Arthropods and banyans?” the cart asked.

“Devaluation and catabolism,” Rion replied. The cart stopped dead, blocking the narrow road; its cab and panel lights dimmed to emergency level. Oncoming lights glowed from around a bend, flaring bright, as a fastcar ground to a stop facing the darkened cart, spraying dust and pebbles.

“Clear the road!” came a sharp high voice. A woman stepped from the car. “Corporate security business.” She advanced. From underneath the cart, Ezzar noted the silhouette of another person in the car, with what looked like a weapon in hand.

“I’m sorry,” Rion said, with a subservient whine. Ezzar grinned in the dark. He was good at this. “It’s in seizure again. Look.” The woman peered into the cab. She wore a blue and gray corp one-piece uniform, and gray boots with soft sides that sagged to just above her ankles. Ezzar watched her calves bunch slightly as she rose on tiptoe.

“Get it working. Right now.” The woman’s voice rang piercing and clear against the rock wall on the far side of the cab from her.

“I’ll try,” Rion said, and began pushing buttons. A groan came from the cart. “See? It’ll be okay in about two hours, but when it does this I just can’t get it started again.”

“Hold on,” the woman said. She turned and called back to the car, “Lorn? Come look at this.” A man wearing the same blue and gray uniform got out and loped to the autocart, carrying a beam rifle. “He says it’s locked up.” The woman made room for him next to her, just outside the cab. Two pairs of gray-booted legs stood before Ezzar‘s face.

The man spoke fast and loudly. “Do you want to chuck it off the road? I’ve got a cartridge program with me that’ll do it.” He leaned into the cab. Astride a strut on her belly underneath the cart, Ezzar sighted her beam gun at the man’s legs, Rennie‘s huge body edging against her side. Like a dance of love. A dance of love in war.

Rion complained. “Wait! That’s my soil builder back there. It’s worth a lot.” Rion was such an actor. Ezzar tracked the movement of the man’s boots, waiting. Her target.

The woman said, “This is no time of night to be hauling farm machinery, is it? If I had time, I’d take you through a real good checkout. In fact, when we get back through here, you can count on it.”

“Ereet, we gotta go,” the man said.

The music in the woman’s voice betrayed her enjoyment. “I’m really sorry, Mister Farmer, but you either get this thing running in thirty seconds or it goes over the edge. We’ve got emergency business, and there’s no other way.”

In haste Rion said, “Here, give me a little room, and I’ll try one last thing.” As they stepped back he said, loud and sharp, “Program JKU.” From beneath the autocart, Ezzar shot the standing man through the ankles. Rennie‘s simultaneous shot at the woman paralleled Ezzar‘s. As the man and woman fell, needle-thin blasts of molten light — the second shots — speared silently through their heads and killed them.

Their boots, smoke rising in thin wisps from their singed tops, stood in the road; Rion kicked them aside, over the precipice. Rennie rolled out and up; they quickly frisked the uniform pockets for access IDs, then pitched the bodies after the boots. Ezzar closed her eyes as she stood up; the image of the two superilluminated faces, falling, yawning in horror, refused to go away.

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


	LIKE A DANCE OF LOVE 1563 4D Ezzar stirred from a light doze. “Four hours to Drevill, three hours to dawn,” came Rion‘s voice. “Any traffic?” she asked. She lifted her head from Rennie‘s lap. A moment passed with only the trudge and soft whine of the autocart. Rion answered. “Nothing up this high. Long line of lights in the valley below us.” His arm waved in the starlight, a fleeting shadow. Ezzar looked down; a string of tiny sparks threaded against the blackness. Rion said, “Probably hauling lanthanides to Tarbruk. Wait.” His voice lowered into a tense whisper. “Lights coming, fast. Shit. Get out of sight.” In a flurry, Ezzar and Rennie vanished under the flatbed, scrambling onto the cart’s struts just above road level, grappling out beam weapons. Ezzar heard Rion say to the cart, “Program sticklefoot.” “Arthropods and banyans?” the cart asked. “Devaluation and catabolism,” Rion replied. The cart stopped dead, blocking the narrow road; its cab and panel lights dimmed to emergency level. Oncoming lights glowed from around a bend, flaring bright, as a fastcar ground to a stop facing the darkened cart, spraying dust and pebbles. “Clear the road!” came a sharp high voice. A woman stepped from the car. “Corporate security business.” She advanced. From underneath the cart, Ezzar noted the silhouette of another person in the car, with what looked like a weapon in hand. “I’m sorry,” Rion said, with a subservient whine. Ezzar grinned in the dark. He was good at this. “It’s in seizure again. Look.” The woman peered into the cab. She wore a blue and gray corp one-piece uniform, and gray boots with soft sides that sagged to just above her ankles. Ezzar watched her calves bunch slightly as she rose on tiptoe. “Get it working. Right now.” The woman’s voice rang piercing and clear against the rock wall on the far side of the cab from her. “I’ll try,” Rion said, and began pushing buttons. A groan came from the cart. “See? It’ll be okay in about two hours, but when it does this I just can’t get it started again.” “Hold on,” the woman said. She turned and called back to the car, “Lorn? Come look at this.” A man wearing the same blue and gray uniform got out and loped to the autocart, carrying a beam rifle. “He says it’s locked up.” The woman made room for him next to her, just outside the cab. Two pairs of gray-booted legs stood before Ezzar‘s face. The man spoke fast and loudly. “Do you want to chuck it off the road? I’ve got a cartridge program with me that’ll do it.” He leaned into the cab. Astride a strut on her belly underneath the cart, Ezzar sighted her beam gun at the man’s legs, Rennie‘s huge body edging against her side. Like a dance of love. A dance of love in war. Rion complained. “Wait! That’s my soil builder back there. It’s worth a lot.” Rion was such an actor. Ezzar tracked the movement of the man’s boots, waiting. Her target. The woman said, “This is no time of night to be hauling farm machinery, is it? If I had time, I’d take you through a real good checkout. In fact, when we get back through here, you can count on it.” “Ereet, we gotta go,” the man said. The music in the woman’s voice betrayed her enjoyment. “I’m really sorry, Mister Farmer, but you either get this thing running in thirty seconds or it goes over the edge. We’ve got emergency business, and there’s no other way.” In haste Rion said, “Here, give me a little room, and I’ll try one last thing.” As they stepped back he said, loud and sharp, “Program JKU.” From beneath the autocart, Ezzar shot the standing man through the ankles. Rennie‘s simultaneous shot at the woman paralleled Ezzar‘s. As the man and woman fell, needle-thin blasts of molten light — the second shots — speared silently through their heads and killed them. Their boots, smoke rising in thin wisps from their singed tops, stood in the road; Rion kicked them aside, over the precipice. Rennie rolled out and up; they quickly frisked the uniform pockets for access IDs, then pitched the bodies after the boots. Ezzar closed her eyes as she stood up; the image of the two superilluminated faces, falling, yawning in horror, refused to go away.