Descending Road - A NAGGING THREE-PART CANON by Dana W. Paxson

A NAGGING THREE-PART CANON

1563 4D

Ezzar, Grendel, Andrew and Martin walked into the Drevill mining and refinement complex the morning after the last stage of their trek. The radiation worried Ezzar; she said, “Stay away from the plute cars, the purple ones. The ash and the plute will kill you the hard way.” The tube trains ran most of the way underground from the complex in the mountains to the deeper levels of the City.

“Don’t they guard this place?” Martin asked, looking at the sprawling yard.

“Only andros work here,” Rennie said. “No human wants to risk the long-term radiation. We’re cheap and available.” He grinned, showing his uneven row of upper teeth. “Aren’t we, EZ?”

She looked down and felt her face turn a shade darker. Damn him. Why did she like him so much when he did this? He laughed, rumbling, shaking his head.

“Big pale pig,” she mumbled, swatting at him. He laughed louder. “Come on,” she finally said, looking up and forward, “Let’s find the engines.” Wanting Cortevail with them, she led the way into the terminal, past andros shoveling, vacuuming and mopping away dust. Lights and tones patterned from wall panels. Ignored, the newcomers followed beside rails until huge blunt-nosed, cylindrical engines faced them, triple lamps scouring the dusty air in front, with cars of the same diameter lined up behind into darkness. Loading pumps roared and echoed from the shadows as powdered packing ore filled the last cars. A few cars carried a broad purple band painted around one end from top to bottom.

From the cab of one engine an andro woman looked out. Rennie buzzed, and she looked down at him. They anjived back and forth until Rennie turned to Ezzar and the two brothers. “She’s leaving in twenty minutes,” he announced. “We can sit on the floor in the rear of the engine cab.” He muttered to Ezzar, “Everything’s loaded.”

They got up into the cab, behind the engineer. The train moved out into the tube, diving underground. Sitting beside Andrew on the floor in the cramped cab, Ezzar suppressed twitches when his thigh moved against hers. Actinide monopoles. Would Torre know what that was about? Maybe she could get Andrew loosened up, if he ever got that shocked look out of those dark eyes.

This wasn’t such a good idea, bringing these men in as cover for the weapon load. She looked across Andrew at Martin, who was already dozing. Martin she hadn’t trusted since she’d met him during the winter; he was always trying to know everything he didn’t need to know. On her other side Rennie stretched out his bad leg, humming a nagging three-part canon that seemed to tie itself in knots and untie again, over and over. Beautiful.

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	A NAGGING THREE-PART CANON 1563 4D Ezzar, Grendel, Andrew and Martin walked into the Drevill mining and refinement complex the morning after the last stage of their trek. The radiation worried Ezzar; she said, “Stay away from the plute cars, the purple ones. The ash and the plute will kill you the hard way.” The tube trains ran most of the way underground from the complex in the mountains to the deeper levels of the City. “Don’t they guard this place?” Martin asked, looking at the sprawling yard. “Only andros work here,” Rennie said. “No human wants to risk the long-term radiation. We’re cheap and available.” He grinned, showing his uneven row of upper teeth. “Aren’t we, EZ?” She looked down and felt her face turn a shade darker. Damn him. Why did she like him so much when he did this? He laughed, rumbling, shaking his head. “Big pale pig,” she mumbled, swatting at him. He laughed louder. “Come on,” she finally said, looking up and forward, “Let’s find the engines.” Wanting Cortevail with them, she led the way into the terminal, past andros shoveling, vacuuming and mopping away dust. Lights and tones patterned from wall panels. Ignored, the newcomers followed beside rails until huge blunt-nosed, cylindrical engines faced them, triple lamps scouring the dusty air in front, with cars of the same diameter lined up behind into darkness. Loading pumps roared and echoed from the shadows as powdered packing ore filled the last cars. A few cars carried a broad purple band painted around one end from top to bottom. From the cab of one engine an andro woman looked out. Rennie buzzed, and she looked down at him. They anjived back and forth until Rennie turned to Ezzar and the two brothers. “She’s leaving in twenty minutes,” he announced. “We can sit on the floor in the rear of the engine cab.” He muttered to Ezzar, “Everything’s loaded.” They got up into the cab, behind the engineer. The train moved out into the tube, diving underground. Sitting beside Andrew on the floor in the cramped cab, Ezzar suppressed twitches when his thigh moved against hers. Actinide monopoles. Would Torre know what that was about? Maybe she could get Andrew loosened up, if he ever got that shocked look out of those dark eyes. This wasn’t such a good idea, bringing these men in as cover for the weapon load. She looked across Andrew at Martin, who was already dozing. Martin she hadn’t trusted since she’d met him during the winter; he was always trying to know everything he didn’t need to know. On her other side Rennie stretched out his bad leg, humming a nagging three-part canon that seemed to tie itself in knots and untie again, over and over. Beautiful.