Descending Road - IN FRONT OF A PAIR OF GRAY STEEL DOORS by Dana W. Paxson

IN FRONT OF A PAIR OF GRAY STEEL DOORS

1563 4D

Standing once again in the entrance to the walled-off command cubby, Ezzar blinked to clear the dust and silt from her eyes. The officer with the missing leg shouted into his comm, making her jump. “No! The reactor control system is through there! For blood’s sake don’t send the stonehosers in! Well, I don’t know, yes, wait, put ‘em up on 632 and send them down around the stacks, spiral down left, pitch thirty. That’ll miss the access tunnels. Okay thirty-five. Pitch thirty-five. Yes. Shit. Now call Hendarno, I’m off for a rest.”

The officer stared wearily up at Ellichik and Ezzar. “We finally got out of that fucking sandwich they had us in. When we got here the doors to the Complex were locked, and Arlen‘s bunch came in from the opposite side and pinned us here, like he knew we were coming. Damn bugs. We lost thirty in one street, eight in another. But we burned ‘em down. We’re out.” He sighed, and added, “Now we gotta get in. Ellichik, can you and these guys get over to the forty-five radial out of the Complex? Where’s that utility guy?”

“He’s got to be dead,” Ezzar said, “A plasma shot blew a slab wall over on him. I saw him passed out under there, his helm was wedged. We got out before the bugs rolled through, but he couldn’t move. We got back there and it was just rubble, no wall, no Andrew, no—" She bit her hand to stop the tears from coming. “Something blew the slab apart. He’d been under there.”

“Find any spatters? Any bonefrag? Any blood?” The officer leaned toward her.

“No. I couldn’t see too much. Shit, we shouldn’t have left him there, Rennie and I both tried to lift it but—" She closed her eyes and rubbed them with the fingers of one hand.

The fatigue and pain ate into her skin and joints. The stink of her body’s exertions, the bitter ichors and blood of the bugs, the angular metallic smells of spent beam cartridges, the filthy smeared odors of war and death rose to hit her. She spat aside a choked swallow of her own acid. Could she ever eat again?

“Look,” Ellichik said to her, “He may be out and okay. Right now let’s get the rest of this done.”

“You got people?” the officer asked.

“Yeah, I got her and the big guy, and four more.”

“Then get over to the forty-five radial and skip on into the Complex ring. Find the containment vent hatches, this level, and use ‘em. Georvil‘s gonna meet you just inside the Complex, where the vents terminate two levels down. Vent hatches’ll have infra marks for Angie. Use her. Verify?”

Ellichik repeated it all back in his own words.

“On your way, featherass. Nap time for me.” The officer swiveled away to his panels and laid his head where the least light would hit his face.

Ezzar massaged her eyes again. Andrew. He’d bailed them out, and when he needed them to stay by him, they’d run. Why hadn’t she stayed? Rennie‘s hands took her arms, gently; his warmth radiated at her back.

“He’s okay,” the big man said in a low voice. “If he lived through Arlen, he can survive anything.”

“We should have stayed.” Ezzar leaned back against Rennie.

“No. They had the corridor lit up. We were lucky to find the back route. Look, why don’t you ask Angie what she’d do in Andrew‘s situation?”

“We’re outa here.” Ellichik jostled them, thrusting ammo packs at them. They joined his others and jogged off behind him.

Been listening, Angie? Ezzar tried.

“Yes.” The warm male voice pleased her.

If you were wedged under a ten-ton slab, could your owner get out? If he could move the rest of his body?

“What’s the orientation?”

Face down. You’re carrying the slab front to back. Ezzar held her breath as she moved along, a second seeming forever, until Angie answered.

“Sure. He just frees the chin piece and crawls out.”

And if he’s unconscious?

“If I can wake him up and get him focused. Then he does the same thing.”

Thanks. I guess that’s all I can hope for.

“Hey, EZ, you’re down about the man. I’ve got something for that. Pop it right in your main line.” Angie‘s voice sounded cheery, almost insolent.

Ezzar bridled. Keep it until they call the fast dances, all right?

“You got it.” Angie went silent.

Ezzar swallowed hard, and pushed herself up next to Rennie as they rounded a corner and jogged up an understreet covered by a giant beam unit. Four grimy, brown-clad fighters waved them on. Ezzar looked at the wall on her left, close enough to touch. As she passed it, symbols the length of her hand, carved on the wall in low relief, pitted and dusty with age, marched by. She poked Rennie‘s arm and pointed. He stared at the long spread of marks sweeping past on the wall.

“What are those?” he said. “No language I know.”

“Me either.”

Ellichik looked back for a split second, then said, “I’ll tell you about them later. Look,” and he pointed. They stopped in front of a pair of gray steel doors, flush with the right-hand wall, that showed flashing infrared marks in Ezzar‘s helm display. Ellichik pressed a small metal plate against one of the doors’ locks. A heartbeat later the door made a cracking sound and shifted slightly. He repeated the process with the other door. A red light appeared over each door as it came free.

“Fuck this. That’s gotta set off an alarm.” One of the other fighters spoke in a high voice. Ezzar looked the speaker over. A woman, by the hips and shoulders.

Ellichik answered her, “Yeah, Nargolin. Speed is all we have. Let’s go. Take the left one with your guys. You two come with me.” He beckoned to Rennie and Ezzar. “Shut the doors when you’re inside. Nargolin, we’re going down two full levels and out inside the outer vessel. Don’t expect to see us at the bottom, you’ll need to run to the right to get to us down there. Georvil should be there.”

The woman waved, and led her squad through the left door, pulling it shut. As Ezzar watched, the door’s red light went out.

“Come along, Toughskin,” Ellichik said to her in her earset. “You! Ezzar! Wake up!” Still thinking about Andrew, she followed Rennie in, and turned around onto a set of rungs dropping through a darkness relieved only by a chemtorch Ellichik held in his teeth, already far below her. She yanked on the door, dogged it shut, and began her descent in a shaft the size of the ancient ventilation shafts but smooth and clean and linear, except for the stitching of the rungs shrinking down away from her into the darkness.

The containment vents served as escapes for the air and steam and other gases and liquids in the reactor vessels. If a reactor failure created uncontrolled fissioning masses, a huge stock of prepackaged high-density moderators would drop from above the reactor, melt into the runaway masses, and begin absorbing enough neutron flux to bring the reaction down within safety limits. The moderators would sink, displacing the gases and lighter liquids in the reactor upward and into the containment vents.

As Ezzar descended, she passed a broad brown smear that ringed the shaft. She touched it experimentally. Below it the shaft seemed a duller color. Some time, long ago from the evidence of dust and grime, the reactor had let go. She shivered and reached for the next rung. All the work of years, work with Rennie and Cortevail and Rion and so many others, seeing so much death and doing so much killing, oh, the gaping unsounded scream of the faces of those two she and Rennie had shot when Rion had been stopped, the fading eyes of her dying cousin: Ezzar felt old.

Thirty-one years of cramming a month into every day, a year into every month, never stopping since she had been taken into her coll at seven, always fighting for the coll and for herself. After all the work and pain and death, would they be part of the next stain in this shaft? No, she said into the wall in front of her; no, she said to the rungs in her tired fingers. No.

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


	IN FRONT OF A PAIR OF GRAY STEEL DOORS 1563 4D Standing once again in the entrance to the walled-off command cubby, Ezzar blinked to clear the dust and silt from her eyes. The officer with the missing leg shouted into his comm, making her jump. “No! The reactor control system is through there! For blood’s sake don’t send the stonehosers in! Well, I don’t know, yes, wait, put ‘em up on 632 and send them down around the stacks, spiral down left, pitch thirty. That’ll miss the access tunnels. Okay thirty-five. Pitch thirty-five. Yes. Shit. Now call Hendarno, I’m off for a rest.” The officer stared wearily up at Ellichik and Ezzar. “We finally got out of that fucking sandwich they had us in. When we got here the doors to the Complex were locked, and Arlen‘s bunch came in from the opposite side and pinned us here, like he knew we were coming. Damn bugs. We lost thirty in one street, eight in another. But we burned ‘em down. We’re out.” He sighed, and added, “Now we gotta get in. Ellichik, can you and these guys get over to the forty-five radial out of the Complex? Where’s that utility guy?” “He’s got to be dead,” Ezzar said, “A plasma shot blew a slab wall over on him. I saw him passed out under there, his helm was wedged. We got out before the bugs rolled through, but he couldn’t move. We got back there and it was just rubble, no wall, no Andrew, no—" She bit her hand to stop the tears from coming. “Something blew the slab apart. He’d been under there.” “Find any spatters? Any bonefrag? Any blood?” The officer leaned toward her. “No. I couldn’t see too much. Shit, we shouldn’t have left him there, Rennie and I both tried to lift it but—" She closed her eyes and rubbed them with the fingers of one hand. The fatigue and pain ate into her skin and joints. The stink of her body’s exertions, the bitter ichors and blood of the bugs, the angular metallic smells of spent beam cartridges, the filthy smeared odors of war and death rose to hit her. She spat aside a choked swallow of her own acid. Could she ever eat again? “Look,” Ellichik said to her, “He may be out and okay. Right now let’s get the rest of this done.” “You got people?” the officer asked. “Yeah, I got her and the big guy, and four more.” “Then get over to the forty-five radial and skip on into the Complex ring. Find the containment vent hatches, this level, and use ‘em. Georvil‘s gonna meet you just inside the Complex, where the vents terminate two levels down. Vent hatches’ll have infra marks for Angie. Use her. Verify?” Ellichik repeated it all back in his own words. “On your way, featherass. Nap time for me.” The officer swiveled away to his panels and laid his head where the least light would hit his face. Ezzar massaged her eyes again. Andrew. He’d bailed them out, and when he needed them to stay by him, they’d run. Why hadn’t she stayed? Rennie‘s hands took her arms, gently; his warmth radiated at her back. “He’s okay,” the big man said in a low voice. “If he lived through Arlen, he can survive anything.” “We should have stayed.” Ezzar leaned back against Rennie. “No. They had the corridor lit up. We were lucky to find the back route. Look, why don’t you ask Angie what she’d do in Andrew‘s situation?” “We’re outa here.” Ellichik jostled them, thrusting ammo packs at them. They joined his others and jogged off behind him. Been listening, Angie? Ezzar tried. “Yes.” The warm male voice pleased her. If you were wedged under a ten-ton slab, could your owner get out? If he could move the rest of his body? “What’s the orientation?” Face down. You’re carrying the slab front to back. Ezzar held her breath as she moved along, a second seeming forever, until Angie answered. “Sure. He just frees the chin piece and crawls out.” And if he’s unconscious? “If I can wake him up and get him focused. Then he does the same thing.” Thanks. I guess that’s all I can hope for. “Hey, EZ, you’re down about the man. I’ve got something for that. Pop it right in your main line.” Angie‘s voice sounded cheery, almost insolent. Ezzar bridled. Keep it until they call the fast dances, all right? “You got it.” Angie went silent. Ezzar swallowed hard, and pushed herself up next to Rennie as they rounded a corner and jogged up an understreet covered by a giant beam unit. Four grimy, brown-clad fighters waved them on. Ezzar looked at the wall on her left, close enough to touch. As she passed it, symbols the length of her hand, carved on the wall in low relief, pitted and dusty with age, marched by. She poked Rennie‘s arm and pointed. He stared at the long spread of marks sweeping past on the wall. “What are those?” he said. “No language I know.” “Me either.” Ellichik looked back for a split second, then said, “I’ll tell you about them later. Look,” and he pointed. They stopped in front of a pair of gray steel doors, flush with the right-hand wall, that showed flashing infrared marks in Ezzar‘s helm display. Ellichik pressed a small metal plate against one of the doors’ locks. A heartbeat later the door made a cracking sound and shifted slightly. He repeated the process with the other door. A red light appeared over each door as it came free. “Fuck this. That’s gotta set off an alarm.” One of the other fighters spoke in a high voice. Ezzar looked the speaker over. A woman, by the hips and shoulders. Ellichik answered her, “Yeah, Nargolin. Speed is all we have. Let’s go. Take the left one with your guys. You two come with me.” He beckoned to Rennie and Ezzar. “Shut the doors when you’re inside. Nargolin, we’re going down two full levels and out inside the outer vessel. Don’t expect to see us at the bottom, you’ll need to run to the right to get to us down there. Georvil should be there.” The woman waved, and led her squad through the left door, pulling it shut. As Ezzar watched, the door’s red light went out. “Come along, Toughskin,” Ellichik said to her in her earset. “You! Ezzar! Wake up!” Still thinking about Andrew, she followed Rennie in, and turned around onto a set of rungs dropping through a darkness relieved only by a chemtorch Ellichik held in his teeth, already far below her. She yanked on the door, dogged it shut, and began her descent in a shaft the size of the ancient ventilation shafts but smooth and clean and linear, except for the stitching of the rungs shrinking down away from her into the darkness. The containment vents served as escapes for the air and steam and other gases and liquids in the reactor vessels. If a reactor failure created uncontrolled fissioning masses, a huge stock of prepackaged high-density moderators would drop from above the reactor, melt into the runaway masses, and begin absorbing enough neutron flux to bring the reaction down within safety limits. The moderators would sink, displacing the gases and lighter liquids in the reactor upward and into the containment vents. As Ezzar descended, she passed a broad brown smear that ringed the shaft. She touched it experimentally. Below it the shaft seemed a duller color. Some time, long ago from the evidence of dust and grime, the reactor had let go. She shivered and reached for the next rung. All the work of years, work with Rennie and Cortevail and Rion and so many others, seeing so much death and doing so much killing, oh, the gaping unsounded scream of the faces of those two she and Rennie had shot when Rion had been stopped, the fading eyes of her dying cousin: Ezzar felt old. Thirty-one years of cramming a month into every day, a year into every month, never stopping since she had been taken into her coll at seven, always fighting for the coll and for herself. After all the work and pain and death, would they be part of the next stain in this shaft? No, she said into the wall in front of her; no, she said to the rungs in her tired fingers. No.