Descending Road - HE LEANED FORWARD FOR HER NEXT LINE by Dana W. Paxson

HE LEANED FORWARD FOR HER NEXT LINE

1563 4D

He turned toward the dining room entrance at the left end of the bar, a few steps from Ezzar‘s table. The barroom’s ornate metal front door, carved into delicate filigree, stood open to a sprawling room crowded with tables and chairs of all sizes and styles, with cluster lamps hanging like fist-sized sweetpods from tangled lightvines, glowing cream against the dim, spidery steelweb ceiling.

The name for this place, Engrammatic, was another of the many andro name-jokes dredged up out of ancient human history. Andros ran Engrammatic, and called it their own, for their own; but humans came, spending money to gawk and laugh and shout at andro tricks. Grendel, looking at Ezzar, ran his fingers through the coins in his pockets, feeling their low-sculpted symbols and words.

Ezzar‘s dark coloration softened her lean, deep facial features and muted the trio of scars that intersected on her left jaw. She had oiled and tied her black hair back the way he liked, with a gold chain in a tight wavy braid under one ear. She wore a segmented worksuit made of dark roughened paraleather. Her greenish-blue eyes glistened, betraying a twisting wet line of light down her face. Hurting. Time to bring her back.

Grendel went to her table. “Hey, EZ,” he said, “Got some bullets to kill the beasts.” He jingled the coins and made a fierce mock-scowl. “Let’s get some food.” She looked up at him with a sad face that slowly warmed into a soft smile. He returned the look. If he flew again soon, it would have to be without her. Not likely. He took her hand in an old gesture of manners. “My lady?”

She rose to her feet and responded with an extended toe and a bent knee. “Sir, I am yours.” She waited a second, and continued haughtily, “Dinner, if you wish.” She smiled; then in a sharper tone, “Who was that? Looked like a City andro. I didn’t like him.” She dabbed her eye. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you? About our job?” Her voice dropped.

“It’s okay, he’s an old partner. He’s part of it — he was at the Monford meeting with me. We used to work the knife show a lot. That was before you.” Grendel waited for the jealous rejoinder he had enjoyed many times.

“You’re mine. Don’t forget.”

He grinned at her and said his part, “I only chase women,” and leaned forward for her next line:

“But if I catch them first, I’ll skin them.” She patted the sheath at her belt and walked to the laceworked metal door.

As she entered the dining room ahead of him, he goosed her. She didn’t jump; but her solid buttocks tightened together and wiggled at him.

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


	HE LEANED FORWARD FOR HER NEXT LINE 1563 4D He turned toward the dining room entrance at the left end of the bar, a few steps from Ezzar‘s table. The barroom’s ornate metal front door, carved into delicate filigree, stood open to a sprawling room crowded with tables and chairs of all sizes and styles, with cluster lamps hanging like fist-sized sweetpods from tangled lightvines, glowing cream against the dim, spidery steelweb ceiling. The name for this place, Engrammatic, was another of the many andro name-jokes dredged up out of ancient human history. Andros ran Engrammatic, and called it their own, for their own; but humans came, spending money to gawk and laugh and shout at andro tricks. Grendel, looking at Ezzar, ran his fingers through the coins in his pockets, feeling their low-sculpted symbols and words. Ezzar‘s dark coloration softened her lean, deep facial features and muted the trio of scars that intersected on her left jaw. She had oiled and tied her black hair back the way he liked, with a gold chain in a tight wavy braid under one ear. She wore a segmented worksuit made of dark roughened paraleather. Her greenish-blue eyes glistened, betraying a twisting wet line of light down her face. Hurting. Time to bring her back. Grendel went to her table. “Hey, EZ,” he said, “Got some bullets to kill the beasts.” He jingled the coins and made a fierce mock-scowl. “Let’s get some food.” She looked up at him with a sad face that slowly warmed into a soft smile. He returned the look. If he flew again soon, it would have to be without her. Not likely. He took her hand in an old gesture of manners. “My lady?” She rose to her feet and responded with an extended toe and a bent knee. “Sir, I am yours.” She waited a second, and continued haughtily, “Dinner, if you wish.” She smiled; then in a sharper tone, “Who was that? Looked like a City andro. I didn’t like him.” She dabbed her eye. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you? About our job?” Her voice dropped. “It’s okay, he’s an old partner. He’s part of it — he was at the Monford meeting with me. We used to work the knife show a lot. That was before you.” Grendel waited for the jealous rejoinder he had enjoyed many times. “You’re mine. Don’t forget.” He grinned at her and said his part, “I only chase women,” and leaned forward for her next line: “But if I catch them first, I’ll skin them.” She patted the sheath at her belt and walked to the laceworked metal door. As she entered the dining room ahead of him, he goosed her. She didn’t jump; but her solid buttocks tightened together and wiggled at him.