Descending Road - JEDDIN by Dana W. Paxson

JEDDIN

1529 4D

Lost in his own mind, Jeddin walked the City streets with their arched stone ceilings. He was an andro, except he had no vat-memories, and that bothered him. Every andro was birthed from a vat, fully grown and trained for service. No childhood, either; he remembered just a bare, sudden flash, and then he’d been here in the City, and he’d just staggered to his feet and walked off, not looking back.

Since his abrupt awakening, he’d lived in the City for about seven years. He knew the main languages of the City: anjive for the andros and Clang for both humans and andros; and he moved easily among the andros and humans as if he’d always known how to do it. Give the golden and darker skinned humans lots of room and no stare, nod and chirr a greeting here and there to other andros pale like Jeddin himself, listen for commanding human voices and react quickly when they gave orders to him. Andros served humans.

But it all seemed a kind of play, or scene, and he seemed to be a player thrust in it again and again. This City held secrets even the humans didn’t know, and the Archives denied. There was the disappearing door in the street that one time. And the streetfloor inscriptions in languages no one knew.

Who had built the Cities? What were the Cities? Jeddin had demanded answers from the ainons of the Archives, and they had ignored him. It seemed that there was no past here, no future – just this repeating series of scenes in which he, Jeddin, lived roles of pain and servitude.

He remembered men who’d taken him, and shuddered. A voice recited in him: Is there more toil? / Since thou dost give me pains, / Let me remember thee what thou has promisèd, / which is not yet performed me. Some day he’d have to ask Sruddin, an andro server at Water Nest, about the ancient human dramas. Sruddin knew them all. But maybe they were just fictions of fictions, made up to hold back time and charm one’s hopes. What had he ever been promised? Only this moment.

Human women would come to him, tempted beyond self-control, running their long rich-toned fingers across his near-white skin with its delicate traceries of veins and its shadings of faint purples and blues.

Now, this night, he smiled wryly at the thought.

With the smile, his handsome young face gained a crooked daring that drew hot looks from two women passing him.

One spoke. “Andro man.” She wore a skinsuit that showed her muscular body.

He stopped and turned. “Yes?”

The other said, “Come with us. Ninety coin.” Her hair was piled high and curly on her head, and her skinsuit was a bit fuller than the other’s.

“Yes,” he said. The women looked wealthy. He turned and followed them past colorful food and clothing shops and swaying musicians to a narrow side street carved in the City‘s deep bedrock.

The woman in the lead entered the side street and beckoned to him. “Here.” She turned again and ducked into a doorway, the other woman following. The three of them entered a cubby, a room no wider or longer than Jeddin was tall, furnished only with a hard floor pad and a few cushions. A small ceiling glow lamp gave a yellow-brown tone to everything.

Jeddin‘s senses reached far outside human range. Colors? Humans, like these women, saw only one octave on the color scale, barely that much, red through violet. Andros like Jeddin saw deep into both infrared and ultraviolet, one or two octaves either side of human vision. Jeddin read off the heat in the womens’ bodies. Their bellies and deltas radiated brightly, shining through their skinsuits in the redlike tint the andros called fleyatZK.

They wasted no time. The door to the street slammed shut behind him, the two women shrugged off their suits and seized him between them, twining legs and arms around him, pressing breasts and groins against the side of his thighs. His sex responded instantly, even as his mind drifted inward to a safe place, and he slid easily from his own suit.

Standing up, they took turns, one using his man’s iron to drive her own climax, while the other one heated herself against his thrusting backside, and then they turned him and traded roles. This went on until they were both sated, and he was exhausted, and then they shrugged their suits on, tucked some coin metal in the pocket of his suit and left, talking to each other, maybe looking for another andro man to entertain them down here in the City‘s funside.

At least they hadn’t used hardware on him. And they’d paid him two hundred in metal.

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


	JEDDIN 1529 4D Lost in his own mind, Jeddin walked the City streets with their arched stone ceilings. He was an andro, except he had no vat-memories, and that bothered him. Every andro was birthed from a vat, fully grown and trained for service. No childhood, either; he remembered just a bare, sudden flash, and then he’d been here in the City, and he’d just staggered to his feet and walked off, not looking back. Since his abrupt awakening, he’d lived in the City for about seven years. He knew the main languages of the City: anjive for the andros and Clang for both humans and andros; and he moved easily among the andros and humans as if he’d always known how to do it. Give the golden and darker skinned humans lots of room and no stare, nod and chirr a greeting here and there to other andros pale like Jeddin himself, listen for commanding human voices and react quickly when they gave orders to him. Andros served humans. But it all seemed a kind of play, or scene, and he seemed to be a player thrust in it again and again. This City held secrets even the humans didn’t know, and the Archives denied. There was the disappearing door in the street that one time. And the streetfloor inscriptions in languages no one knew. Who had built the Cities? What were the Cities? Jeddin had demanded answers from the ainons of the Archives, and they had ignored him. It seemed that there was no past here, no future – just this repeating series of scenes in which he, Jeddin, lived roles of pain and servitude. He remembered men who’d taken him, and shuddered. A voice recited in him: Is there more toil? / Since thou dost give me pains, / Let me remember thee what thou has promisèd, / which is not yet performed me. Some day he’d have to ask Sruddin, an andro server at Water Nest, about the ancient human dramas. Sruddin knew them all. But maybe they were just fictions of fictions, made up to hold back time and charm one’s hopes. What had he ever been promised? Only this moment. Human women would come to him, tempted beyond self-control, running their long rich-toned fingers across his near-white skin with its delicate traceries of veins and its shadings of faint purples and blues. Now, this night, he smiled wryly at the thought. With the smile, his handsome young face gained a crooked daring that drew hot looks from two women passing him. One spoke. “Andro man.” She wore a skinsuit that showed her muscular body. He stopped and turned. “Yes?” The other said, “Come with us. Ninety coin.” Her hair was piled high and curly on her head, and her skinsuit was a bit fuller than the other’s. “Yes,” he said. The women looked wealthy. He turned and followed them past colorful food and clothing shops and swaying musicians to a narrow side street carved in the City‘s deep bedrock. The woman in the lead entered the side street and beckoned to him. “Here.” She turned again and ducked into a doorway, the other woman following. The three of them entered a cubby, a room no wider or longer than Jeddin was tall, furnished only with a hard floor pad and a few cushions. A small ceiling glow lamp gave a yellow-brown tone to everything. Jeddin‘s senses reached far outside human range. Colors? Humans, like these women, saw only one octave on the color scale, barely that much, red through violet. Andros like Jeddin saw deep into both infrared and ultraviolet, one or two octaves either side of human vision. Jeddin read off the heat in the womens’ bodies. Their bellies and deltas radiated brightly, shining through their skinsuits in the redlike tint the andros called fleyatZK. They wasted no time. The door to the street slammed shut behind him, the two women shrugged off their suits and seized him between them, twining legs and arms around him, pressing breasts and groins against the side of his thighs. His sex responded instantly, even as his mind drifted inward to a safe place, and he slid easily from his own suit. Standing up, they took turns, one using his man’s iron to drive her own climax, while the other one heated herself against his thrusting backside, and then they turned him and traded roles. This went on until they were both sated, and he was exhausted, and then they shrugged their suits on, tucked some coin metal in the pocket of his suit and left, talking to each other, maybe looking for another andro man to entertain them down here in the City‘s funside. At least they hadn’t used hardware on him. And they’d paid him two hundred in metal.