Descending Road - SHAIN HAILI FOUR by Dana W. Paxson

SHAIN HAILI FOUR

1560 4D

I rattled down a corkscrew stair to the Barrow Arc level, grabbed the handle to the streetdoor, and a thin, pale-mauve andro hand came over mine in a firm grip. A male tenor voice said, “Don’t go out there.” I froze and looked to my right, into the dark-brown eyes of a pale-skinned, black-haired andro. He stood a little taller than I was. His face was square-sharp and a curl of hair fell across his forehead. He grinned.

“Who are you?” I tried to pull my hand away, but he clamped down a little harder, and I winced at the pressure.

“You don’t need to know that. But I know there aren’t two Thringes, and you’re the second one I’ve seen. The first one was hurt and in bad trouble.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. This andro didn’t sound quite right. “I was just on my way to warn my friends that they’re in danger. Do you know where they are?”

He released my hand, but planted his foot against the door to the street. “She needs help right now, more than they do. They’re out there getting questioned by the blues. If the police see you there, they’ll take you in.”

“Well, where is she, then?”

“I hid her up on Streakrun Score. She’s bandaged now, and awake, but she’s in pain. Behind Number 47, in the back-corridor utility room.”

“You’re no andro,” I said. He was not acting like a slave.

“And you’re no Thringe,” he retorted. “I’m a lot more andro than you are her.”

“But how can you–”

“Shh. That’s our secret, sovvit? If you don’t find Thringe where I said, you can tell the blues everything. If you do…" He spread his arms wide, his hands empty, in a gesture of vulnerability. “If the blues see me helping her, I’ll be destroyed. That’s the law. You, that’s another matter.”

The door surged against his foot; a man outside cursed. The andro fished in a pouch of his skinsuit, brought out a narrow wedge, and kicked it firmly under the door. “Quick,” he said, “Go and tell her I said ‘shain haili four.’ I’m vapor.” He raced down the corkscrew stair four steps at a bound, and vanished.

The door moved against the wedge. I gathered my cape and leaped up the steps toward Streakrun Score.

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


	SHAIN HAILI FOUR 1560 4D I rattled down a corkscrew stair to the Barrow Arc level, grabbed the handle to the streetdoor, and a thin, pale-mauve andro hand came over mine in a firm grip. A male tenor voice said, “Don’t go out there.” I froze and looked to my right, into the dark-brown eyes of a pale-skinned, black-haired andro. He stood a little taller than I was. His face was square-sharp and a curl of hair fell across his forehead. He grinned. “Who are you?” I tried to pull my hand away, but he clamped down a little harder, and I winced at the pressure. “You don’t need to know that. But I know there aren’t two Thringes, and you’re the second one I’ve seen. The first one was hurt and in bad trouble.” “Wait a minute,” I said. This andro didn’t sound quite right. “I was just on my way to warn my friends that they’re in danger. Do you know where they are?” He released my hand, but planted his foot against the door to the street. “She needs help right now, more than they do. They’re out there getting questioned by the blues. If the police see you there, they’ll take you in.” “Well, where is she, then?” “I hid her up on Streakrun Score. She’s bandaged now, and awake, but she’s in pain. Behind Number 47, in the back-corridor utility room.” “You’re no andro,” I said. He was not acting like a slave. “And you’re no Thringe,” he retorted. “I’m a lot more andro than you are her.” “But how can you–” “Shh. That’s our secret, sovvit? If you don’t find Thringe where I said, you can tell the blues everything. If you do…" He spread his arms wide, his hands empty, in a gesture of vulnerability. “If the blues see me helping her, I’ll be destroyed. That’s the law. You, that’s another matter.” The door surged against his foot; a man outside cursed. The andro fished in a pouch of his skinsuit, brought out a narrow wedge, and kicked it firmly under the door. “Quick,” he said, “Go and tell her I said ‘shain haili four.’ I’m vapor.” He raced down the corkscrew stair four steps at a bound, and vanished. The door moved against the wedge. I gathered my cape and leaped up the steps toward Streakrun Score.