Descending Road - DAMN FLECHETTES by Dana W. Paxson

DAMN FLECHETTES

1560 4D

The back corridor for Streakrun Score fed pipes to cubbies and homes on both Streakrun and Indridge Cleft. It could only be reached by walking the entire length of the score itself, squeezing into a narrow access passage at Streakrun‘s dead end, and sidling through to where the corridor widened and returned toward East 500.

There was no light either in the access passage or the back corridor. Service agents always carried their own chemtorches to light the work they did, whether it was infoconduit testing and repair, water or sewage connection management, or power link care. I had no chemtorches with me.

I felt my way along the corridor until I spotted the green glow of a torch up ahead. I stopped. Over the drip and swash of water in the pipes came an uneven, ragged breathing.

I moved into the light. On the stone floor lay a figure swathed in blankets, its head slightly raised on an improvised pillow of several folds of cloth. It was Thringe.

I knelt beside her. Thringe‘s eyes were closed, her mouth open slightly, with a thin dribble of saliva at one corner. A dark-red, almost purple stain had spread across her cape at the neck.

I pulled back the blankets very slowly and gently, and looked at Thringe‘s body. Down the right side, from her shoulder to the top front of her thigh, a neat series of sharp cuts stitched a large dotted line in dark red: hyperflechette entry wounds. I sucked in my breath.

“Hey, Baby.” Thringe‘s husky voice wavered, and her white eyes opened, the lids heavy. “You’re in too deep, now. Go home. The others are coming.”

“No, they’re not. Some man sent them off on a chase. He tried to get me to go to the drop, but I found you instead.”

Thringe tried to shift her weight, and gritted her teeth in pain. “You had to be followed.”

“No. Some andro in the stairs told me where you were. He blocked the door and we split away.”

Thringe‘s eyes opened wide, then settled back to a half-asleep look. “Some andro? Name?”

“He wouldn’t say. Said he carried you up here. He said to tell you ‘shain haili four.’“

Thringe tried to sit up. She grunted in pain. “Stars! It was Jeddin! It had to be!” She flopped back, breaths coming in gasps, and smiled a little.

“Who’s Jeddin? Never mind, I’ve got to get you help.”

Thringe said, “No. I’ll keep, right here. But now you’ve got to do the deal for me.”

“What?”

“I can’t let it fall apart, not after all the work. The people I’m meeting don’t know me that well, so they’re suspicious, but then they won’t know you’re not me.” Her breath caught; she probed her side with a finger, squeezing her eyes shut when the tears came.

“What if they start asking questions?”

Thringe grabbed my hand in a grip stronger than Jeddin‘s. “You’ll know what to do. I’m telling you, sovvit? The person you’re meeting will be giving you big coin for a big shipment. Just so they’ll know who you are, and you them, you exchange pass phrases. They tell you where the coin is, you tell them where the shipment is. Both in code. That’s all.”

“They won’t ask me things I don’t know?”

“Not unless you act like you don’t know what you’re doing. They’ve had biopuppets used on them before, so they’ll be watching for anything strange. Ah, shit.” Thringe shifted her weight. Her expression eased. “That knifecock. I wish I’d hit him first. Damn flechettes are still in there.”

“You know who shot you?”

“He was a Gellin guy I never saw before. He just smiled and stitched me down, and disappeared.”

My mind clicked. “A Gellin Sintherou? With a low voice and a zigzag skinner on?”

“What? How did you know that?” Thringe rose onto one elbow.

“No. He was the one who sent the others off, and then he came back and told me where the directions were for the drop.”

“Ahhh, hell and shit! That was him! And you went there?”

“Yeah, at Dismarch Harren. The message told me--“

“Never mind the message! Did you put an earpiece on?”

“Yes, but I took it off.”

“Which ear?”

I pointed.

Thringe said, “Put that ear in front of my face and hold still. I’ve got to clean your ear duct out. The CIB uses this tracking coil made of biosynthetics. It stays in your ear after you pull the earpiece. They know where we are, right now.” She seized my head with one arm, and a long nail gouged my ear, driving a nail of flame into my brain.

“Aahh!”

Thringe held up a tiny limp coil of translucent tan material crazed through with hairball circuits. “If I felt better, I’d tie this to a streetrat, and we’d watch them chase it around, but we’ve got to leave right now. I can’t walk, and it’s a long way to go, and you’ve got to get to the meeting.”

“Here.” I grabbed the coil, found a beetle, looped a hairwire around the beetle’s body, and watched as it scuttled frantically into a ceiling tube. “Where do you want to go?”

“Down to Sobi, over on Hedgebreak Shell. I don’t know how you can…" Thringe bowed her head, and tried to stand, but wobbled and fell against me. “Better do it, now,” she said. “I can’t keep going much longer.”

I grabbed her before she could slump to the floor, and swept the blankets up around her. Flechette flanges were designed to force the whole thing deeper in the wound with any movement. I helped her lie down. “I’ll drag you in the blankets.”

“In the street?”

“It’ll be okay, except you’d better hold something under your head so it won’t get banged around.”

“Like that’ll matter.”

“Just do it.” I took the two corners of the bottom blanket that were under Thringe‘s feet, and knotted them through my pouch belt, at my own back. “This is the fastest way, so I’m sorry if it hurts.”

“Never mind, just hurry.”

I took the chemtorch and threw my weight forward, leaning against her weight, pulling the improvised sledge along the stone floor.

“Here are the pass phrases you need, and the information on the drop,” grunted Thringe, as she bounced over the rougher spots in the floor. “You say, ‘Gold is all over the sunrise this morning,’ and they say, ‘Water tempers hot coins.’ Repeat both for me. Aah!”

I did.

“Then you say, ‘Nine Seven Hundred Blue Carbon.’ That’s the location code for the shipment. They’ll tell you a location code. Remember it, or you won’t get your coin. Now say your part.”

The blankets slid with more ease than I thought they would, and I hauled Thringe out to the access passage. I turned. “Careful, the corner’s tight,” I said. “Nine Seven Hundred Blue Carbon.”

“Now the whole thing. Aagh.”

“Keep your arms close to your sides,” I warned. I rehearsed the exchange to myself as I dragged Thringe out to where the access passage crossed the dead end of Streakrun Score. The understreet was empty. Out in East 500, no one passed by.

“Ready?” I asked. “Wait! Where’s the meeting supposed to be? Where do I go?”

No answer. I turned, knelt, and felt the growing wet stain at Thringe‘s side. The young woman’s eyes were closed, her lips hanging open.

She’d be dead before she got down to Hedgebreak Shell. There was only one safe place nearby: home. I wondered what my father would say.

The access passage continued on the other side of Streakrun, leading to Brownhollow Score two streets away. Watching carefully, I pulled my burden across the end of the street and back into access-passage darkness. As we vanished from sight, far-off running boots pounded nearer.

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


	DAMN FLECHETTES 1560 4D The back corridor for Streakrun Score fed pipes to cubbies and homes on both Streakrun and Indridge Cleft. It could only be reached by walking the entire length of the score itself, squeezing into a narrow access passage at Streakrun‘s dead end, and sidling through to where the corridor widened and returned toward East 500. There was no light either in the access passage or the back corridor. Service agents always carried their own chemtorches to light the work they did, whether it was infoconduit testing and repair, water or sewage connection management, or power link care. I had no chemtorches with me. I felt my way along the corridor until I spotted the green glow of a torch up ahead. I stopped. Over the drip and swash of water in the pipes came an uneven, ragged breathing. I moved into the light. On the stone floor lay a figure swathed in blankets, its head slightly raised on an improvised pillow of several folds of cloth. It was Thringe. I knelt beside her. Thringe‘s eyes were closed, her mouth open slightly, with a thin dribble of saliva at one corner. A dark-red, almost purple stain had spread across her cape at the neck. I pulled back the blankets very slowly and gently, and looked at Thringe‘s body. Down the right side, from her shoulder to the top front of her thigh, a neat series of sharp cuts stitched a large dotted line in dark red: hyperflechette entry wounds. I sucked in my breath. “Hey, Baby.” Thringe‘s husky voice wavered, and her white eyes opened, the lids heavy. “You’re in too deep, now. Go home. The others are coming.” “No, they’re not. Some man sent them off on a chase. He tried to get me to go to the drop, but I found you instead.” Thringe tried to shift her weight, and gritted her teeth in pain. “You had to be followed.” “No. Some andro in the stairs told me where you were. He blocked the door and we split away.” Thringe‘s eyes opened wide, then settled back to a half-asleep look. “Some andro? Name?” “He wouldn’t say. Said he carried you up here. He said to tell you ‘shain haili four.’“ Thringe tried to sit up. She grunted in pain. “Stars! It was Jeddin! It had to be!” She flopped back, breaths coming in gasps, and smiled a little. “Who’s Jeddin? Never mind, I’ve got to get you help.” Thringe said, “No. I’ll keep, right here. But now you’ve got to do the deal for me.” “What?” “I can’t let it fall apart, not after all the work. The people I’m meeting don’t know me that well, so they’re suspicious, but then they won’t know you’re not me.” Her breath caught; she probed her side with a finger, squeezing her eyes shut when the tears came. “What if they start asking questions?” Thringe grabbed my hand in a grip stronger than Jeddin‘s. “You’ll know what to do. I’m telling you, sovvit? The person you’re meeting will be giving you big coin for a big shipment. Just so they’ll know who you are, and you them, you exchange pass phrases. They tell you where the coin is, you tell them where the shipment is. Both in code. That’s all.” “They won’t ask me things I don’t know?” “Not unless you act like you don’t know what you’re doing. They’ve had biopuppets used on them before, so they’ll be watching for anything strange. Ah, shit.” Thringe shifted her weight. Her expression eased. “That knifecock. I wish I’d hit him first. Damn flechettes are still in there.” “You know who shot you?” “He was a Gellin guy I never saw before. He just smiled and stitched me down, and disappeared.” My mind clicked. “A Gellin Sintherou? With a low voice and a zigzag skinner on?” “What? How did you know that?” Thringe rose onto one elbow. “No. He was the one who sent the others off, and then he came back and told me where the directions were for the drop.” “Ahhh, hell and shit! That was him! And you went there?” “Yeah, at Dismarch Harren. The message told me--“ “Never mind the message! Did you put an earpiece on?” “Yes, but I took it off.” “Which ear?” I pointed. Thringe said, “Put that ear in front of my face and hold still. I’ve got to clean your ear duct out. The CIB uses this tracking coil made of biosynthetics. It stays in your ear after you pull the earpiece. They know where we are, right now.” She seized my head with one arm, and a long nail gouged my ear, driving a nail of flame into my brain. “Aahh!” Thringe held up a tiny limp coil of translucent tan material crazed through with hairball circuits. “If I felt better, I’d tie this to a streetrat, and we’d watch them chase it around, but we’ve got to leave right now. I can’t walk, and it’s a long way to go, and you’ve got to get to the meeting.” “Here.” I grabbed the coil, found a beetle, looped a hairwire around the beetle’s body, and watched as it scuttled frantically into a ceiling tube. “Where do you want to go?” “Down to Sobi, over on Hedgebreak Shell. I don’t know how you can…" Thringe bowed her head, and tried to stand, but wobbled and fell against me. “Better do it, now,” she said. “I can’t keep going much longer.” I grabbed her before she could slump to the floor, and swept the blankets up around her. Flechette flanges were designed to force the whole thing deeper in the wound with any movement. I helped her lie down. “I’ll drag you in the blankets.” “In the street?” “It’ll be okay, except you’d better hold something under your head so it won’t get banged around.” “Like that’ll matter.” “Just do it.” I took the two corners of the bottom blanket that were under Thringe‘s feet, and knotted them through my pouch belt, at my own back. “This is the fastest way, so I’m sorry if it hurts.” “Never mind, just hurry.” I took the chemtorch and threw my weight forward, leaning against her weight, pulling the improvised sledge along the stone floor. “Here are the pass phrases you need, and the information on the drop,” grunted Thringe, as she bounced over the rougher spots in the floor. “You say, ‘Gold is all over the sunrise this morning,’ and they say, ‘Water tempers hot coins.’ Repeat both for me. Aah!” I did. “Then you say, ‘Nine Seven Hundred Blue Carbon.’ That’s the location code for the shipment. They’ll tell you a location code. Remember it, or you won’t get your coin. Now say your part.” The blankets slid with more ease than I thought they would, and I hauled Thringe out to the access passage. I turned. “Careful, the corner’s tight,” I said. “Nine Seven Hundred Blue Carbon.” “Now the whole thing. Aagh.” “Keep your arms close to your sides,” I warned. I rehearsed the exchange to myself as I dragged Thringe out to where the access passage crossed the dead end of Streakrun Score. The understreet was empty. Out in East 500, no one passed by. “Ready?” I asked. “Wait! Where’s the meeting supposed to be? Where do I go?” No answer. I turned, knelt, and felt the growing wet stain at Thringe‘s side. The young woman’s eyes were closed, her lips hanging open. She’d be dead before she got down to Hedgebreak Shell. There was only one safe place nearby: home. I wondered what my father would say. The access passage continued on the other side of Streakrun, leading to Brownhollow Score two streets away. Watching carefully, I pulled my burden across the end of the street and back into access-passage darkness. As we vanished from sight, far-off running boots pounded nearer.