Descending Road - GENESIGN by Dana W. Paxson

GENESIGN

1560 4D

Who was this Gellin Sintherou cock? He had to be corpo, or City working for a corp. It was very late, in the few hours before the day began to build again and more traffic would fill the understreets. Where were the people who’d come running to find Thringe and me? The Thringe makeup was about as inconspicuous as a toxgas attack. As I waited near the door, wondering whether to leave or not, light, fast footsteps sounded from East 500, up at the end of Brownhollow Score.

I backed quickly into the entrance, fumbled for the door, opened it, and backed inside, closing it nearly all the way and peering out.

“What is it?” My father’s voice. Still looking out through the crack of the door, I waved a hand behind me to shush him.

Three men raced past the entranceway toward East 500 so fast I had to block an urge to jump and slam the door. They were mid-color of skin, with dark hair and feral eyes. The Hounds: andro hunters. They’d been looking for Thringe, and I’d nearly led them to her.

I closed the door again, and turned to my father, still bent over Thringe. “They sent andro hunters.”

He looked up for a second, tossing aside a tiny, spread-eagled flechette he’d just extracted from Thringe‘s body. “You’d better wait a few minutes, then leave. Do you know the conduit tunnels down from here?”

I nodded. It would be tight, but there was a way down from where I’d found Thringe. It let out on East 540.

“Do us all one favor,” my father added. “Right now, before you go, take some chlor, and spray the street where you were, all the way to 500 and all the way to the other end. Now, before the Hounds come back through.”

“Why?”

“Genesign. They’ll be back, sniffing, and I don’t want them coming here. Don’t waste time, and get to your meeting. Hurry!” He went back to work.

“How is she?”

“Never mind! Go!”

I dug out the chlor sprayer, wrapped Thringe‘s cloak around me, and sidled out the back way. After one fast, terrified pass up and down Brownhollow on both sides, I tossed the sprayer in to my father, raced for the conduit tunnel in the cross passage. As I shut the door, he muttered, “Damn!” and a tiny clink marked the removal of another flechette from Thringe‘s body.

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


	GENESIGN 1560 4D Who was this Gellin Sintherou cock? He had to be corpo, or City working for a corp. It was very late, in the few hours before the day began to build again and more traffic would fill the understreets. Where were the people who’d come running to find Thringe and me? The Thringe makeup was about as inconspicuous as a toxgas attack. As I waited near the door, wondering whether to leave or not, light, fast footsteps sounded from East 500, up at the end of Brownhollow Score. I backed quickly into the entrance, fumbled for the door, opened it, and backed inside, closing it nearly all the way and peering out. “What is it?” My father’s voice. Still looking out through the crack of the door, I waved a hand behind me to shush him. Three men raced past the entranceway toward East 500 so fast I had to block an urge to jump and slam the door. They were mid-color of skin, with dark hair and feral eyes. The Hounds: andro hunters. They’d been looking for Thringe, and I’d nearly led them to her. I closed the door again, and turned to my father, still bent over Thringe. “They sent andro hunters.” He looked up for a second, tossing aside a tiny, spread-eagled flechette he’d just extracted from Thringe‘s body. “You’d better wait a few minutes, then leave. Do you know the conduit tunnels down from here?” I nodded. It would be tight, but there was a way down from where I’d found Thringe. It let out on East 540. “Do us all one favor,” my father added. “Right now, before you go, take some chlor, and spray the street where you were, all the way to 500 and all the way to the other end. Now, before the Hounds come back through.” “Why?” “Genesign. They’ll be back, sniffing, and I don’t want them coming here. Don’t waste time, and get to your meeting. Hurry!” He went back to work. “How is she?” “Never mind! Go!” I dug out the chlor sprayer, wrapped Thringe‘s cloak around me, and sidled out the back way. After one fast, terrified pass up and down Brownhollow on both sides, I tossed the sprayer in to my father, raced for the conduit tunnel in the cross passage. As I shut the door, he muttered, “Damn!” and a tiny clink marked the removal of another flechette from Thringe‘s body.