A LITTLE ANJIVE MELODY

© Dana W. Paxson 2005

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A LITTLE ANJIVE MELODY

1560 4D

A man in a large soft chair in one corner looked down at me from a book he was reading. He said to me, “You’re new here, yes?”

“Yes.” I scrambled up. “Who are you?” He was dressed in unfamiliar clothing, separate lower and upper parts, in a dark blue color.

“That will come later. You need some help right now, you and the others. Come here.” He stood up, laying the book on the low table. He was just over my height. His skin was light, almost andro, but his hair and eyes were dark. The crooked smile on his face seemed filled with sympathy.

I approached him. He held out one hand to my forehead, and touched me above my nose with one finger. The shock was so powerful that my whole body convulsed, and I fell at his feet.

“Sorry,” he said. “There’s no other way to do that quickly enough.”

“Do what?” I asked, and immediately I knew.

All the history of the andros, the bioengineered servants of humans, lay now in me as if it was part of my life. I knew my andro strength and speed, and I knew at last who Jeddin was. And I knew why Thringe couldn’t have done what I now had to do.

“You were Jeddin once,” I said to the man.

His crooked smile turned into a broad grin. “You can tell me more after you help your father. He needs you right now.”

I spun and raced through the library door, then plunged through my mind’s portal back into my body.

My father stood over me at Caladrina‘s, looking down anxiously. I winked at him. Hands pulled him roughly away. More hands seized my arms and legs, and lugged me onto my feet. A slap hit my face. “Wake up, little bitch!” My eyes opened to a broad, fleshy male face: the tall cop. “We’re going to peel that message out of you with your skin, girl. Get ready to sing us a little anjive melody.”

Thringe‘s rage exploded in me. I turned my wrists sharply and just so, and split the manacles in ruin. A loop of one foot around the leg chains, a hard kick, and they snapped. A leap (an impossible leap over the face and behind it, twisting), and the man before me went to his knees, garrotted by my manacle chains. Everyone’s movements were slow, except mine.

I knotted the chains and snapped my wrists free, leaving him gagging on his tongue, and vaulted to the nearest wall. Guns followed me, sluggishly. A beam lanced out and caught only the wall beside me.

In a few seconds, for me a little longer, I had made the area a shambles. My father stood alone in the middle of it all, his mouth gaping open. Three corpos and my interrogator lay dead. The Sintherou man lay blinking against the nearest wall, blood oozing from the shattered back of his skull. Tavenal Tain, Jannalisa and the other bluecop were gone.

Caladrina appeared, wringing his hands. “Oh, what have you done?” he said to me. “You’ll have to pay for all this!” Three of his tables and seven chairs were nothing but bent and twisted random sculptures.

“Later,” I said. My body vibrated, hyperalert. Blood dripped from my wrists and ankles where I had forced the cuffs to break. The bluecops would be coming back fast, with help. I grabbed my father’s marker and ripped it free in one hyperfast pull. He winced. Then I removed my own the same way, sending more blood flying. I flung both markers down on Caladrina‘s table, and broke my father’s bonds. “Come on, father. We’re vapor.”

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