Descending Road - ONE THING WORSE by Dana W. Paxson

ONE THING WORSE

1560 4D

I’m curled up, sweating and breathing hard, in a water-conduit access tunnel, two levels down from Tyrae. The hole in my coverall leg smells like scorched hair. I’ve still got three hours. Three hours to get Ma out of the slum zone, find Armana and get my money, and get Rask her money before she kills me. She’ll probably kill me anyway, if my Ma doesn’t find me first.

My comm mutters at me. I open up. “Who?”

“Remember the bugs we saw at Obergamm‘s?” Jackie B. “They laid a lot of eggs.”

“Obergamm‘s?” That numb stupid feeling keeps coming back, no matter what I do. That’s our codename for Ogi‘s. What in the Pit are they doing there?

“Yeah. Eggs, eggs, they’re hatching more bugs. The place is crawling with them.” Before I can say anything more he’s broken off.

That hatching bit wasn’t part of the code, but he probably means somebody is there along with Armana and Nadienne. I uncurl and find my way down and out to the screw stair. My lips make ugly silent words.

Ogi‘s is on a long narrow jinky street called Stang that runs from Grazamar Crossing on a tangent to where it joins Fourth Ring, an understreet that circles the City‘s long vertical axis. I come out near Grazamar and look around. Before midlight, things are quiet, a few shops are open, the narrow corridors back to living cubbies are mostly still closed. Junked furniture, discarded packing, dead vermin, ruined metal bracework from tunnels, all litter Stang Street on its left side, piled almost to its ceiling arch. I walk to the first jink, where the street angles left a bit and then goes on to where Ogi‘s used to be, on the right. As I pass the angle, Jackie B. steps out.

“My Ma been here?” I ask him.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Your Ma? No, Wire Man, but Nadienne and Squish-Armana are inside Ogi‘s.” He grins those big teeth at me. “With Georg.”

Georg? I gape. “Inside? But the place is closed, I was just by there two days ago.” And why in the Pit’s green slime did Nadienne lie about Georg?

Jackie B. shrugs. “Take a look. See you at Garnsey‘s.”

“No, wait, J.B., back me up on this one for a bit.”

“Nyeg,” he growls. “I’m tied down.” He shows me the monitor anklet with the police insignia on it. One fight and he’s in the mines, but for twenty snows, not just three like I did.

I swallow hard. “Garnsey‘s, then.”

“See me after. Vapor, Wireboy.” He’s gone.

I stare up Stang Street to where Ogi‘s is. It’s dark here — the usual ceiling strip of light is broken and dimmed in many spots — and on the right a darkened yellow sign that says OGI’S in lapscript marks a faintly-lit doorway. Blocking much of the street all along the left side slump empty hulks of hard-plast freight boxes. No shops, not even a residence access tunnel or a utility closet. Bits of shattered plast litter the street.

It’s a shooting range, with places to hide, and I don’t like it. I start moving along the right wall to the doorway, which is about fifty strides from the angle. Armana‘s beamer bumps my thigh, and the muzzle rubs the spot where it burned my knee.

I can’t figure Nadienne. She’s not the messenger type — she likes to do her sess making meals in that street kitchen up around Naga — so why is she messing with the Argaz? And the police?

About two-thirds of the way to Ogi‘s door I get that feeling, Jackie B. calls it air-talk, like when this breeze hits your neck hair and says, Pay attention.

I stop and look back. Something hard grates, like heavy fingernails scraping along the stone wall, and a bulbous head appears from past the angle. Rask has sent one of her alien gacks to follow me.

My guts loosen. I start to slide along, flat against the wall, hoping to reach the some cover before they open up, hoping that Rask will want me alive instead of cooked. As I reach the door, I look back, and now two gack heads are looking around the angle at me. They haven’t moved.

They could take me in a few seconds. I turn to look for the door handle, and the reason for their lack of movement becomes clear. Ahead of me at the next jink in Stang Street, about twenty strides away facing me and the gacks, is the pair of Argazindari I’d stopped earlier with Nadienne. They glare past me at the gacks. As I stare numbly at them, four more Argaz drift up to join them.

How enemies do accumulate. At least they’re waiting, probably going to talk over which way they want me sliced. I can only think of one thing worse, and it happens. Stumping past the Argazindari with her huge bag comes my mader.

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


	ONE THING WORSE 1560 4D I’m curled up, sweating and breathing hard, in a water-conduit access tunnel, two levels down from Tyrae. The hole in my coverall leg smells like scorched hair. I’ve still got three hours. Three hours to get Ma out of the slum zone, find Armana and get my money, and get Rask her money before she kills me. She’ll probably kill me anyway, if my Ma doesn’t find me first. My comm mutters at me. I open up. “Who?” “Remember the bugs we saw at Obergamm‘s?” Jackie B. “They laid a lot of eggs.” “Obergamm‘s?” That numb stupid feeling keeps coming back, no matter what I do. That’s our codename for Ogi‘s. What in the Pit are they doing there? “Yeah. Eggs, eggs, they’re hatching more bugs. The place is crawling with them.” Before I can say anything more he’s broken off. That hatching bit wasn’t part of the code, but he probably means somebody is there along with Armana and Nadienne. I uncurl and find my way down and out to the screw stair. My lips make ugly silent words. Ogi‘s is on a long narrow jinky street called Stang that runs from Grazamar Crossing on a tangent to where it joins Fourth Ring, an understreet that circles the City‘s long vertical axis. I come out near Grazamar and look around. Before midlight, things are quiet, a few shops are open, the narrow corridors back to living cubbies are mostly still closed. Junked furniture, discarded packing, dead vermin, ruined metal bracework from tunnels, all litter Stang Street on its left side, piled almost to its ceiling arch. I walk to the first jink, where the street angles left a bit and then goes on to where Ogi‘s used to be, on the right. As I pass the angle, Jackie B. steps out. “My Ma been here?” I ask him. He laughs and shakes his head. “Your Ma? No, Wire Man, but Nadienne and Squish-Armana are inside Ogi‘s.” He grins those big teeth at me. “With Georg.” Georg? I gape. “Inside? But the place is closed, I was just by there two days ago.” And why in the Pit’s green slime did Nadienne lie about Georg? Jackie B. shrugs. “Take a look. See you at Garnsey‘s.” “No, wait, J.B., back me up on this one for a bit.” “Nyeg,” he growls. “I’m tied down.” He shows me the monitor anklet with the police insignia on it. One fight and he’s in the mines, but for twenty snows, not just three like I did. I swallow hard. “Garnsey‘s, then.” “See me after. Vapor, Wireboy.” He’s gone. I stare up Stang Street to where Ogi‘s is. It’s dark here — the usual ceiling strip of light is broken and dimmed in many spots — and on the right a darkened yellow sign that says OGI’S in lapscript marks a faintly-lit doorway. Blocking much of the street all along the left side slump empty hulks of hard-plast freight boxes. No shops, not even a residence access tunnel or a utility closet. Bits of shattered plast litter the street. It’s a shooting range, with places to hide, and I don’t like it. I start moving along the right wall to the doorway, which is about fifty strides from the angle. Armana‘s beamer bumps my thigh, and the muzzle rubs the spot where it burned my knee. I can’t figure Nadienne. She’s not the messenger type — she likes to do her sess making meals in that street kitchen up around Naga — so why is she messing with the Argaz? And the police? About two-thirds of the way to Ogi‘s door I get that feeling, Jackie B. calls it air-talk, like when this breeze hits your neck hair and says, Pay attention. I stop and look back. Something hard grates, like heavy fingernails scraping along the stone wall, and a bulbous head appears from past the angle. Rask has sent one of her alien gacks to follow me. My guts loosen. I start to slide along, flat against the wall, hoping to reach the some cover before they open up, hoping that Rask will want me alive instead of cooked. As I reach the door, I look back, and now two gack heads are looking around the angle at me. They haven’t moved. They could take me in a few seconds. I turn to look for the door handle, and the reason for their lack of movement becomes clear. Ahead of me at the next jink in Stang Street, about twenty strides away facing me and the gacks, is the pair of Argazindari I’d stopped earlier with Nadienne. They glare past me at the gacks. As I stare numbly at them, four more Argaz drift up to join them. How enemies do accumulate. At least they’re waiting, probably going to talk over which way they want me sliced. I can only think of one thing worse, and it happens. Stumping past the Argazindari with her huge bag comes my mader.