Descending Road - THAT OLD CHAN REFLEX by Dana W. Paxson

THAT OLD CHAN REFLEX

1560 4D

Two days of skinseal treatments over in Rumchi Zone give us time to regroup. The clipgun is safe with Nadienne — she can use it if Rask send her a visitor. I’m holding Jackie B‘s old beamshooter now, standing just inside his squeeze, off Ring Six. It’s big, my hand barely fits around the worn black grip. It’s far too heavy for me to use one-handed, so I’ll practice with two hands, over in the City‘s huge rubbish bins. I slip outside and lock up. Jackie B would like very much what I’m going to do with his gun.

In the dark, I worm the infoaccess tunnel up to Rask‘s street in Naga. When I get there I whisper, “Simeon, little brother, I wish I could show you this place.” I squat and release the lock. The tunnel hatch below me cracks open into a screen of leaves. It’s over a broad street with gorgeous wall vines that curl up onto the ceiling and spill purple and violet blossoms under the striplamps. Spikefoot sparrows nest in the vines. It’s quiet up here. Rask is rich. I pull the hatch shut again. Tonight, right here, she’ll die.

Ma saved Nadienne and me, thawed us out. But she’s with Armana. Right now I don’t want to think about her. One hell at a time.

I feel in the dark tunnel for extra gripping points. Besides the conduits, rungs are all I find above the hatchdoor. I’ll have to open it when Rask comes by, drop down, target her, fire, and get back up before her cocks roast me.

She’s been tried before. Last year the Gellin Sintherou Coll nearly blew her apart, but her luck and speed got her out of range of the fuel bomb down near Tyrae. It wiped two families clean, and three shops, and started a fire that took a day to put out.

I wonder why she doesn’t worry about these tunnels. It’s as if she’s had them inspected or monitors them. Maybe I tripped something and it’s all been set up, and I’ll die right here, or she’ll trap me and fill me with her little bugs, and watch me die from the inside out.

I want a quad of pyro so badly I can feel the caps sliding down my throat.

A noise above me stops my breath. A rat? Maybe a foot? I don’t want to light a chemtorch. I lug the beamshooter up to aim above me, and whisper, “Talk.” My finger tightens.

“Tomas?” Nadienne. She’s come to back me up, but I’m afraid for her. This was my job.

“Nadienne?” I work my way up. Something’s in her voice, an odd tone, like something’s not right.

“Tomas, I brought you Essa‘s gun. Here.” Her voice is closer now, but I have to climb a few more steps. I feel for footholds. A soft click above me.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Nadienne.” This is getting complicated.

“Here, Tomas. A little higher.”

Why isn’t this right? That old Chan reflex starts to kick in, but not soon enough. I reach out, and pain stabs my arm. I can’t move.

“Tomas, it’s your turn,” she says. Her voice lowers into a purr. It’s not Nadienne. It’s Rask.

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


	THAT OLD CHAN REFLEX 1560 4D Two days of skinseal treatments over in Rumchi Zone give us time to regroup. The clipgun is safe with Nadienne — she can use it if Rask send her a visitor. I’m holding Jackie B‘s old beamshooter now, standing just inside his squeeze, off Ring Six. It’s big, my hand barely fits around the worn black grip. It’s far too heavy for me to use one-handed, so I’ll practice with two hands, over in the City‘s huge rubbish bins. I slip outside and lock up. Jackie B would like very much what I’m going to do with his gun. In the dark, I worm the infoaccess tunnel up to Rask‘s street in Naga. When I get there I whisper, “Simeon, little brother, I wish I could show you this place.” I squat and release the lock. The tunnel hatch below me cracks open into a screen of leaves. It’s over a broad street with gorgeous wall vines that curl up onto the ceiling and spill purple and violet blossoms under the striplamps. Spikefoot sparrows nest in the vines. It’s quiet up here. Rask is rich. I pull the hatch shut again. Tonight, right here, she’ll die. Ma saved Nadienne and me, thawed us out. But she’s with Armana. Right now I don’t want to think about her. One hell at a time. I feel in the dark tunnel for extra gripping points. Besides the conduits, rungs are all I find above the hatchdoor. I’ll have to open it when Rask comes by, drop down, target her, fire, and get back up before her cocks roast me. She’s been tried before. Last year the Gellin Sintherou Coll nearly blew her apart, but her luck and speed got her out of range of the fuel bomb down near Tyrae. It wiped two families clean, and three shops, and started a fire that took a day to put out. I wonder why she doesn’t worry about these tunnels. It’s as if she’s had them inspected or monitors them. Maybe I tripped something and it’s all been set up, and I’ll die right here, or she’ll trap me and fill me with her little bugs, and watch me die from the inside out. I want a quad of pyro so badly I can feel the caps sliding down my throat. A noise above me stops my breath. A rat? Maybe a foot? I don’t want to light a chemtorch. I lug the beamshooter up to aim above me, and whisper, “Talk.” My finger tightens. “Tomas?” Nadienne. She’s come to back me up, but I’m afraid for her. This was my job. “Nadienne?” I work my way up. Something’s in her voice, an odd tone, like something’s not right. “Tomas, I brought you Essa‘s gun. Here.” Her voice is closer now, but I have to climb a few more steps. I feel for footholds. A soft click above me. “You shouldn’t have come here, Nadienne.” This is getting complicated. “Here, Tomas. A little higher.” Why isn’t this right? That old Chan reflex starts to kick in, but not soon enough. I reach out, and pain stabs my arm. I can’t move. “Tomas, it’s your turn,” she says. Her voice lowers into a purr. It’s not Nadienne. It’s Rask.