Descending Road - SPRING WILLOW by Dana W. Paxson

SPRING WILLOW

1560 4D

I stay still. The pain from the eaters fries me in superheated oil, and I hang from the loop, wobbling, in the marked spot underneath the stat hemisphere, with a calm face and a broken nose. My mind slips free into the plan and the flow, and I sense Rask‘s pulse. I wait, feel the two cocks circling, count the timing of their steps, hear Rask‘s fingers brushing a datapad at my right.

“You’re trying too hard,” Rask says, her voice so gentle and smooth and urging. “Let it all go, and you’ll feel better for just a moment. Don’t you want just that one moment before you fall back into the fire? See, here it is, just let it go.”

And oh, I want to. But my mind dances with the two cocks and the datapad and Rask‘s movements, and I hang among the flames and burn with a still face. Overhead, the hemisphere begins to descend. My limbs work again, but I stay still, my face a mask. I warm my tendons and muscles with brief tensions and relaxations, twitching toward the position the Kai Ren call Grass Coil.

“The moment is yours, Tomas. Scream, little cock. I will give you a moment’s reprieve from the eaters if you do.”

My inner dance winds to its expressive place. I hold still; Rask comes and strokes my hypersensitive skin, her fingertips razoring my chest. Her left hand holds the datapad. She smiles.

Jabbing out, my right hand and arm perform Spring Willow; the shattered front panel of the datapad rips through her carotid. The suspension loop is my fulcrum; I lever myself around her big body as she clutches her neck, and I fire Jackie B‘s beamer from behind her. One two, and the two cocks grabbing for their guns fry in the beam’s blaze. They thrash, smoking, and don’t get up again. My spine seems filled with molten glass.

I sever the suspension loop with another beamshot and land on both feet. Rask sinks to her knees, blood spurting across the stat room to paint the gray stone wall.

Her eyes open very wide, staring at an invisible someone. “Sor—" and she chokes red.

Limping, I circle her, pick up a shard of the datapad, and cut her throat. She falls on her face in the red pool she has made. “Essa,” I say softly, like a Coll prayer, through my agony. I let go, scream and writhe on the slimed floor; no one comes. Staggering out, I open Rask‘s huge door to the street, half blinded and delirious, and I groan.

Hands gather me in, and a voice says, “Can you speak?”

“Yes,” I croak, “Get me to the medman down in Sobi.”

“Medman nothing. You’re going to the H-ward.” It’s a man in blue.

“Eaters,” I say, “They’re in my—" and nothing happens for a long while.

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


	SPRING WILLOW 1560 4D I stay still. The pain from the eaters fries me in superheated oil, and I hang from the loop, wobbling, in the marked spot underneath the stat hemisphere, with a calm face and a broken nose. My mind slips free into the plan and the flow, and I sense Rask‘s pulse. I wait, feel the two cocks circling, count the timing of their steps, hear Rask‘s fingers brushing a datapad at my right. “You’re trying too hard,” Rask says, her voice so gentle and smooth and urging. “Let it all go, and you’ll feel better for just a moment. Don’t you want just that one moment before you fall back into the fire? See, here it is, just let it go.” And oh, I want to. But my mind dances with the two cocks and the datapad and Rask‘s movements, and I hang among the flames and burn with a still face. Overhead, the hemisphere begins to descend. My limbs work again, but I stay still, my face a mask. I warm my tendons and muscles with brief tensions and relaxations, twitching toward the position the Kai Ren call Grass Coil. “The moment is yours, Tomas. Scream, little cock. I will give you a moment’s reprieve from the eaters if you do.” My inner dance winds to its expressive place. I hold still; Rask comes and strokes my hypersensitive skin, her fingertips razoring my chest. Her left hand holds the datapad. She smiles. Jabbing out, my right hand and arm perform Spring Willow; the shattered front panel of the datapad rips through her carotid. The suspension loop is my fulcrum; I lever myself around her big body as she clutches her neck, and I fire Jackie B‘s beamer from behind her. One two, and the two cocks grabbing for their guns fry in the beam’s blaze. They thrash, smoking, and don’t get up again. My spine seems filled with molten glass. I sever the suspension loop with another beamshot and land on both feet. Rask sinks to her knees, blood spurting across the stat room to paint the gray stone wall. Her eyes open very wide, staring at an invisible someone. “Sor—" and she chokes red. Limping, I circle her, pick up a shard of the datapad, and cut her throat. She falls on her face in the red pool she has made. “Essa,” I say softly, like a Coll prayer, through my agony. I let go, scream and writhe on the slimed floor; no one comes. Staggering out, I open Rask‘s huge door to the street, half blinded and delirious, and I groan. Hands gather me in, and a voice says, “Can you speak?” “Yes,” I croak, “Get me to the medman down in Sobi.” “Medman nothing. You’re going to the H-ward.” It’s a man in blue. “Eaters,” I say, “They’re in my—" and nothing happens for a long while.