Descending Road - PANG by Dana W. Paxson

PANG

1563 4D

Ezzar stopped running. She’d heard a blast, and she’d hit the stairwell and climbed and climbed, on uncertain legs, until she’d caught up to the young man who’d urged her to leave.

“Here,” he gasped, and they exited onto a corridor high above their starting point. A smooth stone wall faced her, a corridor ran left and right, a battered and red-smeared white steel door stood in front of her. A few people passed along the corridor. Rotting air to breathe. She pushed the door open, still panting. In a cubby, a woman lay on a high table, naked, her eyes open and staring straight at Ezzar, her chest and belly and neck flayed raggedly open, unmoving.

The woman called out hoarsely, “Ezzar?” Ezzar stared at the inert face. This woman couldn’t have spoken. Ezzar bent over the woman’s body. It said again, “Ezzar?” Ezzar jumped away, stumbling. This was crazy. The body spoke again. “Are you Ezzar? I’m Marra‘s partner. Aoriver. I’m working on this woman.”

“Marra? Who are you? Where is this?”

“I can’t talk more now. This woman needs a lot of work. If you can move, go outside and talk to Deen. She’s resting.”

The name Deen sounded familiar. In the corridor outside the cubby door a few strides away, Ezzar found two pale-skinned young women sitting together on the floor. Both wore stylish but bloodied and grimed coveralls, in light colors. One woman dozed, her close-cropped head sagging to her left; the other one, also with very short hair, lobbed small bits of gravel at the corridor lamp at the center of the corridor ceiling arch. Each fragment that hit the transparent steel lamp housing made a pang! sound. The exhausted-looking humans and andros passing by didn’t bother to look up, even when a falling bit of rock hit a head or an arm.

Ezzar reached across the dozing one and touched the other woman on the shoulder. The woman looked up at her. Ezzar said, “A talking corpse inside told me to look for Deen. Do you know who and where Deen is?”

“She’s sitting next to me.” Pang.

Ezzar bent close to the sleeper’s face. “Deen? Are you Deen?”

“That’s not a good idea.” Pang.

“Why not? Who are you?” Ezzar looked at the thrower now. Something looked familiar, maybe the flare of her nose. Pang.

The thrower looked at Ezzar and smiled. “Let’s see. You’re Arcus, aren’t you? And your grandmother made your coll sign on you. And I left the mark alone on your belly when I could have erased it, when you said, ‘No, I want that just like it is. Only get rid of the entry wound for the bullet.’" Pang.

As the woman said each fact of Ezzar‘s life, Ezzar‘s eyes opened wider, until she said, “You’re— Marra? But you were old when I met you. How— or did you get a rejuvenation in the City, like the rich people keep doing?” Ezzar walked around to sit beside Marra.

Marra started to throw another stone, then cast it aside. “There’s a lot to tell. Maybe if we get out of all this, we can sit down and share our stories.”

“Any of us who’s left.” Weariness weighed on Ezzar, and she lowered her head. Rennie was still down there — why hadn’t he followed her? And she’d turned and run. Why? She was so sick of it all, so deeply revolted by the endless struggle and loss, that she couldn’t hide it from herself. The others would have to help him. She’d done all she could.

A brawny young woman in scorched dark coveralls staggered up to them, another woman slung over her shoulder. “You got to help her, please, please. They’ve taken the hospital below.” The speaker’s face, grimed and tear-streaked, sagged with despair.

“Lay her in there,” Marra said, pointing to a nearby cubby. She panged another pebble at the lamp. “Deen! Get to work on this one!”

The woman disappeared with Deen behind her, emerged alone and without her burden, and sagged against the wall next to Ezzar. “Stars, they’ll be here next. There’s no beating them.” She ran one filthy hand through red-brown stubble on her head, stubble crisped at the ends where beams had grazed it; ash rose in a halo of motes over her skull. “Some guy blew up the lift entrance, though — gave us just time to find the next lift out. We spiked that one, so we’ve got a little time.”

‘Some guy’ — that was Rennie. Ezzar asked, “Did he get out?”

“He?” The woman looked dully at Ezzar.

“The guy who blew the lift.”

“The andro, he was. Fearsome.”

Impatient, afraid, Ezzar barked, “Yeah, him. Did he make it?”

The woman’s mouth clamped shut; then she said, “No.”

A chill gripped Ezzar. “How do you know? Were you there? He could still be there.”

“I tried to get back in to see.” The woman closed her eyes to recreate the scene, but her eyelids trembled as if she wanted to open them again, overcome the remembrance. “A big arch of the ceiling had fallen in. All I saw was his hand. It was wet and bloody. The rest of him was under maybe fifty tons of stone. I got some rock off his arm and that’s all I could do because there was shooting in the stair and Belasine got hit and I grabbed her and ran west and got the lift. He’s dead.”

And Ezzar had run away. She gripped herself and curled into a tight ball on the floor. If only she’d waited and gone in after he’d fired, she could have dug him out and he’d have been here with her and Marra could—

“Ezzar.”

—and now he was gone and she’d lost the best thing she’d ever had, thrown it away like a toy. But this woman couldn’t have known, maybe she missed something, maybe he was still down there waiting for her. She scrambled to her feet.

“Ezzar.”

“I’ve got to get down there and get him—“

“Ezzar!” Finally Marra‘s voice registered. “Listen to her. He’s dead. The aliens are there. You can’t go down there.”

“I’ll get him out. I’ll get him out. Shit, I ran away and I’ve got to—“

Arms circled her as her sobs began. She clawed at the tender new skin of her face; hands took her wrists, and she let them hold her encased between their two bodies while her breath lurched in and out. Her body reacted all on its own, shaking, reeling, going limp and tensing in cycles, laboring to deliver itself of her long and heavy horror.

Her mind drew back, watching from a great distance her body clench and unclench. Rennie was gone. Now that the thing she had feared for so long had actually happened, nothing came up in her, nothing: no rage, no sadness. Just like when Boren had died. Nothing. Her body settled as she stood between Marra and the other woman. She counted her heartbeats, matching them to footfalls passing by. “I’m,” she said.

“Yes?” Marra prompted her.

“I ran away. He needed me and I ran away.”

The two women let go of her. “Did you love him?” Marra asked.

“I loved him.” Into Ezzar‘s mind came a pine grove, and a bed of needles; she shoved the thought from her mind. Not now. Just like before, work to be done. She drew herself up straighter and looked for her gear.

The other woman said, “Who’s gonna help Belasine? Fucking place. Wish she’d never talked me into coming from Drevill.”

“Go and stay with her,” Marra said. “Help’s on the way.”

An alarm started its call; shouts erupted at the end of the corridor. Ezzar started to cry.

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


	PANG 1563 4D Ezzar stopped running. She’d heard a blast, and she’d hit the stairwell and climbed and climbed, on uncertain legs, until she’d caught up to the young man who’d urged her to leave. “Here,” he gasped, and they exited onto a corridor high above their starting point. A smooth stone wall faced her, a corridor ran left and right, a battered and red-smeared white steel door stood in front of her. A few people passed along the corridor. Rotting air to breathe. She pushed the door open, still panting. In a cubby, a woman lay on a high table, naked, her eyes open and staring straight at Ezzar, her chest and belly and neck flayed raggedly open, unmoving. The woman called out hoarsely, “Ezzar?” Ezzar stared at the inert face. This woman couldn’t have spoken. Ezzar bent over the woman’s body. It said again, “Ezzar?” Ezzar jumped away, stumbling. This was crazy. The body spoke again. “Are you Ezzar? I’m Marra‘s partner. Aoriver. I’m working on this woman.” “Marra? Who are you? Where is this?” “I can’t talk more now. This woman needs a lot of work. If you can move, go outside and talk to Deen. She’s resting.” The name Deen sounded familiar. In the corridor outside the cubby door a few strides away, Ezzar found two pale-skinned young women sitting together on the floor. Both wore stylish but bloodied and grimed coveralls, in light colors. One woman dozed, her close-cropped head sagging to her left; the other one, also with very short hair, lobbed small bits of gravel at the corridor lamp at the center of the corridor ceiling arch. Each fragment that hit the transparent steel lamp housing made a pang! sound. The exhausted-looking humans and andros passing by didn’t bother to look up, even when a falling bit of rock hit a head or an arm. Ezzar reached across the dozing one and touched the other woman on the shoulder. The woman looked up at her. Ezzar said, “A talking corpse inside told me to look for Deen. Do you know who and where Deen is?” “She’s sitting next to me.” Pang. Ezzar bent close to the sleeper’s face. “Deen? Are you Deen?” “That’s not a good idea.” Pang. “Why not? Who are you?” Ezzar looked at the thrower now. Something looked familiar, maybe the flare of her nose. Pang. The thrower looked at Ezzar and smiled. “Let’s see. You’re Arcus, aren’t you? And your grandmother made your coll sign on you. And I left the mark alone on your belly when I could have erased it, when you said, ‘No, I want that just like it is. Only get rid of the entry wound for the bullet.’" Pang. As the woman said each fact of Ezzar‘s life, Ezzar‘s eyes opened wider, until she said, “You’re— Marra? But you were old when I met you. How— or did you get a rejuvenation in the City, like the rich people keep doing?” Ezzar walked around to sit beside Marra. Marra started to throw another stone, then cast it aside. “There’s a lot to tell. Maybe if we get out of all this, we can sit down and share our stories.” “Any of us who’s left.” Weariness weighed on Ezzar, and she lowered her head. Rennie was still down there — why hadn’t he followed her? And she’d turned and run. Why? She was so sick of it all, so deeply revolted by the endless struggle and loss, that she couldn’t hide it from herself. The others would have to help him. She’d done all she could. A brawny young woman in scorched dark coveralls staggered up to them, another woman slung over her shoulder. “You got to help her, please, please. They’ve taken the hospital below.” The speaker’s face, grimed and tear-streaked, sagged with despair. “Lay her in there,” Marra said, pointing to a nearby cubby. She panged another pebble at the lamp. “Deen! Get to work on this one!” The woman disappeared with Deen behind her, emerged alone and without her burden, and sagged against the wall next to Ezzar. “Stars, they’ll be here next. There’s no beating them.” She ran one filthy hand through red-brown stubble on her head, stubble crisped at the ends where beams had grazed it; ash rose in a halo of motes over her skull. “Some guy blew up the lift entrance, though — gave us just time to find the next lift out. We spiked that one, so we’ve got a little time.” ‘Some guy’ — that was Rennie. Ezzar asked, “Did he get out?” “He?” The woman looked dully at Ezzar. “The guy who blew the lift.” “The andro, he was. Fearsome.” Impatient, afraid, Ezzar barked, “Yeah, him. Did he make it?” The woman’s mouth clamped shut; then she said, “No.” A chill gripped Ezzar. “How do you know? Were you there? He could still be there.” “I tried to get back in to see.” The woman closed her eyes to recreate the scene, but her eyelids trembled as if she wanted to open them again, overcome the remembrance. “A big arch of the ceiling had fallen in. All I saw was his hand. It was wet and bloody. The rest of him was under maybe fifty tons of stone. I got some rock off his arm and that’s all I could do because there was shooting in the stair and Belasine got hit and I grabbed her and ran west and got the lift. He’s dead.” And Ezzar had run away. She gripped herself and curled into a tight ball on the floor. If only she’d waited and gone in after he’d fired, she could have dug him out and he’d have been here with her and Marra could— “Ezzar.” —and now he was gone and she’d lost the best thing she’d ever had, thrown it away like a toy. But this woman couldn’t have known, maybe she missed something, maybe he was still down there waiting for her. She scrambled to her feet. “Ezzar.” “I’ve got to get down there and get him—“ “Ezzar!” Finally Marra‘s voice registered. “Listen to her. He’s dead. The aliens are there. You can’t go down there.” “I’ll get him out. I’ll get him out. Shit, I ran away and I’ve got to—“ Arms circled her as her sobs began. She clawed at the tender new skin of her face; hands took her wrists, and she let them hold her encased between their two bodies while her breath lurched in and out. Her body reacted all on its own, shaking, reeling, going limp and tensing in cycles, laboring to deliver itself of her long and heavy horror. Her mind drew back, watching from a great distance her body clench and unclench. Rennie was gone. Now that the thing she had feared for so long had actually happened, nothing came up in her, nothing: no rage, no sadness. Just like when Boren had died. Nothing. Her body settled as she stood between Marra and the other woman. She counted her heartbeats, matching them to footfalls passing by. “I’m,” she said. “Yes?” Marra prompted her. “I ran away. He needed me and I ran away.” The two women let go of her. “Did you love him?” Marra asked. “I loved him.” Into Ezzar‘s mind came a pine grove, and a bed of needles; she shoved the thought from her mind. Not now. Just like before, work to be done. She drew herself up straighter and looked for her gear. The other woman said, “Who’s gonna help Belasine? Fucking place. Wish she’d never talked me into coming from Drevill.” “Go and stay with her,” Marra said. “Help’s on the way.” An alarm started its call; shouts erupted at the end of the corridor. Ezzar started to cry.