Descending Road - HE’D WANTED TO ASK by Dana W. Paxson

HE’D WANTED TO ASK

1563 4D

Turiosten had already registered the form. Arlen! I have hoped for this. Let’s go to him.

Andrew sidestepped the beam and moved up toward Arlen in a weaving parody of the sandrukha. The big man’s eyes shone in the beamlight with mixed joy and terror, moving slightly, lagging just behind Andrew‘s path of approach. Andrew swung his gun around to point it at Arlen‘s crotch.

No. Let’s do this my way. His coverall, please.

Andrew tried to let his smile show. It came very slowly, enough so that he could float up and smile directly into the eyes of this man who had destroyed so much of his life.

Arlen‘s mouth hung open; his tongue formed some slow syllable Andrew couldn’t make out.

Descending, Andrew and Turiosten pulled away the fastenings of Arlen‘s coverall, stripped out Arlen‘s underarmor, ripped aside his stim vest with its filigree of biocircuits, and sank fingers into his skin as if the flesh were just a cloud. The liver came out slowly and easily, the heart after it, and the second heart after that. Arlen‘s beam gun floated slowly to the floor; his hands reached toward his abdomen; Andrew rammed them aside, feeling the man’s upper arms break like twigs as he pushed on them.

Too bad. He’d wanted to ask Arlen: Why? Why did you destroy me and my family? For some hidden piece of knowledge that had nothing to do with me? Was it worth all this? No answer would have been needed. Just to confront him and ask him why, that would have felt good.

But just for now, this felt better.

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


	HE’D WANTED TO ASK 1563 4D Turiosten had already registered the form. Arlen! I have hoped for this. Let’s go to him. Andrew sidestepped the beam and moved up toward Arlen in a weaving parody of the sandrukha. The big man’s eyes shone in the beamlight with mixed joy and terror, moving slightly, lagging just behind Andrew‘s path of approach. Andrew swung his gun around to point it at Arlen‘s crotch. No. Let’s do this my way. His coverall, please. Andrew tried to let his smile show. It came very slowly, enough so that he could float up and smile directly into the eyes of this man who had destroyed so much of his life. Arlen‘s mouth hung open; his tongue formed some slow syllable Andrew couldn’t make out. Descending, Andrew and Turiosten pulled away the fastenings of Arlen‘s coverall, stripped out Arlen‘s underarmor, ripped aside his stim vest with its filigree of biocircuits, and sank fingers into his skin as if the flesh were just a cloud. The liver came out slowly and easily, the heart after it, and the second heart after that. Arlen‘s beam gun floated slowly to the floor; his hands reached toward his abdomen; Andrew rammed them aside, feeling the man’s upper arms break like twigs as he pushed on them. Too bad. He’d wanted to ask Arlen: Why? Why did you destroy me and my family? For some hidden piece of knowledge that had nothing to do with me? Was it worth all this? No answer would have been needed. Just to confront him and ask him why, that would have felt good. But just for now, this felt better.