Part 15 (2/2)

”-pain the a.s.s, what I say.”

”Quit complaining so much, will you, Sidge? Gets old.”

”I suppose you like coming down here to fix s.h.i.+t that shouldn't even still be here.”

”I said-”

”Both of you shut up.”

The voices echoed round the broken maze of the compound, amplified weirdly everywhere. So at least three techs had come this time. Tussig worried at that. Four had come the first time to reseal the dispenser Raja can had jimmied. After that, only one had returned every third or fourth day. He would cuss as he reinstalled the seal, knowing perfectly well that he would have to come back when it was jimmied again. Three times he had come alone. Now there was a group again. That usually meant more than just a reseal.

”f.u.c.ken nids,” one of them said.

”I said-”

”I heard, all right!” Then: ”I just want to know why they have to break it every time.”

”They have to eat and they don't have our special tools and expertise,” another said.

”Huh! Maybe if they did, they wouldn't be nids.”

”That occurred to you, did it?”

”Hey, what's your problem-”

”Both of you shut up. I won't say it again.”

Silence, then, except for the tapping and s.h.i.+fting of work being done.

”All right,” one of them said. ”Let's clean them out now.”

”I still don't like this.”

”You like your job, don't you? Now shut up and start scouring.”

Tussig resisted the impulse to run. He pressed back against the cold wall of the drain and tried to listen more intently. His ears began to hum, a high pitched, directionless presence.

Someone shouted. Tussig jumped back from the opening of the drain pipe as if touched by a sudden current. Then he heard the distinct heavy snap of a stunner. One movement prompted another and he staggered back to the other end.

He gazed out at the river and for a few insane moments he contemplated swimming it.

”Hey!”

Tussig did not look back. He leapt from the pipe and ran up the quay. He had not explored much beyond the ruin of the factory and had no idea what lay at the far end of the crumbling pier, nor even how long it ran. He dodged the holes and larger cracks deftly, sprinting a jagged course, adrenalin carrying him effortlessly, breath loud inside his head.

He wondered later how much further he had to go when abruptly he sprawled onto the polycrete and slid, all feeling gone from his limbs. He barely felt the sc.r.a.ping across his cheek and jaw.

Stunner, he realized, trying to stand. Nothing responded. Consciousness seemed discontinuous, an on again off again phenomenon with big chunks of time cut out. That was good, in a way, since he lost all sense of duration. He ran, he fell, he waited, someone turned him over. He wondered vaguely why he was still conscious at all.

Tussig stared uncomprehendingly through the clear faceplate hovering above him at a woman-he thought it was a woman-with a wide face and small, harsh eyes. Thin lips pursed into a moue that made radiating lines around her mouth.

”One down here,” she said.

”Where?” Tussig asked.

”Shut up,” she said and prodded him with the toe of her boot. He barely felt it, somewhere along his thigh, but he was uncertain which one. She frowned. ”All right,” she said then, grumpily.

She straddled Tussig and grabbed him beneath the arms. Suddenly his head swirled sickeningly as she heaved him up, up, and across her shoulder. He found himself gazing down at the polycrete, then, as she carried him back along the pier. Distantly he felt nauseated, but he did not throw up. He knew if he were not so numb from the stunner he would, but this way he was only uncomfortable.

She turned off the pier and carried him down a narrow aisle between two relatively unbroken walls, then into another open area.

She stopped, heaved, and tossed him to the ground. He slapped the pavement across his back. Feeling was beginning to return and it almost hurt.

”Hey, careful,” someone else said. ”That's a child.”

It's a nid,” the woman said. Then: ”Or is it family, Bryce?”

”Both of you shut up,” a third voice said. ”d.a.m.n, you two are a pain to work with. Is that all of them now?”

”How should I know?” the woman snapped.

”Check!”

She hissed angrily and moved off. ”...don't we just bury 'em under the new construction, they like it here so much...”

The third tech moved away down another corridor.

”s.h.i.+t,” the one called Bryce said.

Tussig's back stung now and he could feel his legs. He blinked, realized even as he did that he had been unable to for several minutes. Tears came rapidly, shattering the clarity of his vision, and he tried to raise a hand to wipe at them.

”Take it easy,” Bryce said. ”Here.”

A big hand worked under Tussig's shoulders and pushed him up. His eyes cleared enough to see the canteen being offered. He reached for it, missed, and tried again, seizing it with both hands. He raised it carefully to his mouth and drank. After three swallows, he choked. Cold water sprayed, ran down his chin.

”Slow,” Bryce said. ”Not all your muscles will be working the same way. Give it a half an hour and you can guzzle.”

Tussig looked up at the tech. He recognized him. Heavy man, dark skin and pale green eyes. He sat beside Tussig, his helmet rolled down into the collar of his environ suit, shaven pate decorated with brilliant azure, crimson, and gold tattoos, and stared into the ruins around them.

On the ground lay two of Tussig's pars-Kess and s.h.i.+mmer-and three of his sibs-Dal, Pelu, and Roshalon, all languidly unconscious. Stunned. s.h.i.+mmer had a cut across the scalp. They had been dropped where they lay, like baggage.

Raja can and Fera were missing.

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