On Whetsday by Mark Sumner Page A

use it. You've surprised them.”
    “Surprised who?” asked Denny.
    Athena raised a hand to her mouth and her eyes widened, then... something happened. Her lips moved, but no sound was produced. Her face and her arm jerked from one position to another in an instant, and she was again looking at Denny with a smile.
    He started to ask her again, but just then the sound of cithians moving through the big space returned. From the sound, Denny could tell it was more than one cithian moving his way. At least two. Maybe more. They were coming slowly, and as they approached he heard a slight groan of metal, the sound of something being slid out of the way. The cithians were checking the shelves.
    Denny put one hand on the floor and pulled a little more of himself out into the aisle. “Can you help me?” he asked, speaking as quietly as he could.
    She knelt down next to him, the edge of her strange stone robe settling over her knees. “I'm sorry,” she said, “but my physical interactions are strictly limited.” Denny guessed that meant that she couldn’t help.
    There was most noise from off to Denny's left. More footsteps, and more grating noises of moving boxes. The cithians were no more than two shelves away, and perhaps closer. “Can you tell me how to get out of here?” he asked. “Without being caught?”
    Athena's expression remained just the same. “I can direct your actions toward the path most likely to lead to success,” she said. She turned her head for a moment, apparently looking toward the tower at the center of the room. “I am interfacing with the automation nexus for this facility.”
    “Won't they catch you?”
    “No,” she said simply. After a few seconds, Athena gave an abrupt nod and turned back to Denny. “Come out now,” she said.
    Denny heaved his way free of the shelves. He could hear the cithians still working their way toward him, and it was difficult to get out without making noise, especially while still holding onto the maton. Athena stood over him as he twisted and wormed his way onto the floor.
    “Alacrity is desirable,” she said.
    “What?”
    “Move faster.”
    Denny made it out from between the shelves and boxes, and struggled to his feet, stepping on one of his own fake feet in the process and almost falling onto his face. Finally, he was standing.
    “This way,” said the green woman. “Follow me.”
    She headed down the aisle at a fast walk. Denny could hear the slap, slap of her sandals on the floor, but he had to assume that, like her voice, it was a sound made only for him. He was surprised by how tired he felt as he walked after her. The disguise still made him clumsy, but it was more than that. His legs and arms felt weighted down. The plastic shell felt like it was made of thick metal.
    “Stop,” Athena said suddenly. She raised a hand, and when Denny ran into it he was surprised that he actually felt something, like a slight, but real, pressure against his skin.
    From down the aisle, a dark figure moved. A shape flicked toward Denny for a second, then was gone.
    “Continue.” Athena started moving again, walking even faster than before. Denny struggled to keep up.
    He was feeling worse at every step. His head swam. His stomach lurched. “I think I'm going to be sick,” he said, speaking louder than he probably should.
    Athena turned to look at him with stony smile still in place. “You are feeling the result of prolonged use of the automation nexus. I suggest you stop using the device now to avoid long-term damage.”
    Denny nodded. He looked at the ball in his hand. His hand was shaking. “How will I talk to you when I put it down?” he asked.
    “Communication is impossible without the nexus to mediate,” said the green woman. “I'm sorry.”
    Denny swayed on his feet. If he put the maton down, he wouldn't have Athena to show him out, but if he held on, he might soon be too sick to move. “Get me out of here,” he whispered to her.