“Quickly.”
Athena cut a path across the center of the room. Twice more, she stopped Denny as they waited for cithians to pass, but Denny felt so bad he barely looked up. Finally, they reached the outer wall again. Denny looked around, expecting to see a door nearby, but there were only all the pipes and ducts and wires.
The green woman raised her stone hand to point at a dark gray handle set nearly flush with the dark gray wall. “Pull this down,” she said,
Denny stumbled forward. On his first attempt, the cloth-wrapped fingers of his left hand slipped from the handle, but when he tried again it came down. With a slight whoosh of moving air, a small opening appeared on the wall. It was barely as tall as Denny's knees and maybe twice as wide as his shoulders.
“Crawl through there and you'll be outside,” said Athena. Her stone eyes studied Denny's face. “Please cease use of the automation nexus immediately to avoid permanent damage.”
Denny nodded wearily. His head was splitting, his limbs aching, his stomach rolling over and over. He almost wished the cithians would catch him. Carefully, he tucked his hand into the many folds of cloth over his stomach, then released the maton. At once, he felt a little better. But only a little.
He got down on his knees and looked into the low tunnel. It was short. He would have to take off the plastic shell and drag it behind him, but he could see the bright purplish light of Pairsday shining through the other end of the tunnel.
With a groan, Denny got down on his knees and unstrapped the shell. Moving only a hand at a time, he made his escape through the tunnel. He could feel the compact weight of the maton hidden in the folds of cloth. He hoped it was worth it.
20
whetsday
On Whetsday, Denny learned the truth about the cithians, about the humans, and about his father.
It was only after he had reached the outside of the tunnel that Denny realized that the eyepad shields were still somewhere back inside. Not only that, but the rest of his disguise was tattered and stained. There seemed little chance it would fool a cithian now at any distance.
Denny rolled over, leaning against the outside of the dome-shaped building, and began to unwind the long roll of heavy cloth. It took him a long time to get most of his costume removed, and all the while he expected to see a cithian or dasik come around the building, but finally he stood up and brushed away as much of the dust and grime that was clinging to him as possible. He thought about carrying away his disguise, but a human going through the city with a moltling shell in one hand seemed like a bad idea. Instead he piled all the extra clothing into a heap and placed the shell over it. He shoved the whole mess back into the short tunnel. The dark color of the shell was a good match for the dim light in the tunnel, and it was a long way to either door, so Denny could only hope that it would be some time before someone looked inside. A longer time before someone found the disguise. A really long time before anyone thought that it might have actually been a human inside the building.
With the silver maton carefully wrapped in an old shirt, Denny walked away from the building and angled back to the street. A few cithians saw him as he was rejoining the main road, and one of them drummed out a warning, but Denny didn't think it was anything more than the way he was usually treated as a human out in the city. He lowered his head, gave the cithians plenty of room, and kept walking. Anyway, he still felt all kinds of awful. Like he’d been hit by a road ferry. Or two.
By the time he passed by the old gate and stepped into the human quarter, the blue and red suns had finished their spiraling path through Pairsday and begun moving toward the same point in the bleached white sky. It was Whetsday again.
Denny felt more than a little hungry, but it didn't matter much because he was so
Athena cut a path across the center of the room. Twice more, she stopped Denny as they waited for cithians to pass, but Denny felt so bad he barely looked up. Finally, they reached the outer wall again. Denny looked around, expecting to see a door nearby, but there were only all the pipes and ducts and wires.
The green woman raised her stone hand to point at a dark gray handle set nearly flush with the dark gray wall. “Pull this down,” she said,
Denny stumbled forward. On his first attempt, the cloth-wrapped fingers of his left hand slipped from the handle, but when he tried again it came down. With a slight whoosh of moving air, a small opening appeared on the wall. It was barely as tall as Denny's knees and maybe twice as wide as his shoulders.
“Crawl through there and you'll be outside,” said Athena. Her stone eyes studied Denny's face. “Please cease use of the automation nexus immediately to avoid permanent damage.”
Denny nodded wearily. His head was splitting, his limbs aching, his stomach rolling over and over. He almost wished the cithians would catch him. Carefully, he tucked his hand into the many folds of cloth over his stomach, then released the maton. At once, he felt a little better. But only a little.
He got down on his knees and looked into the low tunnel. It was short. He would have to take off the plastic shell and drag it behind him, but he could see the bright purplish light of Pairsday shining through the other end of the tunnel.
With a groan, Denny got down on his knees and unstrapped the shell. Moving only a hand at a time, he made his escape through the tunnel. He could feel the compact weight of the maton hidden in the folds of cloth. He hoped it was worth it.
20
whetsday
On Whetsday, Denny learned the truth about the cithians, about the humans, and about his father.
It was only after he had reached the outside of the tunnel that Denny realized that the eyepad shields were still somewhere back inside. Not only that, but the rest of his disguise was tattered and stained. There seemed little chance it would fool a cithian now at any distance.
Denny rolled over, leaning against the outside of the dome-shaped building, and began to unwind the long roll of heavy cloth. It took him a long time to get most of his costume removed, and all the while he expected to see a cithian or dasik come around the building, but finally he stood up and brushed away as much of the dust and grime that was clinging to him as possible. He thought about carrying away his disguise, but a human going through the city with a moltling shell in one hand seemed like a bad idea. Instead he piled all the extra clothing into a heap and placed the shell over it. He shoved the whole mess back into the short tunnel. The dark color of the shell was a good match for the dim light in the tunnel, and it was a long way to either door, so Denny could only hope that it would be some time before someone looked inside. A longer time before someone found the disguise. A really long time before anyone thought that it might have actually been a human inside the building.
With the silver maton carefully wrapped in an old shirt, Denny walked away from the building and angled back to the street. A few cithians saw him as he was rejoining the main road, and one of them drummed out a warning, but Denny didn't think it was anything more than the way he was usually treated as a human out in the city. He lowered his head, gave the cithians plenty of room, and kept walking. Anyway, he still felt all kinds of awful. Like he’d been hit by a road ferry. Or two.
By the time he passed by the old gate and stepped into the human quarter, the blue and red suns had finished their spiraling path through Pairsday and begun moving toward the same point in the bleached white sky. It was Whetsday again.
Denny felt more than a little hungry, but it didn't matter much because he was so
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