|
|
blog || home || biblio || bio || excerpts || reviews || apolune |
|
|
Excerpts Watertight Lies "You know who has good air conditioning? Banks have good air conditioning." Pete was hanging upside down from the cave roof, lowering the monitoring jack into the pool below. Though 'pool' was probably too generous a description. Further back on the roof, Gabrielle took a more traditional approach to the problem of hanging upside-down. She was spread-eagled on the roof, alternatively tipping her head to watch Pete's progress, and more frequently leaning her forehead on the cool rock above her. She took deep, concentrated breaths and her hands were fists lined up either side of her ears. Pete often said if they gave him a desk job, he'd wither and die. Gabe would've killed for a desk job. "I worked in a bank once," she said. "Yeah? Did they have good air conditioning?" "Mostly they saved it for the customers." "Well, those two-faced, snake-rat-bastards," said Pete calmly. "What'd you do there?" It was how they checked in on each other, this bland back-and-forth, making sure no one was panicking in the confined quarters of the cave where the water (twelve feet below) glowed green under their cap lights, and the rest of the cave was so thick with blackness you could almost chew it. "Cleaner," said Gabe. "Dyslexia, again." Pete's light wobbled as he pulled the jack free and wrenched it back up towards him. "Man, you got a bum steer with that dyslexia. I thought they could treat that?" "Yeah, yeah," Gabe bit back on a pulse of nausea. "Trouble is, I get so freaked out whenever I have to take an exam." "Sucks," observed Pete. "Three canisters. Enough for a good sampling. Head up?" Gabe pulled her head back towards the roof before realising he meant 'head to the surface'. "Hell, yeah, let's do it," she said.
|
|
|
blog || home || biblio || bio || excerpts || reviews || apolune
deborahbiancotti.net |
|
| rousNOSPAM@deborahbiancotti.net |