uplift4.brightnessreef-第101节

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　　〃Jenin？〃
　　〃Would　you　prefer　her？　I　won　the　toss；　but　I'll　fetch　her　if　you　like。〃
　　〃Lena！　What　can　I　do　for　you？〃
　　Dwer　made　out　a　white　glint…her　rare　smile。
　　〃Well；　you　could　invite　me　in　from　the　cold。〃　Her　voice　sounded　soft；　almost　shy。
　　Lena　was　buxom　and　sanguinely　female；　yet　soft　and　shy　were　two　words　Dwer　had　never　linked　with　her　before。　〃Uh…sure。。。。〃　Am　I　still　dreaming？　he　wondered　as　she　slid　alongside；　strong　hands　working　to　loosen　his　clothes。　Her　smooth　skin　seemed　to　blaze　with　ardent　heat。
　　I　must　be。　The　Lena　I　know　never　smelled　this　good。
　　〃You're　all　knotted　up；〃　she　mented；　kneading　his　neck　and　back　with　uncanny；　forceful　accuracy。　At　first；　Dwer's　gasps　came　from　released　muscle　strain。　But　Lena　somehow　also　made　each　jab　or　digging　twist　of　her　calloused　fingers　seem　feminine；　erotic。
　　She　got　halfway　through　the　massage　before　Dwer　passed　his　limit　of　self…control　and　turned　over　to　gently　but　resolutely　reverse　their　positions；　taking　her　beneath　him；　repaying　her　vitality　with　a　vigor　that　welled　from　weeks　of　pent…up　tension。　Hoarded　worry　and　fatigue　seemed　to　explode　into　the　air；　into　the　forest；　into　her　as　she　clutched　and　sighed；　pulling　him　closer。
　　After。she　slipped　away；　he　pondered　muzzily…Lena　thinks　I　may　die；　since　my　job　is　to　be　up　front　in　any　fight。　This　might　be　the　last。。。　the　only　chance。。。。
　　Dwer　drifted　into　a　tranquil；　dreamless　repose…a　slumber　so　blank　and　relaxing　that　he　actually　felt　rested　by　the　time　another　warm　body　slid　into　the　bedroll　next　to　him。　By　then；　his　unconscious　had　worked　it　out；　crediting　the　women　with　ultimate　pragmatism。
　　Danel　will　probably　be　around　later；　so　it　makes　sense　to　use　whatever　I　have　to　give；　before　it's　gone。
　　It　wasn't　his　place　to　judge　the　women。　Theirs　was　the　harder　job；　here　in　the　wilderness。　His　tasks　were　simple…to　hunt；　fight；　and　if　need　be；　to　die。　Theirs　was　to　go　on；　whatever　it　took。
　　Dwer　did　not　even　have　to　rouse　all　the　way。　Nor　did　Jenin　seem　offended　that　his　body　performed　but　half　awake。　There　were　all　sorts　of　duties　to　fulfill　these　days。　If　he　was　going　to　keep　up；　he　would　simply　have　to　catch　what　rest　he　could。
　　Dwer　woke　to　find　it　already　a　midura　past　midnight。　Though　he　felt　much　better　now；　he　had　to　fight　a　languid　lethargy　to　get　dressed　and　check　his　gear…the　bow　and　quiver；　a　pass；　sketch　pad；　and　hip　canteen…then　stop　by　the　dim　coals　to　pluck　the　leaf…wrapped　package　Jenin　left　for　him　each　night；　the　one　decent　meal　he　would　eat　while　away。
　　For　most　of　his　adult　life　he　had　traveled　alone；　relishing　peace　and　solitude。　Yet；　he　had　to　admit　the　attractions　of　being　part　of　a　team；　a　munity。　Perhaps；　under　Ozawa's　guidance；　they　might　e　to　feel　like　family。
　　Would　that　take　some　of　the　bitter　sting　out　of　recalling　the　life　and　loved　ones　they　had　left　behind；　in　the　graceful　forests　of　the　Slope？
　　Dwer　was　about　to　head　off；　following　the　urrish　track　farther　in　the　direction　of　the　rising　moons；　when　a　soft　sound　made　him　pause。　Someone　was　awake　and　talking。　Yet　he　had　passed　both　women；　snoring　quietly　and　（he　liked　to　imagine）　happily。　Dwer　slipped　the　bow　off　his　shoulder；　moving　toward　the　low　speech　sounds；　more　curious　than　edgy。　Soon　he　recognized　the　murmured　whisper。
　　Of　course　it　was　Danel。　But　who　was　the　sage　talking　to？
　　Beyond　the　bole　of　a　large　tree；　Dwer　peered　into　a　small　clearing　where　satiny　moonlight　spilled　over　an　unlikely　pair。　Danel　was　kneeling　low　to　face　the　little　black　creature　called　Mudfoot。　Dwer　couldn't　make　out　words；　but　judging　from　tone　and　inflection；　Ozawa　was　trying　to　ask　it　questions；　in　one　language　after　another。
　　The　noor　responded　by　licking　itself；　then　glancing　briefly　toward　Dwer；　standing　in　the　shadows。　When　Ozawa　switched　to　GalTwo；　Mudfoot　grinned…then　twisted　to　bite　an　itch　on　one　shoulder。　When　the　beast　turned　back；　it　was　to　answer　the　sage　with　a　gaping　yawn。
　　Danel　let　out　a　soft　sigh；　as　if　he　had　expected　to　fail　but　felt　it　worth　an　effort。
　　What　effort？　Dwer　wondered。　Was　the　sage　seeking　magical　aid；　as　ignorant　lowlanders　sometimes　tried　to　do；　treating　noor　like　sprites　in　some　fairy　tale？　Did　Ozawa　hope　to　tame　Mudfoot；　the　way　hoon　sailors　did；　as　agile　helpers　on　the　river？　Few　nonhoon　had　ever　managed　that　feat。　But　even　if　it　worked；　what　use　was　one　noor　assistant？　Or　would　Dwer's　next　assignment…after　dealing　with　urrish　sooners　and　then　Rety's　band…be　to　run　back　and　collect　more　of　Mudfoot's　kind？
　　That　made　no　sense。　If　by　some　miracle　the　mons　survived；　word　would　be　sent　calling　them　all　home。　If　the　worst　happened；　they　were　to　stay　as　far　from　the　Slope　as　possible。
　　Well；　Danel　will　tell　me　what　he　wants　me　to　know。　I　just　hope　this　doesn't　mean　he's　gone　crazy。
　　Dwer　crept　away　and　found　the　urrish　trail。　He　set　off　at　a　lope　that　soon　strained　forward；　pulling　him　with　unwilled；　eagerness　to　see　what　lay　beyond　the　next　shadowy　rise。　For　the　first　time　in　days；　Dwer　felt　whole　and　strong。　It　wasn't　that　all　worries　had　vanished。　Existence　was　still　a　frail；　perilous　thing；　all　too　easily　lost。　Still；　for　this　narrow　stretch　of　time　he　pounded　onward；　feeling　vibrantly　alive。
　　
　　Rety
　　THE　DREAM　ALWAYS　ENDED　THE　SAME　WAY；　JUST　before　she　woke　shivering；　clutching　a　soft　blanket　to　her　breast。
　　She　dreamed　about　the　bird。
　　Not　as　it　appeared　the　last　time　she　had　seen　it…headless；　spread　across　Rann's　laboratory　bench　in　the　buried　station…but　as　she　recalled　first　glimpsing　the　strange　thing。　Vivid　in　motion；　with　plumage　like　glossy　forest　leaves；　alert　and　lustrous　in　a　way　that　seemed　to　stroke　her　soul。
　　As　a　child　she　had　loved　to　watch　native　birds；　staring　for　hours　at　their　swooping　dives；　envying　their　freedom　of　the　air；　their　liberty　to　take　wing；　leaving　their　troubles　far　behind。　Then　one　day　Jass　returned　from　a　long　journey　to　the　south；　bragging　about　all　the　beasts　he　had　shot。　One　had　been　a　fantastic　flying　thing　that　they　took　by　surprise　as　it　emerged　from　a　tidal　marsh。　It　barely　got　away　after　an　arrow　tore　one　wing；　flapping　off　toward　the　northwest；　leaving　behind　a　feather　harder　than　stone。
　　That　very　night；　risking　awful　punishment；　she　stole　the　stiff　metal　fragment　from　the　tent　where　the　hunters　snored；　and　with　a　pack　of　stolen　food　she　ran　off；　seeking　this　fabled　wonder　for　herself。　As　luck　had　it；　she　guessed　right　and　crossed　its　path；　spotting　the　fluttering　creature　as　it　labored　onward　with　short；　gliding　bounds。　In　a　throat…catching　instant　of　recognition；　Rety　knew　the　bird　was　like　her…wounded　by　the　same　man's　taste　for　senseless　violence。
　　Watching　it　hop…glide　ever　westward；　never　resting；　she　knew　they　shared　one　more　trait。　Persistence。
　　She　wanted　to　catch　up　with　it；　to　heal　it；　talk　to　it。　To　learn　its　source　of　power。　To　help　it　reach　its　goal。　To　help　find　its　home。　But　even　disabled；　the　bird　soon　outdistanced　her。　For　a　heart…aching　time；　she　thought　she　had　lost　it　forever。。。
　　At　that　point　of　harsh　emotion；　without　transition；　the　dream　shifted　to　another　scene。　Suddenly；　the　bird　was　right　in　front　of　her；　closer　than　ever；　fluttering　inside　a　jeweled　cage；　dodging　a　mist　of　golden；　cloying　drops。。。　then　cowering　away　from　searing　knives　of　flame！
　　Frustration　choked　Rety；　unable　to　give　aid。　Unable　to　save　it。
　　Finally；　when　all　seemed　lost；　the　bird　did　as　Rety　herself　would　have　done。　It　lashed　out　with　desperate　strength；　dying　to　bring　down　its　oppressor；　the　agent　of　its　torment。
　　For　several　nights　in　a　row　the　dream　ended　the　same　way；　with　someone's　insistent　arms　holding　her　back　in　shameful　safety　while　the　bird　fired　its　own　head　upward　toward　a　hovering；　shadowy　form。　A　dark　rival　with　dangling；　lethal　limbs。
　　It　seemed　revenge　was　going　to　be　another　of　those　things　that　didn't　turn　out　quite　the　same　in　real　life　as　she'd　imagined。
　　For　one　thing；　in　her　heart；　Rety　never　reckoned　on　Jass　taking　pain　so　well。
　　The　hunter　lay　strapped　to　a　couch　inside　the　scout　aircraft；　his　ruggedly　handsome　features　twisting　as　Kunn　kept　the　promise　he　had　made。　A　promise　Rety　regretted　a　bit　more　each　time　Jass　clamped　back　another　moan；　choking　it　behind　gritted　teeth。
　　Who　would've　thought　he'd　turn　out　to　be　brave；　she　pondered；　recalling　all　the　times　Jass　used　to　brag；　bluster；　and　harass　other　members　of　the　tribe。　Bullies　were　supposed　to　be　cowards；　or　so　one　of　the　tribe's　aged　grandfathers　used　to　mutter　when　he　was　sure　the　young　hunters　wouldn't　hear。　Too　bad　the　old　geep　would　never　know　how　wrong　he'd　been。　That　battered　patriarch　had　died　during　the　months　since　Rety　left　these　hills。
　　She　tried　steeling　her　heart　during　the　contest　of　wills　between　Kunn　and　Jass；　one　Jass　was　bound　to　lose。　You　want　to　find　out　where　the　bird　came　from；　don't　you？　she　asked　herself。　Anyway；　don't　Jass　deserve　everything　he's　getting？　Ain't　his　own　stubborn…headedness　bringing　this　on　himself？
　　Well；　in　truth；　Rety　had　played　a　role　in　stiffening　the　hunter's　resistance；　thus　extending　his　torment。　Kunn's　patient；　insistent　questions　alternated　with　grunts　of　pure　glaverlike　obstinacy