uplift4.brightnessreef-第83节

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led　out　of　her　ear。　Taine's　voice　grew　distant；　plaintive；　as　she　tossed　the　bug　back　to　the　furry　little　messenger；　who　snatched　it；　tweaking　it　between　sharp　jaws；　making　the　bug　receptive　for　Sara's　reply。
　　I'm　sorry；　she　almost　said　aloud。　I　should　have　made　allowances。　You　were　tactless；　but　meant　well；　in　your　haughty　way。
　　I　should　have　been　honored　by　your　proposal；　even　if　you　first　made　it　out　of　a　sense　of　duty。
　　I　reacted　badly　when　you　renewed　the　offer　at　Joshu's　funeral。
　　A　month　ago；　I　was　thinking　about　finally　saying　yes。　There　are　worse　lives　on　the　Slope　than　the　one　you　offered。
　　But　now　everything　had　changed。　The　aliens　had　seen　to　that。　Dwer　had　what　it　would　take　in　the　new　era　to　e。　He'd　thrive　and　sire　generations　of　fine　hunter…gatherers；　if　an　age　of　innocence　really　was　at　hand。
　　And　if　it's　death　the　aliens　have　in　mind　for　us？　Well；　Dwer　will　fool　them；　too；　and　survive。　That　thought　made　Sara　poignantly　glad。　Either　way；　what　use　will　Jijo　have　for　intellectuals　like　us；　Taine？
　　The　two　of　them　would　soon　be　more　equal　than　ever；　alike　in　useless　obsolescence；　before　the　end。
　　Sara　said　nothing　aloud。　The　messenger　ball　gave　a　stymied　squeak。　It　popped　the　bug　into　one　cheek；　then　reentered　the　tube；　vanishing　into　the　maze…work　of　conduits　that　laced　Biblos　like　a　system　of　arteries　and　veins。
　　You're　not　the　only　one。　Sara　cast　a　thought　after　the　frustrated　creature。　There's　more　than　enough　disappointment　to　go　around。
　　The　Gopher　was　already　putting　on　steam　when　Sara　hurried　to　the　dock。　Ariana　Foo　waited　nearby；　the　twilight　shrouding　her　wheelchair　so　that　she　resembled　some　human…g'Kek　hybrid。
　　〃I　wish　I　could　have　a　few　more　days　with　him；〃　she　said；　taking　Sara's　hand。
　　〃You've　done　wonders；　but　there's　no　time　to　spare。〃
　　〃The　next　kayak　pilot　may　bring　vital　news…〃
　　〃I　know。　And　I'd　give　anything　to　hear　from　Lark。　But　that　reasoning　will　only　take　us　in　circles。　If　something　urgent　happens；　you　can　send　a　galloper　after　us。　Meanwhile　I　have。。。　a　feeling　that　we'd　better　hurry。〃
　　〃More　dreams？〃
　　Sara　nodded。　For　several　nights　her　sleep　had　been　disturbed　by　ill…defined　impressions　of　alpine　fire；　then　watery　suffocation。　It　might　just　be　a　return　of　the　claustrophobia　she　felt　years　ago；　as　a　youthful　newer　under　the　overhanging　roof…of…stone。　Or　else　maybe　her　nightmares　echoed　something　real。　An　approaching　culmination。
　　Mother　believed　in　dreams；　she　recalled。　Even　as　she　drilled　into　Lark　and　me　a　love　of　books　and　science；　it　was　Dwer　whom　she　heeded；　whenever　he　woke　with　those　powerful　visions；　back　when　he　was　little…and　then　the　week　before　she　died。
　　The　steam　packet　hissed；　its　boilers　straining。　Two　dozen　donkeys　thumped　and　whinnied；　tethered　at　the　stern　alongside　sealed　crates　of　books。
　　Contrasting　strangely；　a　different　sound　came　from　the　ship's　bow。　Delicate；　melodic　music　consisting　of　parallel　chains　of　halting　notes；　somewhat　twangy。　Sara　tilted　her　head。
　　〃He's　getting　better　fast。〃
　　〃He　has　motivation；〃　the　sage　replied。　〃I　expected　him　to　choose　a　simpler　instrument；　like　a　flute　or　violus。　But　he　pulled　the　dulcimer　off　the　museum　shelf　and　seemed　to　draw　some　deep　satisfaction　out　of　counting　its　strings。　It's　simple　to　learn；　and　he　can　sing　along；　when　a　tune　spills　out　of　memory。　Anyway；　he's　fit　for　a　journey；　so〃…she　took　a　deep　breath；　looking　weary　and　old…〃give　Lester　and　the　other　High　Mucketies　my　regards；　will　you？　Tell　them　to　behave。〃
　　Sara　bent　to　kiss　Ariana's　cheek。　〃I'll　do　that。〃　The　retired　sage　gripped　her　arm　with　unexpected　strength。　〃Safe　journey；　child。　Ifni　roll　you　sixes。〃
　　〃Safe　house；〃　Sara　returned　the　blessing。　〃May　she　roll　you　long　life。〃
　　Ariana's　chimp　aide　pushed　her　upslope；　toward　the　fort　of　an　evening　fire。　It　was　being　a　habit　for　Sara　to　doubt　she　would　ever　see　someone　again。
　　The　captain　gave　the　order　to　cast　off；　guiding　his　precious　boat　gingerly　away　from　the　camouflage　shelter。　Jop　and　Ulgor　joined　Sara　at　the　rail；　along　with　several　morose…faced　librarians；　appointed　to　carry　precious　volumes　to　uncertain　safety　in　the　wilderness。　Soon　the　churning　shove　of　the　paddle　wheels　settled　to　a　reassuring　rhythm；　working　with　the　Bibur's　current　to　turn　them　downstream。
　　The　spaceman　played　along　with　focused　monomania。　Hunched　over　a　small；　wedgelike　instrument；　he　hammered　its　strings　with　two　small　curved　mallets；　faltering　often　but　radiating　passion。　The　music　laced　through　bittersweet　memory　as　Sara　watched　the　mighty　fortress　slip　by；　with　its　many…windowed　halls。　The　stone　canopy　seemed　to　hover　like　a　patient　fist　of　God。　I　wonder　if　I'll　ever　be　back。
　　Soon　they　passed　the　westernmost　edge　of　laser…cut　stone…the　mulching　grounds。　There　were　no　banners　today；　or　mourners；　or　busy　little　subtraekis　consuming　flesh；　preparing　white　bones　for　the　sea。　But　then；　amid　the　dusky　gloom；　she　did　spy　a　solitary　figure　overlooking　the　river。　Tall　and　straight…backed；　with　a　sleek　mane　of　silver…gray；　the　human　leaned　slightly　on　a　cane；　though　he　seemed　far　from　frail。　Sara's　breath　caught　as　the　gopher　swept　by。
　　Sage　Taine　nodded…a　friendly；　even　ardent　display　for　such　a　diffident　person。　Then；　to　Sara's　surprise；　he　lifted　an　arm；　in　a　gesture　of　unadorned　goodwill。
　　At　the　last　moment　she　gave　in；　raising　her　own　hand。　Peace；　she　thought。
　　Biblos　fell　behind　the　chugging　steamboat；　swallowed　by　gathering　night。　Nearby；　the　Stranger's　voice　broke　in；　singing　words　to　a　song　about　a　voyage　of　no　return。　And　while　she　knew　the　lyrics　expressed　his　own　sense　of　loss　and　poignant　transition；　they　also　rubbed；　both　sweetly　and　painfully；　against　conflicts　in　her　own　heart。
　　For　I　am　bound　beyond　the　dark　horizon；
　　And　ne'er　again　will　I　know　your　name。。。
　　
　　XXIII。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SEA
　　g'Kek　roller；　can　you　stand　and　gallop
　　across　the　heavy　ground？
　　Traeki　stack；　can　you　weave　a　tapestry；
　　or　master　the　art　of　fire？
　　Royal　qheuen；　will　you　farm　the
　　forest　heights？　Can　you　heal　with　your
　　touch？
　　Hoonish　sailor；　will　you　endure　the　plains；
　　or　spin　along　a　cable；　stretched　up　high？
　　Urrish　plainsman；　would　you　sail　to　sea；
　　or　sift　fine　pages　out　of　slurried　cloth？
　　Human　newer；　do　you　know　this　world？
　　Can　you　weave；　or　spin；　or　track　Jijo's　song？
　　Will　all　or　any　of　you　follow
　　in　the　trail　blazed　by　glavers？
　　The　Trail　of　Forgiveness
　　through　oblivion？
　　If　you　do；　save　room　to　remember
　　this　one　thing…
　　You　were　one　part　of　a　union
　　greater　than　its　parts。
　　…The　Scroll　of　the　Egg　（unofficial）
　　　
　　Alvin's　Tale
　　I　DIDN'T　BEGRUDGE　MY　POSITION　CRAMMED　WAY　back；　far　from　the　window。　At　least　not　during　the　long　descent　down　the　cliff　face　with　the　sea　looming　ever　closer；　closer。　After　all；　I'd　seen　this　part　before　and　the　others　hadn't。　But　once　we　hit　water；　and　my　friends　started　cooing　and　oohing　over　what　they　saw　through　the　bubble　up　front；　I　started　getting　a　little　resentful。　It　also　put　me　in　a　bind　as　a　writer；　faced　with　having　to　describe　the　descent　later；　to　my　readers。　At　best　I　could　see　a　bare　patch　of　blue　over　the　backs　of　my　peers。　Looking　back　on　it；　I　suppose　I　could　solve　the　problem；　in　several　ways。
　　First；　I　could　He。　I　mean；　I　haven't　decided　whether　to　turn　this　story　into　a　novel；　and　according　to　Mister　Heinz；　fiction　is　a　kind　of　lying。　In　a　later　draft　I　might　just　write　in　a　window　aft。　That　way　my　character　could　describe　all　sorts　of　things　I　only　heard　about　from　the　others。　Or　else　I　could　pretend　I　was　up　front　all　along。　In　fiction；　you　can　be　captain　if　you　want　to　be。
　　Or　maybe　I　should　rewrite　it　from　Pincer's　point　of　view。　After　all；　it　was　his　boat；　more　than　any　of　ours。　And　he　had　the　best　view　of　what　happened　next。　That　would　mean　having　to　write　believably　from　a　qheuen's　perspective。　Not　as　alien　as　a　traeki's；　I　suppose。　Still；　maybe　I'm　not　ready　to　take　on　that　kind　of　a　challenge；　just　yet。
　　All　of　this　assumes　I　live　to　do　a　rewrite；　or　that　anyone　else　survives　who　I'd　care　to　have　read　my　tale。　Anyway；　for　now；　this　semitruthful　journal　style　will　have　to　do；　and　that　means　telling　what　I　really　saw；　felt；　and　heard。
　　The　deploying　drums　transmitted　a　steady　vibration　down　the　hawser。　The　fresh　air　inlet　hissed　and　gurgled　by　my　left　ear；　so　it　was　hardly　what　I　had　pictured　as　a　serene　descent　into　the　silent　deep。　Now　and　then；　Ur…ronn　would　gasp…〃What　was　that？〃…and　Pincer　identified　some　fish；　piscoid；　or　skimmer…creatures　a　hoon　usually　saw　dead　in　a　net…catch；　and　an　urs　likely　never　glimpsed　at　all。　Still；　there　were　no　monsters　of　fantasy。　No　faery　minarets　of　undersea　cities；　either。　Not　so　far。
　　It　got　dark　pretty　fast　as　we　dropped。　Soon　all　I　made　out　were　little　streaks　of　phosphor　that　Tyug　had　smeared　in　vital　spots　around　the　cabin；　such　as　the　tips　of　my　motor　cranks；　the　depth　gauge；　and　the　ballast　release　levers。　With　nothing　to　do；　I　catalogued　the　odors　assailing　me　from　my　friends。　Familiar　aromas；　but　never　quite　so　pungent　as　now。　And　this　was　just　the　beginning。
　　A　reason　to　be　glad　no　hu