sk.thewastelands-第89节

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　　He　looked　at　Susannah；　who　nodded　and　made　frantic　motions　for　him　to　go　on。
　　〃We're　on　a　quest。　We　seek　the　Dark　Tower　which　lies　in　the　Path　of　the　Beam。　We're　in　the　pany　of　two　others；　Roland　of　Gilead　and　。　。　。　and　Jake　of　New　York。　We're　from　New　York　too。　If　you're…〃　He　paused　for　a　moment；　biting　back　the　words　Big　Blaine。　If　he　used　them；　he　might　make　the　intelligence　behind　the　voice　aware　that　they　had　heard　another　voice；　a　ghost　inside　the　ghost；　so　to　speak。
　　Susannah　gestured　again　for　him　to　go　on；　using　both　hands。
　　〃If　you're　Blaine　the　Mono　。　。　。　well　。。。　we　want　you　to　take　us。〃
　　He　released　the　button。　There　was　no　response　for　what　seemed　like　a　very　long　time；　only　the　agitated　flutter　of　the　disturbed　pigeons　from　overhead。　When　Blaine　spoke　again；　his　voice　came　only　from　the　speaker…box　mounted　on　the　gate　and　sounded　almost　human。
　　〃DO　NOT　TRY　MY　PATIENCE。　ALL　THE　DOORS　TO　THAT　WHERE　ARE　CLOSED。　GILEAD　IS　NO　MORE；　AND　THOSE　KNOWN　AS　GUNSLINGERS　ARE　ALL　DEAD。　NOW　ANSWER　MY　QUESTION：　WHO　ARE　YOU？　THIS　IS　YOUR　LAST　CHANCE。〃
　　There　was　a　sizzling　sound。　A　ray　of　brilliant　blue…white　light　lanced　down　from　the　ceiling　and　seared　a　hole　the　size　of　a　golf…ball　in　the　marble　floor　less　than　five　feet　to　the　left　of　Susannah's　wheelchair。　Smoke　that　smelled　like　the　aftermath　of　a　lightning…bolt　rose　lazily　from　it。　Susannah　and　Eddie　stared　at　each　other　in　mute　terror　for　a　moment；　and　then　Eddie　lunged　for　the　municator…box　and　thumbed　the　button。
　　〃You're　wrong！　We　did　e　from　New　York！　We　came　through　the　doors；　on　the　beach；　only　a　few　weeks　ago！〃
　　〃It's　true！〃　Susannah　called。　〃I　swear　it　is！〃
　　Silence。　Beyond　the　long　barrier；　Blaine's　pink　back　humped　smoothly。　The　window　at　the　front　seemed　to　regard　them　like　a　vapid　glass　eye。　The　wiper　could　have　been　a　lid　half…closed　in　a　sly　wink。
　　〃PROVE　IT；〃　Blaine　said　at　last。
　　〃Christ；　how　do　I　do　that？〃　Eddie　asked　Susannah。
　　〃I　don't　know。〃
　　Eddie　pushed　the　button　again。　〃The　Statue　of　Liberty！　Does　that　ring　a　bell？〃
　　〃GO　ON；〃　Blaine　said。　Now　the　voice　sounded　almost　thoughtful。
　　〃The　Empire　State　Building！　The　Stock　Exchange！　The　World　Trade　Center！　Coney　Island　Red…Hots！　Radio　City　Music　Hall！　The　East　Vil…〃
　　Blaine　cut　him　off　。　。　。　and　now；　incredibly；　the　voice　which　came　from　the　speaker　was　the　drawling　voice　of　John　Wayne。
　　〃OKAY；　PILGRIM。　I　BELIEVE　YOU。〃
　　Eddie　and　Susannah　shared　another　glance；　this　one　of　confusion　and　relief。　But　when　Blaine　spoke　again；　the　voice　was　again　cold　and　emotionless。
　　〃ASK　ME　A　QUESTION；　EDDIE　DEAN　OF　NEW　YORK。　AND　IT　BETTER　BE　A　GOOD　ONE。〃　There　was　a　pause；　and　then　Blaine　added：　〃BECAUSE　IF　IT'S　NOT；　YOU　AND　YOUR　WOMAN　ARE　GOING　TO　DIE；　NO　MATTER　WHERE　YOU　CAME　FROM。〃
　　Susannah　looked　from　the　box　on　the　gate　to　Eddie。　〃What's　it　talking　about？〃　she　hissed。
　　Eddie　shook　his　head。　〃I　don't　have　the　slightest　idea。〃
　　
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　　To　JAKE；　THE　ROOM　Gasher　dragged　him　into　looked　like　a　Minuteman　missile　silo　which　had　been　decorated　by　the　inmates　of　a　lunatic　asylum：　part　museum；　part　living　room；　part　hippie　crash　pad。　Above　him；　empty　space　vaulted　up　to　a　rounded　ceiling　and　below　him　it　dropped　seventy…five　or　a　hundred　feet　to　a　similarly　rounded　base。　Running　all　around　the　single　curved　wall　in　vertical　lines　were　tubes　of　neon　in　alternating　strokes　of　color：　red；　blue；　green；　yellow；　orange；　peach；　pink。　These　long　tubes　came　together　in　roaring　rainbow　knots　at　the　bottom　and　top　of　the　silo　。。。　if　that　was　what　it　had　been。
　　The　room　was　about　three…quarters　of　the　way　up　the　vast　capsule…shaped　space　and　floored　with　rusty　iron　grillework。　Rugs　that　looked　Turkish　（he　later　learned　that　such　rugs　were　actually　from　a　barony　called　Kashmin）　lay　on　the　grilled　floor　here　and　there。　Their　corners　were　held　down　with　brass…bound　trunks　or　standing　lamps　or　the　squat　legs　of　over…stuffed　chairs。　If　not；　they　would　have　flapped　like　strips　of　paper　tied　to　an　electric　fan；　because　a　steady　warm　draft　rushed　up　from　below。　Another　draft；　this　one　issuing　from　a　circular　band　of　venti…lators　like　the　ones　in　the　tunnel　they　had　followed　here；　swirled　about　four　or　five　feet　above　Jake's　head。　On　the　far　side　of　the　room　was　a　door　identical　to　the　one　through　which　he　and　Gasher　had　entered；　and　Jake　assumed　it　was　a　continuation　of　the　subterranean　corridor　following　the　Path　of　the　Beam。
　　There　were　half　a　do/en　people　in　the　room；　four　men　and　two　women。　Jake　guessed　that　he　was　looking　at　the　Gray　high　mand…if；　that　was；　there　were　enough　Grays　left　to　warrant　a　high　mand。　None　of　them　were　young；　but　all　were　still　in　the　prime　of　their　lives。　They　looked　at　Jake　as　curiously　as　he　looked　at　them。
　　Sitting　in　the　center　of　the　room；　with　one　massive　leg　thrown　casu…ally　over　the　arm　of　a　chair　big　enough　to　be　a　throne；　was　a　man　who　looked　like　a　cross　between　a　Viking　warrior　and　a　giant　from　a　child's　fairy…tale。　His　heavily　muscled　upper　body　was　naked　except　for　a　silver　band　around　one　bicep；　a　knife…scabbard　looped　over　one　shoulder；　and　a　strange　charm　about　his　neck。　His　lower　body　was　clad　in　soft；　tight…fitting　leather　breeches　which　were　tucked　into　high　boots。　He　wore　a　yellow　scarf　tied　around　one　of　these。　His　hair；　a　dirty　gray…blonde；　cas…caded　almost　to　the　middle　of　his　broad　back；　his　eyes　were　as　green　and　curious　as　the　eyes　of　a　tomcat　who　is　old　enough　to　be　wise　but　not　old　enough　to　have　lost　that　refined　sense　of　cruelty　which　passes　for　fun　in　feline　circles。　Hung　by　its　strap　from　the　back　of　the　chair　was　what　looked　like　a　very　old　machine…gun。
　　Jake　looked　more　closely　at　the　ornament　on　the　Viking's　chest　and　saw　that　it　was　a　coffin…shaped　glass　box　hung　on　a　silver　chain。　Inside　it；　a　tiny　gold　clock…face　marked　the　time　at　five　minutes　past　three。　Below　the　face；　a　tiny　gold　pendulum　went　back　and　forth；　and　despite　the　soft　whoosh　of　circulating　air　from　above　and　below；　he　could　hear　the　tick…tock　sound　it　made。　The　hands　of　the　clock　were　moving　faster　than　they　should　have　done；　and　Jake　was　not　very　surprised　to　see　that　they　were　moving　backward。
　　He　thought　of　the　crocodile　in　Peter　Pan；　the　one　that　was　always　chasing　after　Captain　Hook；　and　a　little　smile　touched　his　lips。　Gasher　saw　it；　and　raised　his　hand。　Jake　cringed　away；　putting　his　own　hands　to　his　face。
　　The　Tick…Tock　Man　shook　his　finger　at　Gasher　in　an　amusing　school…marmish　gesture。　〃Now；　now　。。。　no　need　of　that；　Gasher；〃　he　said。
　　Gasher　lowered　his　hand　at　once。　His　face　had　changed　pletely。　Before；　it　had　alternated　between　stupid　rage　and　a　species　of　cunning；　almost　existential　humor。　Now　he　only　looked　servile　and　adoring。　Like　the　others　in　the　room　（and　Jake　himself）；　the　Gasherman　could　not　look　away　from　Tick…Tock　for　long；　his　eyes　were　drawn　inexorably　back。　And　Jake　could　understand　why。　The　Tick…Tock　Man　was　the　only　person　here　who　seemed　wholly　vital；　wholly　healthy；　and　wholly　alive。
　　〃If　you　say　there's　no　need；　there　ain't；〃　Gasher　said；　but　he　favored　Jake　with　a　dark　look　before　shifting　his　eyes　back　to　the　blonde　giant　on　the　throne。　〃Still；　he's　wery　pert；　Ticky。　Wery　pert；　Ticky。　Wery　pert　indeed；　so　he　is；　and　if　you　want　my　opinion；　he'll　take　a　deal　of　training！〃
　　〃When　I　want　your　opinion；　I'll　ask　for　it；　the　Tick…Tock　Man　said。　〃Now　close　the　door；　Cash…was　yon　lx》re　in　a　barn？〃
　　A　dark…haired　woman　laughed　shrilly；　a　sound　like　the　caw　of　a　crow。　Tick…Tock　flicked　his　eyes　toward　her；　she　quieted　at　once　and　cast　her　eyes　down　to　the　grilled　floor。
　　The　door　through　which　Gasher　had　dragged　him　was　actually　two　doors。　The　arrangement　reminded　Jake　of　the　way　spaceship　airlocks　looked　in　the　more　intelligent　science　fiction　movies。　Gasher　shut　them　both　and　turned　to　Tick…Tock；　giving　him　a　thumbs…up　gesture。　The　Tick…Tock　Man　nodded　and　reached　languidly　up　to　press　a　button　set　into　a　piece　of　furniture　that　looked　like　a　speaker's　podium。　A　pump　began　to　cycle　wheezily　within　the　wall；　and　the　neon　tubes　dimmed　perceptibly。　There　was　a　faint　hiss　of　air　and　the　valve…wheel　of　the　inside　door　spun　shut。　Jake　supposed　the　one　in　the　outer　door　was　doing　the　same。　This　was　some　sort　of　bomb…shelter；　all　right；　no　doubt　of　that。　When　the　pump　died；　the　long　neon　tubes　resumed　their　former　muted　brilliance。
　　〃There；〃　Tick…Tock　said　pleasantly。　His　eyes　began　to　look　Jake　up　and　down。　Jake　had　a　clear　and　very　unfortable　sense　of　being　expertly　catalogued　and　filed。　〃All　safe　and　sound；　we　are。　Snug　as　bugs　in　a　rug。　Right；　Hoots？〃
　　〃Yar！〃　a　tall；　skinny　man　in　a　black　suit　replied　promptly。　His　face　was　covered　with　some　sort　of　rash　which　he　scratched　obsessively。
　　〃I　brung　him；〃　Gasher　said。　〃I　told　yer　you　could　trust　me　to　do　it；　and　didn't　I？〃
　　〃You　did；〃　Tick…Tock　said。　〃Bang　on。　I　had　some　doubts　about　your　ability　to　remember　the　password　at　the　end；　there；　but…〃
　　The　dark…haired　woman　uttered　another　shrill　caw。　The　Tick…Tock　Man　half…turned　in　her　direction；　that　lazy　smile　dimpling　the　corners　of　his　mouth；　and　before　Jake　was　able　to　grasp　what　was　happening…what　had　already　happened…she　was　staggering　backward；