sk.thewastelands-第92节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　he　was　a　descendent　of　the　man　who　had　died　in　the　air…carriage…interesting；　but　of　no　practical　value　in　this　situation。　He　tried　to　look　beyond　the　Tick…Tock　Man；　to　see　the　rest　of　the　room　in　which　Jake　was　being　held；　and　the　people　in　it。
　　〃Ake；〃　Oy　whispered；　as　if　reminding　Roland　that　this　was　neither　the　time　nor　the　place　to　take　a　nap。
　　〃Shhh；〃　the　gunslinger　said；　not　opening　his　eyes。
　　But　it　was　no　good。　He　caught　only　blurs；　probably　because　Jake's　concentration　was　focused　so　tightly　on　the　Tick…Tock　Man；　everyone　and　everything　else　was　little　more　than　a　series　of　gray…shrouded　shapes　on　the　edges　of　Jake's　perception。
　　Roland　opened　his　eyes　again　and　pounded　his　left　fist　lightly　into　the　open　palm　of　his　right　hand。　He　had　an　idea　that　he　could　push　harder　and　see　more　。　。　。　but　that　might　make　the　boy　aware　of　his　presence。　That　would　be　dangerous。　Casher　might　smell　a　rat；　and　if　he　didn't　the　Tick…Tock　Man　would。
　　He　looked　up　at　the　narrow　ventilator　grilles；　then　down　at　Oy。　He　had　wondered　several　times　just　how　smart　he　was；　now　it　looked　as　though　he　was　going　to　find　out。
　　Roland　reached　up　with　his　good　left　hand；　slipped　his　fingers　between　the　horizontal　slats　of　the　ventilator　grille　closest　to　the　hatchway　through　which　Jake　had　been　taken；　and　pulled。　The　grille　popped　out　in　a　shower　of　rust　and　dried　moss。　The　hole　behind　it　was　far　too　small　for　a　man　。　。　。　but　not　for　a　billy…bumbler。　He　put　the　grille　down；　picked　Oy　up；　and　spoke　softly　into　his　ear。
　　〃Go　。　。　。　see　。　。　。　e　back。　Do　you　understand？　Don't　let　them　see　you。　Just　go　and　see　and　e　back。〃
　　Oy　gazed　up　into　his　face；　saying　nothing；　not　even　Jake's　name。　Roland　had　no　idea　if　he　had　understood　or　not；　but　wasting　time　in　ponderation　would　not　help　matters。　He　placed　Oy　in　the　ventilator　shaft。　The　bumbler　sniffed　at　the　crumbles　of　dried　moss；　sneezed　delicately；　then　only　crouched　there　with　the　draft　rippling　through　his　long；　silky　fur；　looking　doubtfully　at　Roland　with　his　strange　eyes。
　　〃Go　and　see　and　e　back；〃　Roland　repeated　in　a　whisper；　and　Oy　disappeared　into　the　shadows；　walking　silently；　claws　retracted；　on　the　pads　of　his　paws。
　　Roland　drew　his　gun　again　and　did　the　hardest　thing。　He　waited。
　　Oy　returned　less　than　three　minutes　later。　Roland　lifted　him　out　of　the　shaft　and　put　him　on　the　floor。　Oy　looked　up　at　him　with　his　long　neck　extended。　〃How　many；　Oy？〃　Roland　asked。　〃How　many　did　you　see？〃
　　For　a　long　moment　he　thought　the　bumbler　wouldn't　do　anything　except　go　on　staring　in　his　anxious　way。　Then　he　lifted　his　right　paw　tentatively　in　the　air；　extended　the　claws；　and　looked　at　it；　as　if　trying　to　remember　something　very　difficult。　At　last　he　began　to　tap　on　the　steel　floor。
　　One　。　。　。　two　。　。　。　three　。　。　。　four。　A　pause。　Then　two　more；　quick　and　delicate；　the　extended　claws　clicking　lightly　on　the　steel：　five；　six。　Oy　paused　a　second　time；　head　down；　looking　like　a　child　lost　in　the　throes　of　some　titanic　mental　struggle。　Then　he　tapped　his　claws　one　final　time　on　the　steel；　looking　up　at　Roland　as　he　did　it。　〃Ake！〃
　　Six。　Grays　。　。　。　and　Jake。
　　Roland　picked　Oy　up　and　stroked　him。　〃Good！〃　he　murmured　into　Oy's　ear。　In　truth；　he　was　almost　overwhelmed　with　surprise　and　grati…tude。　He　had　hoped　for　something；　but　this　careful　response　was　amaz…ing。　And　he　had　few　doubts　about　the　accuracy　of　the　count。　〃Good　boy！〃
　　〃Oy！　Ake！〃
　　Yes；　Jake。　Jake　was　the　problem。　Jake；　to　whom　he　had　made　a　promise　he　intended　to　keep。
　　The　gunslinger　thought　deeply　in　his　strange　fashion…that　bina…tion　of　dry　pragmatism　and　wild　intuition　which　had　probably　e　from　his　strange　grandmother；　Deidre　the　Mad；　and　had　kept　him　alive　all　these　years　after　his　old　panions　had　passed。　Now　he　was　depending　on　it　to　keep　Jake　alive；　too。
　　He　picked　Oy　up　again；　knowing　Jake　might　live…might…but　the　bumbler　was　almost　certainly　going　to　die。　He　whispered　several　simple　words　into　Oy's　cocked　ear；　repeating　them　over　and　over。　At　last　he　ceased　speaking　and　returned　him　to　the　ventilator　shaft。　〃Good　boy；〃　he　whispered。　〃Go　on；　now。　Get　it　done。　My　heart　goes　with　you。〃
　　〃Oy！　Art！　Ake！〃　the　bumbler　whispered；　and　then　scurried　off　into　the　darkness　again。
　　Roland　waited　for　all　hell　to　break　loose。
　　
　　　30
　　ASK　ME　A　QUESTION；　Eddie　Dean　of　New　York。　And　it　better　be　a　good　one　。　。　。　if　it's　not；　you　and　your　woman　are　going　to　die；　no　matter　where　you　came　from。
　　And；　dear　God；　how　did　you　respond　to　something　like　that？
　　The　dark　red　light　had　gone　out；　now　the　pink　one　reappeared。　〃Hurry；〃　the　faint　voice　of　Little　Blaine　urged　them。　〃He's　worse　than　ever　before　。　。　。　hurry　or　he'll　kill　you！〃
　　Eddie　was　vaguely　aware　that　flocks　of　disturbed　pigeons　were　still　swooping　aimlessly　through　the　Cradle；　and　that　some　of　them　had　smashed　headfirst　into　the　pillars　and　dropped　dead　on　the　floor。
　　〃What　does　it　want？〃　Susannah　hissed　at　the　speaker　and　the　voice　of　Little　Blaine　somewhere　behind　it。　〃For　God's　sake；　what　does　it　want？〃
　　No　reply。　And　Eddie　could　feel　any　period　of　grace　they　might　have　started　with　slipping　away。　He　thumbed　the　TALK/LISTEN　and　spoke　with　frantic　vivacity　as　the　sweat　trickled　down　his　cheeks　and　neck。
　　Ask　me　a　question。
　　〃So…Blaine！　What　have　you　been　up　to　these　last　few　years？　I　guess　you　haven't　been　doing　the　old　southeast　run；　huh？　Any　reason　why　not？　Haven't　been　feeling　up　to　snuff？〃
　　No　sound　but　the　rustle　and　flap　of　the　pigeons。　In　his　mind　he　saw　Ardis　trying　to　scream　as　his　cheeks　melted　and　his　tongue　caught　fire。
　　He　felt　the　hair　on　the　nape　of　his　neck　stirring　and　clumping　together。　Fear？　Or　gathering　electricity？
　　Hurry　。　。　。　he's　worse　than　ever　before。
　　〃Who　built　you；　anyway？〃　Eddie　asked　frantically；　thinking：　If　I　only　knew　what　the　fucking　thing　wanted！　〃Want　to　talk　about　that？　Was　it　the　Grays？　Nah　。　。　。　probably　the　Great　Old　Ones；　right？　Or　。　。　。〃
　　He　trailed　off。　Now　he　could　feel　Blaine's　silence　as　a　physical　weight　on　his　skin；　like　fleshy；　groping　hands。
　　〃What　do　you　want？〃　he　shouted。　〃Just　what　in　hell　do　you　want　to　hear？〃
　　No　answer…but　the　buttons　on　the　box　were　glowing　an　angry　dark　red　again；　and　Eddie　knew　their　time　was　almost　up。　He　could　hear　a　low　buzzing　sound　nearby…a　sound　like　an　electrical　generator…and　he　didn't　believe　that　sound　was　just　his　imagination；　no　matter　how　much　he　wanted　to　think　so。
　　〃Blaine！〃　Susannah　shouted　suddenly。　〃Blaine；　do　you　hear　me？〃
　　No　answer　。　。　。　and　Eddie　felt　the　air　was　filling　up　with　electricity　as　a　bowl　under　a　tap　fills　up　with　water。　He　could　feel　it　crackling　bitterly　in　his　nose　with　every　breath　he　took；　could　feel　his　fillings　buzzing　like　angry　insects。
　　〃Blaine；　I've　got　a　question；　and　it　is　a　pretty　good　one！　Listen！〃　She　closed　her　eyes　for　a　moment；　fingers　rubbing　frantically　at　her　temples；　and　then　opened　her　eyes　again。　〃　'There　is　a　thing　that　。　。　。　uh　。　。　。　that　nothing　is；　and　yet　it　has　a　name；　'tis　sometimes　tall　and　。　。　。　and　sometimes　short　。　。　。'　〃　She　broke　off　and　stared　at　Eddie　with　wide；　agonized　eyes。　〃Help　me！　I　can't　remember　how　the　rest　of　it　goes！〃
　　Eddie　only　stared　at　her　as　if　she　had　gone　mad。　What　in　the　name　of　God　was　she　talking　about？　Then　it　came　to　him；　and　it　made　a　weirdly　perfect　sense；　and　the　rest　of　the　riddle　clicked　into　his　mind　as　neatly　as　the　last　two　pieces　of　a　jigsaw　puzzle。　He　swung　toward　the　speaker　again。
　　〃　'It　joins　our　talks；　it　joins　our　sport；　and　plays　at　every　game。'　What　is　it？　That's　our　question；　Blaine…what　is　it？〃
　　The　red　light　illuminating　the　MAND　and　ENTER　buttons　below　the　diamond　of　numbers　blinked　out。　There　was　an　endless　moment　of　silence　before　Blaine　spoke　again　。　。　。　but　Eddie　was　aware　that　the　feeling　of　electricity　crawling　all　over　his　skin　was　diminishing。
　　〃A　SHADOW；　OF　COURSE；〃　the　voice　of　Blaine　responded。　〃AN　EASY　ONE　。　。　。　BUT　NOT　BAD。　NOT　BAD　AT　ALL。〃
　　The　voice　ing　out　of　the　speaker　was　animated　by　a　thoughtful　quality　。　。　。　and　something　else；　as　well。　Pleasure？　Longing？　Eddie　couldn't　quite　decide；　but　he　did　know　there　was　something　in　that　voice　that　reminded　him　of　Little　Blaine。　He　knew　something　else；　as　well：　Susannah　had　saved　their　bacon；　at　least　for　the　time　being。　He　bent　down　and　kissed　her　cold；　sweaty　brow。
　　〃DO　YOU　KNOW　ANY　MORE　RIDDLES？〃　Blaine　asked。
　　〃Yes；　lots；〃　Susannah　said　at　once。　〃Our　panion；　Jake；　has　a　whole　book　of　them。〃
　　〃FROM　THE　NEW　YORK　PLACE　OF　WHERE？〃　Blaine　asked；　and　now　the　tone　of　his　voice　was　perfectly　clear；　at　least　to　Eddie。　Blaine　might　be　a　machine；　but　Eddie　had　been　a　heroin　junkie　for　six　years；　and　he　knew　stone　greed　when　he　heard　it。
　　〃From　New　York；　right；〃　he　said。　〃But　Jake　has　been　taken　prisoner。　A　man　named　Gasher　took　him。〃
　　No　answer　。　。　。　and　then　the　buttons　glowed　that　faint；　rosy　pink　again。　〃Good　so　far；〃　the　voice　of　Little　Blaine　whispered。　〃But　you　must　be　careful　。　。　。　he's　tricky。　。。。〃
　　The　red　lights　reappeared　at　once。
　　〃DID　ONE　OF　YOU　SPEAK？〃　Blaine's　voice　was　cold　and…Eddie　could　have　sworn　it　was　so…suspicious。
　　He　looked　at　Susannah。　Susannah　l