cb.imajica1-第61部分

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　〃Why　would　I　want　to　forget？〃　he　said。
　Pie　looked　back　along　the　line。　The　distance　was　obscured　by　dust；　but　there　were　glimpses　through　it　of　a　clear　sky。
　〃Well？〃　said　Gentle。
　〃Maybe　because　remembering　hurts　too　much；〃　it　said；　without　looking　around。
　The　words　were　even　uglier　to　Gentle's　ear　than　the　reply　that　had　preceded　it。　He　caught　the　sense；　but　only　with　difficulty。
　〃Stop　this；〃　he　said。
　〃Stop　what？〃
　〃Talking　in　that　damn…fool　way。　It　turns　my　gut。〃
　〃I'm　not　doing　anything；〃　the　mystif　said；　its　voice　still　distorted；　but　now　more　subtly。　〃Trust　me。　I'm　doing　nothing。〃
　〃So　tell　me　about　the　pneuma；〃　Gentle　said。　〃I　want　to　know　how　1　came　by　a　power　like　that。〃
　Pie　started　to　reply；　but　this　time　the　words　were　so　badly　disfigured；　and　the　sound　itself　so　ugly；　it　was　like　a　fist　in　Gentle's　stomach；　stirring　the　stew　there。
　〃Jesus！〃　he　said；　rubbing　his　belly　in　a　vain　attempt　to　soothe　the　churning。　〃Whatever　you're　playing　at…〃
　〃It's　not　me；〃　Pie　protested。　〃It's　you。　You　don't　want　to　hear　what　I'm　saying。〃
　〃Yes；　I　do；〃　Gentle　said；　wiping　beads　of　chilly　sweat　from　around　his　mouth。　〃I　want　answers。　I　want　straight　answers！〃
　Grimly；　Pie　started　to　speak　again；　but　immediately　the　waves　of　nausea　climbed　Gentle's　gut　with　fresh　zeal。　The　pain　in　his　belly　was　sufficient　to　bend　him　double；　but　he　was　damned　if　the　mystif　was　going　to　keep　anything　from　him。　It　was　a　matter　of　principle　now。　He　studied　Pie's　lips　through　narrowed　eyes；　but　after　a　few　words　the　mystif　stopped　speaking。
　〃Tell　me！〃　Gentle　said；　determined　to　have　Pie　obey　him　even　if　he　could　make　no　sense　of　the　words。　〃What　have　I　done　that　I　want　to　forget　so　badly？　Tell　me！〃
　Its　face　all　reluctance；　the　mystif　once　again　opened　its　mouth。　The　words；　when　they　came；　were　so　hopelessly　corrupted　Gentle　could　barely　grasp　a　fraction　of　their　sense。　Something　about　power。　Something　about　death。
　Point　proved；　he　waved　the　source　of　this　excremental　din　away　and　turned　his　eyes　in　search　of　a　sight　to　calm　his　belly。　But　the　scene　around　him　was　a　convention　of　little　horrors：　a　graveolent　making　its　wretched　nest　beneath　the　rails；　the　perspective　of　the　track；　snatching　his　eye　into　the　dust；　the　dead　zarzi　at　his　feet；　its　egg　sac　split；　spattering　its　unborn　onto　the　stone。　This　last　image；　vile　as　it　was；　brought　food　to　mind。　The　harbor　meal　in　Yzordderrex：　fish　within　fish　within　fish；　the　littlest　filled　with　eggs。　The　thought　defeated　him。　He　tottered　to　the　edge　of　the　platform　and　vomited　onto　the　rails；　his　gut　convulsing。　He　didn't　have　that　much　in　his　belly；　but　the　heaves　went　on　and　on　until　his　abdomen　ached　and　tears　of　pain　ran　from　his　eyes。　At　last　he　stepped　back　from　the　platform　edge；　shuddering。　The　smell　of　his　stomach　was　still　in　his　nostrils；　but　the　spasms　were　steadily　diminishing。　From　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　saw　Pie　approach。
　〃Don't　e　near　me！〃　he　said。　〃I　don't　want　you　touching　me！〃
　He　turned　his　back　on　the　vomit　and　its　cause　and　retired　to　the　shade　of　the　waiting　room；　sitting　down　on　the　hard　wood　bench；　putting　his　head　against　the　wall；　and　closing　his　eyes。　As　the　pain　eased　and　finally　disappeared；　his　thoughts　turned　to　the　purpose　behind　Pie's　assault。　He'd　quizzed　the　mystif　several　times　over　the　past　four　and　a　half　months　about　the　problem　of　power：　how　it　was　e　by　and…more　particularly…how　he；　Gentle；　had　e　to　possess　it。　Pie's　replies　had　been　oblique　in　the　extreme；　but　Gentle　hadn't　felt　any　great　urge　to　get　to　the　bottom　of　the　question。　Perhaps　subconsciously　he　hadn't　really　wanted　to　know。　Classically；　such　gifts　had　consequences；　and　he　was　enjoying　his　role　as　getter　and　wielder　of　power　too　much　to　want　it　spoiled　with　talk　of　hubris。　He'd　been　content　to　be　fobbed　off　with　hints　and　equivocation；　and　he　might　have　continued　to　be　content；　if　he　hadn't　been　irritated　by　the　zarzi　and　the　lateness　of　the　L'Himby　train；　bored　and　ready　for　an　argument。　But　that　was　only　half　the　issue。　He'd　pressed　the　mystif；　certainly；　but　he'd　scarcely　goaded　it。　The　attack　seemed　out　of　all　proportion　to　the　offense。　He'd　asked　an　innocent　question　and　been　turned　inside　out　for　doing　so。　So　much　for　all　that　loving　talk　in　the　mountains。
　〃Gentle。　。　。〃
　〃Fuck　you。〃
　〃The　train；　Gentle。　。　。〃
　〃What　about　it？〃
　〃It's　ing。〃
He　opened　his　eyes。　The　mystif　was　standing　in　the　doorway；　looking　forlorn。
　〃I'm　sorry　that　had　to　happen；〃　it　said。
　〃It　didn't　have　to；〃　Gentle　said。　〃You　made　it　happen。〃
　〃Truly　I　didn't。〃
　〃What　was　it　then？　Something　I　ate？〃
　〃No。　But　there　are　some　questions…〃
　〃That　make　me　sick。〃
　〃…that　have　answers　you　don't　want　to　hear。〃
　〃What　do　you　take　me　for？〃　Gentle　said；　his　tone　all　quiet　contempt。　〃I　ask　a　question；　you　fill　my　head　with　so　much　shit　for　an　answer　that　I　throw　up；　and　then　it's　my　fault　for　asking　in　the　first　place？　What　kind　of　fucked…up　logic　is　that？〃
　The　mystif　raised　its　hands　in　mock　surrender。　〃I'm　not　going　to　argue；〃　it　said。
　〃Damn　right；〃　Gentle　replied。
　Any　further　exchange　would　have　been　impractical　anyway；　with　the　sound　of　the　train's　approach　steadily　getting　louder；　and　its　arrival　being　greeted　by　cheers　and　clapping　from　an　audience　that　had　gathered　on　the　platform。　Still　feeling　delicate　when　he　stood；　Gentle　followed　Pie　out　into　the　crowd。
　It　seemed　half　the　inhabitants　of　Mai…ke　had　e　down　to　the　station。　Most；　he　assumed；　were　sightseers　rather　than　potential　travelers；　the　train　a　distraction　from　hunger　and　unanswered　prayers。　There　were　some　families　here　who　planned　to　board；　however；　pressing　through　the　crowd　with　their　luggage。　What　privations　they'd　endured　to　purchase　their　escape　from　Mai…ke　could　only　be　imagined。　There　was　much　sobbing　as　they　embraced　those　they　were　leaving　behind；　most　of　whom　were　old　folk；　who　to　judge　by　their　grief　did　not　expect　to　see　their　children　and　grandchildren　again。　The　journey　to　L'Himby；　which　for　Gentle　and　Pie　was　little　more　than　a　jaunt；　was　for　them　a　departure　into　memory。
　That　said；　there　could　be　few　more　spectacular　means　of　departure　in　the　Imajica　than　the　massive　lootive　which　was　only　now　emerging　from　a　cloud　of　evaporating　steam。　Whoever　had　made　blueprints　for　this　roaring；　glistening　machine　knew　its　earth　counterpart…the　kind　of　lootives　outdated　in　the　West　but　still　serving　in　China　and　India…very　well。　Their　imitation　was　not　so　slavish　as　to　suppress　a　certain　decorative　joie　de　vivre…it　had　been　painted　so　gaudily　it　looked　like　the　male　of　the　species　in　search　of　a　mate…but　beneath　the　daubings　was　a　machine　that　might　have　steamed　into　King's　Cross　or　Marylebone　in　the　years　following　the　Great　War。　It　drew　six　carriages　and　as　many　freight　vehicles　again；　two　of　the　latter　being　loaded　with　the　flock　of　sheep。
　Pie　had　already　been　down　the　line　of　carriages　and　was　now　ing　back　towards　Gentle。
　〃The　second。　It's　fuller　down　the　other　end。〃
　They　got　in。　The　interiors　had　once　been　lush；　but　usage　had　taken　its　toll。　Most　of　the　seats　had　been　stripped　of　both　padding　and　headrests；　and　some　were　missing　backs　entirely。　The　floor　was　dusty；　and　the　walls…which　had　once　been　decorated　in　the　same　riot　as　the　engine…were　in　dire　need　of　a　fresh　coat　of　paint。　There　were　only　two　other　occupants；　both　male；　both　grotesquely　fat；　and　both　wearing　frock　coats　from　which　elaborately　bound　limbs　emerged；　lending　them　the　look　of　clerics　who'd　escaped　from　an　accident　ward。　Their　features　were　minuscule；　crowded　in　the　center　of　each　face　as　if　clinging　together　for　fear　of　drowning　in　fat。　Both　were　eating　nuts；　cracking　them　in　their　pudgy　fists　and　dropping　little　rains　of　pulverized　shell　on　the　floor　between　them。
　〃Brothers　of　the　Boulevard；〃　Pie　remarked　as　Gentle　took　a　seat；　as　far　from　the　nut…crackers　as　possible。
　Pie　sat　across　the　aisle　from　him；　the　bag　containing　what　few　belongings　they'd　accrued　to　date　alongside。　There　was　then　a　long　delay；　while　recalcitrant　animals　were　beaten　and　cajoled　into　boarding　for　what　they　perhaps　knew　was　a　ride　to　the　slaughterhouse　and　those　on　the　platform　made　their　final　farewells。　It　wasn't　just　the　vows　and　tears　that　came　in　through　the　windows。　So　did　the　stench　of　the　animals；　and　the　inevitable　zarzi；　though　with　the　Brothers　and　their　meal　to　attract　them　the　insects　were　uninterested　in　Gentle's　flesh。
　Wearied　by　the　hours　of　waiting　and　wrung　out　by　his　nausea；　Gentle　dozed　and　finally　fell　into　so　deep　a　sleep　that　the　train's　long…delayed　departure　didn't　stir　him；　and　when　he　woke　two　hours　of　their　journey　had　already　passed。　Very　little　had　changed　outside　the　window。　Here　were　the　same　expanses　of　gray…brown　earth　that　had　stretched　around　Mai…ke；　clusters　of　dwellings；　built　from　mud　in　times　of　water　and　barely　distinguishable　from　the　ground　they　stood　upon；　dotted　here　and　there。　Occasionally　they　would　pass　a　plot　of　land…either　blessed　with　a　spring　or　better　irrigated　than　the　ground　around　it…from　which　life　was　rising；　even　more　occasionally　saw　workers　bending　to　reap　a　healthy　crop。　But　generally　the　scene　was　just　as　Hairstone　Banty　had　predicted。　There　would　be　many　hours　of　dead　land；　she'd　said；　then　they　would　travel　through　the　Steppes；　and　over　the　Three　Rivers；　to　the　province　of　Bern；　of　which　L'Himby　was　the　capital　city。　Gentle　had　doubted　her　petence　at　the　time　（she'd　been　smoking　a　weed　too　pungent　to　be　simply　pleasurable；　and　wearing　something　unseen　elsewhere　in　the　town：　a　smile）　but　dope　fiend　or　no；　she　knew　her　geography。
　As　they　traveled；　Gentle's　thoughts　turned　once　again　to　the　origins　of　the　power　Pie　had　somehow　awakened　in　him。　If；　as　he　suspected；　the　mystif　had　touched　a　hitherto　passive　portion　of　his　mind　and　given　him　access　to　capabilities　dormant　in　all　human　beings；　why　was　it　so　damned　reluctant　to　admit　the　fact？　Hadn't　Gentle　proved　in　the　mountains　that　he　was　more　than　willing　to　accept　the　notion　of　mind　embracing　mind？　Or　was　that　co…mingling　now　an　embarrassment　to　the　mystif；　and　its　assault　on　the　platform　a　way　to　reestablish　a　distance　between　them？　If　so；　it　had　succeeded。　They　traveled　half　a　day　without　exchanging　a　single　word。
　In　the