uplift4.brightnessreef-第16部分

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ft　lapping　sound…the　sluicing　of　wooden　boards　through　gentle　liquid；　like　some　vessel　bearing　him　along　from　a　place　he　can't　remember；　toward　another　whose　name　he'll　never　learn。　It　sounds　reassuring；　this　melody；　not　like　the　sucking　clutch　of　that　awful　swamp；　where　he　had　thought　he　was　about　to　drown　at　last…
　　…as　he　so　nearly　drowned　once；　long　ago；　when　the　Old　Ones　forced　him；　screaming；　into　a　crystal　globe　they　then　filled　with　a　fluid　that　dissolved　everything　it　touched。
　　…or　as　he　once　fought　for　breath　on　that　green…green…green　world　whose　thick　air　refused　to　nourish　while　he　stumbled　on　and　on　half…blind　toward　a　fearsome　glimmering　Jophur　tower。
　　…or　the　time　his　body　and　soul　felt　pummeled；　squeezed；　unable　even　to　gasp　as　he　threaded　a　narrow　passage　that　seemed　about　to　strip　him　to　his　spine。。。　before　abruptly　spilling　him　into　a　realm　where　shining　light　stretched　on　and　on　until…
　　His　mind　rebels；　quailing　from　brief；　incoherent　images。　Fevered；　he　has　no　idea　which　of　them　are　remembered；　which　are　exaggerated；　and　which　his　damaged　brain　simply　invented　out　of　the　pitchy　stuff　of　nightmare…
　　…like　a　starship's　vapor　contrail　（water！）　cleaving　a　blue　sky　that　reminded　him　of　home。
　　…or　the　sight　of　beings　like　himself　（more　water！）　living　on　a　world　where　they　clearly　don't　belong。
　　Amid　the　chaos　of　fevered　hallucinations；　another　impression　penetrates。　Somehow　he　knows　that　it　es　from　beyond　his　delusion…from　someplace　real。　It　feels　like　a　touch；　a　stroke　of　softness　on　his　brow。　A　brush；　acpanied　by　murmurs　in　a　voice　that　soothes。　He　can　make　no　sense　of　the　words；　but　still　he　weles　the　sensation；　even　knowing　that　it　should　not　be。　Not　here。　Not　now。
　　It　is　a　fort；　that　touch；　making　him　feel　just　a　little　less　alone。
　　Eventually；　it　even　pushes　back　the　fearsome　images…the　memories　and　dreams…and　in　time　he　slips　from　delirium　into　a　quietude　of　sleep。
　　
　　V。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SEA
　　When　Judgment　es；　you　will　be　asked　about　the　dead。
　　What　living　species；　beautiful　and　unique；　exist　no　more　because　you　squatters　chose
　　a　forbidden　place　to　live？
　　And　what　of　your　own　dead？
　　Your　corpses；　cadavers；　and　remains？
　　Your　tools　and　cold…made　things？
　　How　have　you　disposed　of　them？
　　Be　righteous；　sooners　of　Jijo。
　　Show　how　hard　you　tried。
　　Make　small　the　consequences　of　your　crime。
　　＇The　offense　or　living。＇
　　Felonies…and　their　punishment…
　　can　be　made　smaller；　by　the　simple　fact
　　of　doing　less　harm。
　　…The　Scroll　of　Advice
　　　
　　Alvin's　Tale
　　THE　MOUNT　GUENN　TRAM　CLIMBS　A　STEEP　ROUTE　from　Wuphon　Port　all　the　way　up　to　the　workshops　of　Uriel　the　Smith。　The　railway　is　small　and　hard　to　see；　even　when　you're　looking　for　it。　Still；　it's　allowed　by　the　sages　only　because　it's　important　for　getting　Uriel's　forgings　down　to　market。　Also；　it　uses　no　artificial　power。　Water　from　a　hot　spring；　high　up　on　the　mountain；　pours　into　a　tank　aboard　whichever　car　is　waiting　at　the　top　station。　Meanwhile；　the　bottom　car's　tank　is　emptied；　so　it's　much　lighter；　even　with　passengers　aboard。　When　the　brake　is　cut；　the　heavier　car　starts　down；　pulling　the　cable；　which　in　turn　hauls　the　bottom　car　up。
　　It　sounds　gimmicky；　but　in　fact　it　goes　pretty　fast　and　can　even　get　scary　for　a　few　seconds　in　the　middle；　when　the　other　car　seems　to　be　rushing　right　at　you　along　the　same　set　of　slim　wooden　rails。　Then　you　reach　a　split　section　where　that　car　streaks　past　in　a　blur。　What　a　thrill！
　　It's　a　trip　of　over　forty　arrowflights；　but　the　water's　still　near　boiling　hot　in　the　first　car's　tank　when　it　reaches　bottom…one　reason　folks　like　it　when　Uriel　ships　her　wares　down　to　port　on　laundry　day。
　　Ur…ronn　says　one　piece　of　salvaged　Buyur　cable　is　what　makes　it　all　possible。　A　real　treasure　that　can't　ever　be　replaced。
　　Mount　Guenn　was　behaving　itself　that　day；　so　there　wasn't　much　ash　in　the　air　and　I　didn't　really　need　my　cloak。　Huck　wore　her　goggles　anyway；　one　strapped　over　each　eyebulb；　and　Pincer　still　had　to　spray　his　red　cupola　as　the　air　got　thinner；　and　Wuphon　turned　into　a　toy　village　under　its　blanket　of　camouflage　greenery。　Thick　stands　of　lowland　boo　soon　gave　way　to　hedgerows　of　multitrunked　gorreby　trees；　followed　by　tufts　of　feathery　shrubs　that　got　sparser　as　we　climbed。　This　was　not　red…qheuen　country。　Still；　Pincer　was　excited　over　the　news　from　Ur…ronn。
　　〃You　see？　The　window's　done！　The　last　big　piece　we　needed　for　the　bathy。　A　little　more　work　an'　it'll　be　ready…eady！〃
　　Huck　sniffed　disdainfully。　She　did　a　good　job　of　it；　too；　since　that's　one　of　those　human　gestures　you　read　about　that　we　actually　get　to　see　pretty　often；　whenever　Mister　Heinz；　our　local　schoolmaster；　hears　an　answer　he　doesn't　like。
　　〃Great；〃　Huck　remarked。　〃Whoever　rides　the　thing　can　see　whatever's　about　to　eat　him。〃
　　I　had　to　laugh。　〃Hrrrm。　So　now　you　admit　there　might　be　sea　monsters　after　all？〃
　　Huck　swiveled　three　stalks　toward　me　in　a　look　of　surprise。　It's　not　often　I　can　catch　her　like　that。
　　〃I'll　admit　I'd　want　more　than　just　a　slab　of　urrish　glass　between　me　and　whatever's　down　there；　twenty　thousand　leagues　under　the　sea！〃
　　I　confess　being　puzzled　by　her　attitude。　This　bitterness　wasn't　like　Huck　at　all。　I　tried　lightening　the　mood。
　　〃Say；　I've　always　wondered。　Has　anybody　ever　figured　out　exactly　how　long　a　league　is？〃
　　Two　of　her　eyes　gazed　at　each　other；　then　back　at　me　with　a　glint　of　whimsy。
　　〃I　looked　in　the　dictionary　once；　but　I　couldn't　fathom　the　answer。〃
　　Pincer　plained；　〃Look；　are　you　two　about　to　start…〃
　　I　interrupted；　〃If　anyone　does　know　the　answer；　I'd　sure　like　to　meter。〃
　　〃Heh！〃　Huck　made　a　thrumming　sound　with　her　spokes。　〃That's　assuming　you　could　parsec　what　she　says。〃
　　〃Hrrrm。　I　don't　know　if　I　can　take　this　furlong。〃
　　〃Oh…oh…oh…oh…oh！〃　Pincer　plained；　feigning　agony　with　all　five　mouths　at　once。
　　That's　how　we　passed　the　time　while　climbing　into　chilly　badlands　bare　of　life；　and　I　guess　it　shows　my　dad's　right　about　us　being　humickers。　But　GalTwo　and　GalSix　aren't　any　fun　for　word　games。　You　can't　pun　in　them　at　all！　You　can　in　GalSeven；　but　for　some　reason　it　just　doesn't　hurt　as　much。
　　The　mountainside　got　even　more　stark　as　we　neared　the　top；　where　steam　vents　mark　Mount　Guenn's　broad　shoulders　and　mask　the　hot　breath　of　Uriel's　forges。　Here　some　of　the　old　volcanic　spills　crystallized　in　special　ways　that　reflect　shimmering　colors；　shifting　as　your　eye　moves。　Only　a　short　journey　from　here；　the　same　kind　of　stuff　stretches　as　far　as　you　can　see　across　a　poison　plain　that's　called　the　Spectral　Flow。
　　That　day；　my　imagination　was　unhoonly　active。　I　couldn't　help　pondering　all　the　power　bubbling　away；　deep　under　the　mountain。　Nowhere　do　Jijo's　innards　churn　more　intensely　than　under　the　region　we　exiles　call　the　Slope。　We're　told　that's　why　all　the　different　ancestor…ships　planted　their　seed　in　the　same　part　of　the　planet。　And　nowhere　else　on　the　Slope　do　folks　live　in　closer　daily　contact　with　that　pent…up　power　than　my　hometown。　No　wonder　we　were　never　assigned　a　family　of　explosers　to　prepare　our　village　for　destruction。　I　guess　everyone　figures　Wuphon　will　be　blessed　by　the　volcano　anyway；　inside　the　next　hundred　years。　A　thousand　at　most。　Maybe　any　day　now。　So　why　bother？
　　We're　told　it's　proper　that　no　trace　of　our　homes　will　be　left　after　that　happens。　Still；　Jijo　can　take　her　own　sweet　time；　as　far　as　I'm　concerned。
　　Despite　dozens　of　tram　trips；　I　still　find　it　kind　of　surprising　whenever　the　car　nears　the　end　of　the　climb　and　suddenly　a　great　big　cave　seems　to　open　out　of　nowhere；　with　the　rail　heading　straight　for　it。　Maybe　it　was　all　that　earlier　talk　of　monsters；　but　this　time　I　felt　a　twirl　in　my　heart…spine　when　that　black　hollow　gaped　wide　and　we　plunged　toward　what　looked　an　awful　lot　like　a　hungry　mouth；　set　in　the　face　of　an　angry；　impulsive　mountain。
　　The　dark　stillness　inside　was　suddenly　hot　and　dry　as　dust。　Ur…ronn　waited　for　us　when　the　car　came　to　a　jarring　halt。　She　seemed　skittish；　dancing　clip…clop　with　all　four　hooves　while　her　stubby　work…arms　held　the　door　and　I　helped　Huck　roll　out　of　the　car。　Little　Huphu　rode　on　Pincer…Tip's　back；　eyes　all　aglitter；　as　if　ready　for　anything。
　　Maybe　the　noor　was　ready；　but　Huck；　Pincer；　and　I　were　thrown　pletely　off　balance　by　what　our　urrish　friend　said　at　that　point。　Ur…ronn　spoke　in　GalSix；　since　it's　easier　for　an　urs　to　speak　without　lisping。
　　〃I　am　glad　in　my　pouches　that　you；　my　friends；　could　e　so　soon。　Now　swiftly　to　Uriel's　observatory；　where　she　has；　for　several　days；　been　tracking　strange　objects　in　the　sky！〃
　　I　confess；　I　was　struck　dumb。　Like　the　others；　I　just　stared　at　her　for　several　duras。　Finally；　we　all　unfroze　at　once。
　　〃Hrrrrm；　you　can't…〃
　　〃What　do　you…〃
　　〃Surely　you　don't　mean…〃
　　Ur…ronn　stamped　her　front…left　foot。　〃I　do　mean　it！　Uriel　and　Gybz　claim　to　have　perceived　one　or　more　starships；　several　days　ago！　Moreover；　when　last　sighted；　one　or　all　of　them　seemed　poised　to　land！〃
　　
　　VI。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SLOPE
　　Legends
　　It　seems　ironic　that　most　of　Jijo's　night…time　constellations　were　named　by　humans；　the　youngest　exile　sept。　None　of　the　prior　six　had　thought　of　giving　fanciful　labels　to　groups　of　unrelated　stars；　associating　them　with　real　and　mythical　beasts。
　　The　quaint　habit　clearly　derives　from　humanity's　unique　heritage　as　an　orphaned　race…or　as　self…evolved　wolfings…who　burst　into　space　without　guidance　by　a　patron。　Every　other　sapient　species　had　such　a　mentor…as　the　hoon　had　the　Guthatsa　and　g'Keks　had　the　Droolt…an　older；　wiser　species；　ready　to　teach　a　younger　one　the　ropes。
　　But　not　humans。
　　This　lack　scarred　Homo　sapiens　in　unique　ways。
　　Countless　bizarre　notions　bloomed　among　native　Terran　cultures　during　humanity's　dark　lonely　climb。　Outtandish　ideas　that　would　never　occur　to　an　uplifted　race…one　taught　nature's　laws　from　the　very　start。　Bizarre　concepts　like　connecting　dots　in　the　sky　to　form　fictitious　creatures。
　　When　Earthlings　first　did　this　on　Jijo；　the　earlier　groups　reacted　with　surprise；　even　suspicion。　But　soon　the　practice　seemed　to　rob　the