uplift4.brightnessreef-第44部分

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　　〃Interesting。　Very　interesting；〃　Ariana　murmured。
　　〃I　fail　to　understand；〃　the　doctor　sighed。　〃Does　this　mean　he　is　from　off…Jijo　or　not？〃
　　〃It　is　too　soon　to　tell；　I　fear。〃　She　shook　her　head。　〃But　let's　say　it　turns　out　he　is　from　the　Five　Galaxies？　If　the　forayers　are　seeking　a　mislaid　confederate；　and　we　have　him　in　hand　to　offer　in　trade；　it　might　work　to　our　advantage。〃
　　〃Now　just　a　darn…〃　Sara　began；　but　the　older　human　only　continued；　thinking　aloud。
　　〃Alas；　his　reaction　isn't　one　I'd　call　eager　to　be　reunited　with　lost　rades。　Do　you　think　he　might　be　an　escaped　foe？　That　somehow　he　survived　imprisonment；　even　attempted　murder；　just　a　day　or　so　before　the　foray　ship　came　down　to　land？　If　so；　how　ironic　his　particular　injury；　which　prevents　him　from　telling　so　much！　I　wonder　if　they　did　it　to　him。。。　the　way　barbaric　kings　of　old　Earth　used　to　rip　out　an　enemy's　tongue。　How　horrible；　if　true！〃
　　The　range　of　possibilities　rattled　off　by　the　sage　left　Sara　momentarily　stunned。　There　was　a　long　stretch　of　silence；　until　the　doctor　spoke　once　more。
　　〃Your　speculations　intrigue　and　terrify　me；　old　friend。　Yet　now　I　must　ask　that　you　not　agitate　my　patient　further。〃
　　But　Ariana　Foo　only　shook　her　head　in　somber　pondering。　〃I　had　thought　to　send　him　up　to　the　Glade　right　away。　Let　Vubben　and　the　others　decide　for　themselves　what　to　do　next。〃
　　〃Indeed？　I　could　never　allow　you　to　move　one　so　seriously…〃
　　〃Of　course　an　opportunity　to　offer　him　Galactic…level　treatment　of　his　injuries　would　make　a　fine　synergy；　bining　pragmatism　with　kindness。〃
　　The　g'Kek　medic's　oral　flap　opened　and　shut　soundlessly；　as　he　worked　to　find　a　way　past　Ariana's　logic。　Finally；　his　stalks　contracted　unhappily。
　　The　retired　sage　sighed。　〃Alas；　the　point　seems　moot。　From　what　we've　seen；　I　doubt　very　much　that　our　guest　here　will　be　willing　to　go。〃
　　Sara　was　about　to　tell　the　old　woman　where　she　could　go；　with　her　intent　to　meddle　in　a　man's　life。　But　just　then　the　subject　of　their　deliberations　lowered　his　arm。　He　looked　at　Ariana　and　Sara。　Then　he　picked　up　one　of　the　sketches。
　　〃G…guh。。。　？〃　He　swallowed；　and　his　brow　furrowed　with　intense　concentration。
　　All　eyes　stared　back　at　him。　The　man　lifted　one　of　the　drawings；　showing　the　starship　nestled　in　a　bower　of　shattered　trees。　He　stabbed　the　scene　with　his　index　finger。
　　〃G…g…g…oh！〃
　　Then　he　looked　into　Sara's　eyes；　pleadingly。　His　voice　dropped　to　a　whisper。
　　〃Go。〃
　　After　that；　discussion　of　Sara's　plan　seemed　almost　anticlimactic。　I　won't　be　going　back　to　Dolo　on　the　next　boat；　after　all。　I'm　on　my　way　to　see　the　aliens。
　　Poor　Father。　All　he　ever　wanted　was　to　raise　a　gaggle　of　safe　little　paper　makers。　Now　every　heir　goes　rushing　into　danger's　pincers；　just　as　fast　as　our　legs　can　carry　us！
　　Engril　and　Bloor；　the　portraitist；　arrived；　bearing　portable　tools　of　their　trades。
　　Bloor　was　a　short；　fair…skinned　man　with　ringlets　of　yellow　hair　showering　over　his　shoulders。　His　hands　were　stained　blotchy　from　years　creating　the　delicate　emulsions　required　by　his　art。　He　held　up　a　plate　of　metal；　as　wide　as　his　palm；　which　shimmered　with　finely　etched　lines　and　depressions。　From　certain　angles；　those　acid…cut　shapes　coalesced　to　form　sharp　profiles　of　shadow　and　light。
　　〃It's　called　the　Daguerre　process；〃　he　explained。　〃Actually；　it　is　quite　a　simple　technique　for　creating　permanent　images。　One　of　the　first　methods　of　photography　ever　invented　by　wolfling　humans；　back　on　Old　Earth。　Or　so　say　our　reference　books。　We　don't　employ　the　procedure　for　portraits　nowadays；　as　paper　is　faster　and　safer。〃
　　〃And　paper　decays；〃　Ariana　Foo　added；　turning　the　plate　over　in　her　hands。　Depicted　on　the　etched　metal　was　an　urrish　warrior　of　high　rank；　with　both　husbands　perched　on　her　back　in　a　formal　pose。　The　female's　sinuous　neck　was　painted　with　garish；　zigzag　stripes；　and　she　held　a　large　crossbow；　as　if　cradling　a　beloved　scent…daughter。
　　〃Indeed。〃　The　portraitist　conceded。　〃The　fine　papers　produced　by　Sara's　father　are　guaranteed　to　corrupt　in　less　than　a　century；　leaving　no　traces　to　betray　our　descendants。　This　sample　daguerreotype　is　one　of　only　a　few　not　sent　to　the　dross　middens　since　our　strengthened　mons　started　promoting　wider　respect　for　the　Law。　I　have　special　permission　to　hold　on　to　this　excellent　example。　See　the　fine　detail？　It　dates　from　before　the　third　urrish…human　war。　The　subject　is　a　chieftain　of　the　Sool　tribes；　I　believe。　Note　the　tattoo　scars。　Marvelous。　As　crisp　and　clear　as　the　day　it　was　taken。〃
　　Sara　leaned　forward　as　Ariana　passed　the　slim　plate　over。　〃Has　anyone　used　this　process　on　Jijo　since　then？〃
　　Bloor　nodded。　〃All　members　of　my　guild　create　one　daguerreotype；　as　part　of　our　master　work。　Nearly　all　are　then　sent　to　the　Midden；　or　given　to　smiths　for　remelting；　but　the　capability　remains。〃　He　lifted　a　satchel；　causing　a　faint　clinking　of　bottles。　〃There's　enough　acid　and　fixative　here　to　treat　and　develop　several　dozen　plates…but　I　have　only　about　twenty　of　the　plates　themselves。　If　we　want　more；　they　must　be　ordered　from　Ovoom　Town；　or　one　of　the　volcano　smithies。〃
　　Sara　felt　a　tap　on　her　shoulder　and　turned　to　see　the　Stranger　holding　out　his　hand。　She　gave　him　the　small　photograph；　and　he　traced　the　finely　etched　grooves　with　his　fingertips。
　　Now　that　her　mind　had　shifted　to　enpass　Ariana's　theory；　everything　the　wounded　man　did　seemed　to　refract　differently。　Was　he　smiling　now　over　the　crudeness　of　this　photographic　technology；　or　expressing　enchantment　at　its　cleverness？　Or　was　the　sparkling　delight　in　his　eyes　a　reaction　to　the　depicted　image　of　a　savage　warrior；　whose　bow　and　lance　had　been　such　a　scourge　during　that　age　of　heroic　struggle；　ten　generations　ago？
　　Ariana　Foo　rubbed　her　chin。　〃Twenty　plates。　Let's　say　you　get　good　pictures　with　just　half…〃
　　〃A　generous　estimate；　my　sage；　since　the　technique　requires　long　exposure　times。〃
　　Ariana　grunted。　〃A　half…dozen　successes；　then。　And　several　must　be　handed　over　to　the　forayers；　in　order　for　a　threat　to　be　believable。〃
　　〃Copies　can　be　made；〃　Engril　put　in。
　　〃We　won't　need　copies；〃　Sara　said。　〃They'll　have　to　assume　we　have　plenty　of　others。　The　crucial　point　is；　can　these　pictures　last　a　million　years？〃
　　The　portraitist　blew　at　a　strand　of　yellow　hair。　From　his　throat；　there　emerged　a　soft　strangling　sound；　like　a　qheuen　sigh。　〃Given　the　right　storage　conditions；　this　metal　oxidizes　a　nice　protective　layer。。。。〃He　laughed　nervously；　looking　from　Sara　to　Ariana。　〃You　aren't　serious；　are　you？　A　bluff　is　one　thing。　We're　desperate　enough　to　clutch　at　straws；　but　do　you　really　imagine　you　can　store　evidence　somewhere　until　the　next　Galactic　survey？〃
　　The　g'Kek　doctor　twisted　two　eyestalks　to　stare　in　opposite　directions。　〃It　appears　we　have　entered　into　entirely　new　realms　of　heresy。〃
　　
　　Asx
　　IT　MAY　HAVE　BEEN　A　MISTAKE　TO　HAVE　STRIVEN　SO　hard　to　suppress　psi　powers　among　the　Six。　For　most　of　the　long　millennia　of　our　exile；　it　seemed　the　wisest　move。　Was　not　our　greatest　goal　to　remain　hidden？　We　had　only　to　build　modestly；　in　harmony　with　nature；　and　let　the　inverse　square　law　do　the　rest。
　　But　psi　channels　are　fey；　nonlinear。　Or　so　say　books　printed　by　the　humans；　who　admit　that　their　kind　knew　little　about　the　subject　when　their　ancestors　fled　this　way。
　　When　the　Holy　Egg　first　gave　us　rewq；　some　among　the　Six　feared　the　symbionts　worked　by　psi；　which　might　make　our　fugitive　enclave　more　detectable。　Despite　satisfying　proof　it　is　not　so；　that　old　slander　has　now　returned；　once　more　stirring　friction　among　us。
　　Some　even　contend　that　the　Holy　Egg　itself　may　have　attracted　our　ruin！　After　all；　why　do　pirates　e　now；　a　mere　century　after　the　blessed　day　the　Egg　emerged？　Others　point　out　that　we　might　by　now　know　much　more　about　our　invaders；　if　only　we　had　bred　adepts　of　our　own；　instead　of　the　few　sensitives　and　truth…scryers　we　have　today。
　　Regret　is　a　silly；　useless　thing；　i　might　as　well　pine　for　the　rings　our　ancestors　were　said　to　have　abandoned；　simply　because　those　toroids　were　tainted　with　sin。
　　Oh；　how　many　things　the　legends　say　those　rings　once　let　us　do！　To　run　before　the　wind；　as　fleet　as　any　urs。　To　swim　like　qheuens　and　walk　beneath　the　sea。　To　touch　and　handle　the　world　at　all　levels　of　its　grainy　texture。　Above　all；　to　face　this　dire；　dread…filled　universe　with　a　self…centered　confidence　that　was　utterly；　biologically　serene。　No　uncertainty　to　plague　our　plex　munity　of　selves。　Only　the　towering　egotism　of　a　central；　confident　〃I。〃
　　
　　Dwer
　　THE　BLUE　QHEUENS　OF　THE　MOUNTAINS　HAD　different　traditions　than　their　cousins　who　lived　behind　I　mighty　Dolo　Dam。　Molting　rituals　back　home　always　seemed　informal。　Human　youngsters　from　the　nearby　village　ran　free　with　their　chitinous　friends；　while　grown…ups　shared　nectar…beer　and　celebrated　the　ing…of…age　of　a　new　generation。
　　In　this　alpine　sanctuary；　the　chants　and　hissing　rituals　felt　more　solemn。　Guests　included　the　local　g'Kek　doctor；　some　traeki　gleaners；　and　a　dozen　human　neighbors；　who　took　turns　at　a　warped　window　pane；　to　view　events　in　the　larva　creche　next　door。　The　hoons　who　fished　the　lake　behind　the　dam　had　sent　the　usual　regrets。　Most　hoon　felt　incurably　squeamish　toward　the　qheuen　way　of　reproduction。
　　Dwer　was　here　out　of　gratitude。　If　not　for　this　kindly　hive；　he　might　be　flexing　stumps　instead　of　a　nearly　full　set　of　fingers　and　toes；　still　tender　but　recovering。　The　occasion　also　came　as　a　break　from　tense　preparations　with　Danel　Ozawa。　When　beckoned　to　the　window　by　Carving　Tongue；　the　local　matriarch；　Dwer　and　Danel　bowed　to　the　matriarch；　and　to　the　human　tutor；　Mister　Shed。
　　〃Congratulations　to　you　both；〃　Ozawa　said。　〃May　you　have　a　fine　clutch　of　graduates。〃
　　〃Thank　you；　honored　sage。〃　Carving　Tongue's　breathy　sigh　seemed　edgy。　As　head　female；　she　laid　more　than　half　the　eggs。　Many　of　the　throbbing　shapes　next　door　would　be　her　offspring；　preparing　to　emerge　at　last。　After　waiting　twenty　years　or　more；　some　strain　was　expected。
　　Mister　Shed　had　no　genetic　investment　in　the　young　qheuens　transforming　next　door；　but　anxiety　wrote　across　the　instructor's　gaunt　face。