uplift4.brightnessreef-第67部分

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t　else　was　different…something　wound　around　the　qheuen's　ash…colored　cupola。
　　〃Aha；〃　he　mented；　slipping　into　a　more　relaxed　sevenish　dialect。　〃So　it's　true。　The　mask　renews　its　offer。〃
　　〃To　take　nourishment　of　our　bodies　in　exchange　for　revelation　of　the　soul。　Indeed。　The　mask　returns　among　us。　Caves　which　had　seemed　barren　now　swarm　with　labile　young　rewq；　even　as　the　Egg　resumes　its　patterning　song。　Are　these　not　good　omens？　Shall　we　rejoice？〃
　　With　a　snap　of　one　claw；　Harullen　signaled　to　a　lornik；　which　had　been　crouching　out　of　view　behind　its　master。　The　small　servant　creature　hurried　around　the　qheuen's　great　flank；　scuttling　and　twisting　in　a　four…legged　imitation　of　Harullen's　own　stately　walk。　With　small；　three…fingered　hands　it　bore　a　box　of　polished　wood；　showing　fluted　traces　of　personal　tooth…carving。
　　〃From　among　this　crop　of　cave　fledglings；　there　were　many　shaped　for　noble　human　brows；〃　Harullen　continued。　〃Please　accept　these　to　choose　from；　as　offerings　of　deep　esteem。〃
　　Lark　took　the　box　from　the　lornik；　knowing　better　than　to　thank　or　make　eye　contact　with　the　shy　creature。　Unlike　chimps　and　zookirs；　lorniks　seemed　able　to　bond　only　with　the　race　that　brought　their　ancestors　to　Jijo；　nearly　a　thousand　years　ago。
　　He　lifted　the　delicately　grooved　lid　of　the　gift　box；　which　by　qheuenish　tradition　had　been　gnawed　by　the　giver　and　could　never　be　used　again　for　any　other　purpose。　Inside；　resting　on　a　bed　of　garu　sawdust；　several　clusters　of　brown…speckled　tendrils　quivered；　coupled　by　colored　bands　of　translucent　film。
　　There's　been　so　little　time。　I've　had　so　many　duties。　This　really　is　a　fine　favor。。。。
　　Still；　all　told；　Lark　would　rather　have　gone　to　the　caves　and　picked　his　next　rewq　for　himself；　as　he　had　done　on　three　other　occasions　since　passing　puberty。　It　seemed　strange　to　choose　one　out　of　a　box。　What　was　he　to　do　with　the　others？
　　Several　tentacles　raised　tentatively；　reaching　toward　the　light；　then　twisting；　searching。　Only　one　pair　showed　no　indecision；　wafting　gently　in　Lark's　direction；　spreading　a　gossamer　web　between　them。
　　Well；　it's　a　humaniform　rewq；　all　right；　he　thought。　It　looks　new；　robust。
　　To　feel　diffident　was　only　natural。　A　person　usually　held　on　to　a　personal　rewq　for　many　years。　It　had　been　painful　to　watch　helplessly　as　the　last　one　wasted　in　its　moss…lined　pouch；　during　the　many　weeks　the　Egg　was　silent。　Nor　could　he　share　someone　else's　symbiont。　Among　humans；　one　was　more　likely　to　pass　around　a　toothbrush　than　a　rewq。
　　〃My　gratitude　is　manifest　in　acceptance　of　this　unexcelled　gift；〃　he　said。　Though　reluctant；　Lark　lifted　the　squirming　mass　to　his　brow。
　　His　former　rewq　had　been　like　a　pair　of　old　shoes…or　a　favorite　pair　of　urrish…made　sunglasses…fortable　and　easy　to　use。　This　one　twitched　and　wriggled　in　agitated　eagerness；　palpating　his　temples　in　avid　search　of　rich　surface　veins　where　it　might　feed。　The　gauzy　membrane　spread　taut　over　Lark's　eyes；　rippling　with　the　rewq's　own　excitement；　conveying　nothing　more　useful　than　a　wave　of　vertigo。　It　would　take　time　to　reach　an　understanding　with　the　new　creature。　Ideally　you　let　your　old　one　teach　the　new；　during　an　overlapping　time　before　the　elderly　rewq　died。
　　Ifni's　miracles　often　have　ironic　timing。　We　had　to　face　the　aliens　for　so　long　without　the　help　rewq　might　have　offered。　Now；　at　a　critical　moment；　they　return　so　suddenly　that　they　may　only　prove　a　distracting　hindrance。
　　Still；　for　courtesy's　sake；　he　pretended　pleasure；　bowing　and　thanking　Harullen　for　the　fine　gift。　With　luck；　Harullen's　own　rewq　would　be　noisy　too；　and　not　convey　any　of　Lark's　own　mixed　feelings。
　　The　heretic　leader's　satisfaction　was　evident　in　a　mincing；　clattering　dance　of　feet　and　dangling　claws。　The　film　over　Lark's　eyes　added　a　blur　of　sparks　that　might　be　translated　qheuenish　emotions…or　else　just　static　from　the　excited；　untrained　rewq。
　　Then　Harullen　abruptly　changed　the　subject；　slipping　into　Anglic。
　　〃You　know　that　the　time　of　pilgrimage　is　almost　at　hand？〃
　　〃I　was　just　writing　a　letter。　I'll　don　my　robe　and　join　our　group　at　the　Wheel　Stone　in　a　midura。〃
　　Partly　because　Ling　requested　Lark's　presence；　the。　Sages　had　granted　the　heretical　faction　two　sixes　among　the　twelve　twelves　selected　to　make　the　first　climb；　setting　forth　to　greet　the　rousing　Egg。　Since　hearing　the　news；　Lark　had　felt　a　familiar　heat　ing　from　the　knob　of　stone　that　hung　by　a　thong　around　his　neck。　His　reminder　and　penance。　No　pilgrimage　was　ever　easy　wearing　that　amulet。
　　〃Very　well；　then；〃　Harullen　replied。　〃At　the　Wheel　Stone　we　shall　consider　the　zealots'　latest　entreaty　before　proceeding　to　join。。。〃
　　The　heretic's　voice　trailed　off；　muffling　as　he　crouched　down；　drawing　all　five　legs　into　his　carapace；　bringing　his　sensitive　tongue　into　contact　with　the　ground。　This　time；　Lark's　rewq　conveyed　a　vivid　image　of　emotions…a　halo　depicting　distaste　mixed　liberally　with　disapproval。
　　Harullen　resumed。　〃There　is　another　on　the　trail。　One　whose　stone…hard　lineage　is　belied　by　disorderly　foot…haste。〃
　　One　whose　what　is　what？　Lark　puzzled。　Sometimes　the　way　other　races　used　Anglic　left　him　confused。　Maybe　it　wasn't　such　a　good　thing　the　chaotic　human　language　had　bee　so　popular　on　Jijo。
　　Soon　he　also　felt　ground…tremors；　tickling　the　soles　of　his　feet。　A　five…beat　vibration　even　more　familiar　than　Harullen's　earlier　footsteps。　Similar　to　that　rhythmic　beat；　yet　simpler；　less　aristocratic；　a　pace　too　hurried　and　eager　to　waste　time　on　etiquette　or　show。
　　Another　armored　form　burst　into　view；　trailing　twigs　and　leaves。
　　Like　Harullen；　Uthen　the　Taxonomist　was　dressed　for　pilgrimage…in　a　carelessly　draped；　once…white　rag　that　flapped　behind　him　like　somebody's　old　bedsheet。　His　carapace　was　a　slightly　deeper　shade　of　slate　than　his　disdainful　cousin's。　Like　Harullen；　Uthen　wore　a　new　rewq；　which　might　explain　his　stumbling　progress；　twice　veering　off　the　path　as　if　distracted　by　swarms　of　buzzing　insects。　Lark　peeled　his　own　reluctant　symbiont　back　from　his　eyes。　He　needed　no　help　reading　his　colleague's　excitement。
　　〃Lark…ark；　Harullen…en；〃　Uthen　stammered　out　several　vents；　in　unmatched　timbres。　Harullen　scornfully　turned　his　cupola　while　the　newer　caught　his　breath。
　　〃e　quickly；　both　of　you。　They've　e　out！〃
　　〃Who's　e…？〃　Lark　began；　before　realizing　that　Uthen　could　mean　but　one　thing。
　　He　nodded。　〃Just　give　me　a　dura。〃
　　Lark　ducked　back　under　the　tent　flap；　fumbled　for　his　own　pilgrimage　robe；　then　paused　by　the　writing　desk。　He　snatched　the　unfinished　letter　from　under　the　folio　and　slid　it　into　a　sleeve；　along　with　a　sharpened　pencil。　Ink　was　more　elegant　and　wouldn't　smudge。　Still；　Sara　wouldn't　give　a　damn；　so　long　as　the　letter　got　there　and　contained　the　latest　news。
　　〃e　on！〃　Uthen　urged；　impatiently；　when　Lark　reemerged。　〃Hop　aboard　and　let's　hoof　it！〃　The　gray　qheuen　scientist　dipped　one　end　of　his　shell　to　the　ground。　This　time；　Harullen　groaned　annoyance。　Sure；　kids　did　it　all　the　time；　but　it　wasn't　dignified　for　an　adult　gray…especially　one　with　ancestry　like　Uthen's…to　go　around　carrying　a　human　on　his　back。　Still；　they　would　move　faster　now；　toward　the　Meadow　of　Concealed　Aliens；　hurrying　to　see　the　wonder　that　had　emerged。
　　If　anything；　Ling　understated　when　she　called　them　beautiful。
　　Lark　had　never　envisioned　anything　quite　like　them。　Not　when　leafing　through　ancient　picture　books；　or　reading　pre…Contact　works　of　space　fiction。　Not　even　in　his　dreams。
　　In　the　vernacular　of　Jijo's　exiled　tribes；　it　was　mon　to　call　all　Galactics　〃star…gods。〃　Yet　here；　strolling　a　forest　clearing；　were　beings　that　seemed　all　but　literally　worthy　of　the　name；　so　exquisite　were　they　to　behold。　Lark　could　stand　it　only　for　moments　at　a　stretch；　then　had　to　look　away　lest　his　eyes　fill　with　tears　and　his　chest　begin　to　ache。
　　Ling　and　the　other　forayer　humans　formed　a　guard　of　honor　around　their　noble　patrons；　while　vigilant　robots　hovered。　Occasionally；　one　of　the　tall　stoop…shouldered　Rothen　crooked　a　finger；　beckoning　Rann　or　Besh　to　lean　upward　and　explain　something；　like　children　called　on　to　recite；　gesturing　at　a　nearby　tree；　one　of　the　tent…pavilions；　a　herd　of　spline　beasts；　or　a　shy　infant　g'Kek。
　　Crowds　gathered。　Proctors　of　Gathering；　armed　with　red…dyed　sticks；　kept　people　from　pressing　too　close；　but　there　seemed　small　likelihood　of　a　shameful　outburst。　Hardly　anyone　even　whispered；　so　thick　was　the　atmosphere　of　awe。
　　The　effect　seemed　greatest　on　the　humans　present；　most　of　whom　stared　with　hushed　wonderment　and　bewildered　familiarity。　Rothen　were　humanoid　to　an　uncanny　degree；　with　high　noble　foreheads；　wide　sympathetic　eyes；　eloquent　noses；　and　droopy；　soft…fringed　eyebrows　that　seemed　to　purse　with　sincere；　attentive　interest　in　anyone　or　everything　they　encountered。　Nor　were　these　parallels　coincidental；　Lark　supposed。　Physical　and　emotional　affinities　would　have　been　cultivated　during　the　long　process　of　uplift；　tens　of　thousands　of　years　ago；　when　Rothen　experts　tinkered　and　modified　a　tribe　of　graceless　but　promising　apes　back　on　Pliocene　Earth；　altering　them　gradually　into　beings　almost　ready　for　the　stars。
　　That　assumed　these　creatures　really　were　humanity's　long…hidden　patrons；　as　Ling　claimed。　Lark　tried　to　retain　an　attitude　of　cautious　neutrality　but　found　it　hard　in　the　face　of　such　evidence。　How　could　this　race　be　any　other　than　humankind's　lost　patrons？
　　When　the　two　august　visitors　were　introduced　to　the　assembled　High　Sages；　Lark　drew　fort　from　the　serene　expressions　of　Vubben；　Phwhoon…dau；　and　the　others；　none　of　whom　wore　rewq　for　the　occasion。　Even　Lester　Cambel　remained　posed…at　least　on　the　outside…when　presented　to　Ro…kenn　and　Ro…pol；　whose　names　Rann　proclaimed　for　all　to　hear。
　　By　human　standards；　Ro…kenn　appeared　to　be　male。　And　though　Lark　tried　not　to　be　overly　influenced　by　analogies；　the　more　delicate…featured　Ro…pol　struck　him　as　possibly　female。　The　crowd　murmured　when　the　two　smiled…revealing　small　white　teeth…conveying　apparent　pleasure　at　the　meeting。　Ro…pol's　grin　creased　in　ways　that　might　even　be　called　dimples。　The　word　merry　tempted　Lark；　as　a　way　to　describe　the　sligh