uplift4.brightnessreef-第90部分

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Scrolls。　Not　to　find　a　dark　corner　of　the　universe　to　engage　in　criminally　selfish　breeding；　or　to　resign　from　the　cosmos；　seeking　the　roads　of　innocence。　In　either　of　those　cases；　I　could　see　printing　how…to　manuals；　or　simple　tales　to　help　light　the　way。　In　time；　the　books　would　turn　brittle　and　go　to　dust；　when　humans　and　the　rest　of　us　are　ready　to　give　them　up。　Kind　of　like　the　Eloi　folk　in　H。　G。　Wells's　The　Time　Machine。
　　In　neither　case　did　it　make　any　sense　to　print　copies　of　Finnegans　Wake。
　　Realizing　this；　I　picked　up　the　book　once　more。　And　while　I　did　not　understand　the　story　or　allusions　any　better　than　before；　I　was　able　to　enjoy　the　flow　of　words；　their　rhythms　and　sounds；　for　their　own　extravagant　sake。　It　wasn't　important　anymore　that　I　be　the　only　person　to　grok　it。
　　In　fact；　there　came　a　warm　feeling　as　I　turned　the　pages　and　thought…someday；　someone　else　is　going　to　get　more　out　of　this　than　I　did。
　　On　Jijo；　things　get　stored　away　that　seem　dead；　but　that　only　sleep。
　　I've　been　pondering　that　very　thought　while　lying　here　in　constant　pain；　trying　to　bear　it　stoically　whenever　strange；　silent　beings　barge　into　my　cell　to　poke　me　with　heat；　cold；　and　prickly　sharpness。　I　mean；　should　I　feel　hope　as　metal　fingers　probe　my　wounds？　Or　sour　gloom　that　my　blank…faced　tenders　refuse　to　answer　any　questions；　or　even　to　speak？　Shall　I　dwell　on　my　awful　homesickness？　Or　on　the　contrary　thrill　over　having　discovered　something　wonderfully　strange　that　no　one　on　the　Slope　ever　suspected；　not　since　the　g'Keks　first　sent　their　sneakship　tumbling　into　the　deep？
　　Above　all；　I　wondered…am　I　prisoner；　patient；　or　specimen？
　　Finally　I　realized…I　just　don't　have　any　framework　to　decide。　Like　the　phrases　in　Joyce's　book；　these　beings　seem　at　once　both　strangely　familiar　and　pletely　unfathomable。
　　Are　they　machines？
　　Are　they　denizens　of　some　ancient　submarine　civilization？
　　Are　they　invaders？　Do　they　see　us　as　invaders？
　　Are　they　Buyur？
　　I've　been　avoiding　thinking　about　what's　really　eating　away　at　me；　inside。
　　e　on；　Alvin。　Face　up　to　it。
　　I　recall　those　final　duras；　when　our　beautiful　Wuphon's　Dream　shattered　to　bits。　When　her　hull　slammed　against　my　spine。　When　my　friends　spilled　into　the　metal　monster's　mouth；　immersed　in　cold；　cold；　cold；　cruel　water。
　　They　were　alive　then。　Injured；　dazed；　but　alive。
　　Still　alive　when　a　hurricane　of　air　forced　out　the　horrid　dark　sea；　leaving　us　to　flop；　wounded　and　half　dead；　down　to　a　hard　deck。　And　when　sun…bright　lights　half…blinded　us；　and　creepy　spider…things　stepped　into　the　chamber　to　look　over　their　catch。
　　But　memory　blurs　at　that　point；　fading　into　a　hazy　muddle　of　images…until　I　awoke　here；　alone。
　　Alone；　and　worried　about　my　friends。
　　
　　XXVI。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SLOPE
　　Legends
　　We　know　that　in　the　Five　Galaxies；　every　star…faring　race　got　its　start　through　the　process　of　uplift；　receiving　a　boost　to　sapience　from　the　patrons　that　adopted　them。　And　those　patrons　were　bestowed　the　same　boon　by　earlier　patrons；　and　so　on；　a　chain　of　beneficence　stretching　all　the　way　back　to　misty　times　when　there　were　more　than　five　linked　galaxies…back　to　the　fabled　Progenitors；　who　began　the　chain；　so　very　long　ago。
　　Where　did　the　Progenitors　themselves　e　from？
　　To　some　of　the　religious　alliances　that　wrangle　testily　across　the　space　lanes；　that　very　question　is　anathema；　or　even　likely　to　provoke　a　fight。
　　Others　deal　with　the　issue　by　claiming　that　the　ancient　ones　must　have　e　from　somewhere　else；　or　that　the　Progenitors　were　transcendent　beings　who　descended　graciously　from　a　higher　plane　in　order　to　help　sapient　life　get　its　start。
　　Of　course　one　might　suggest　that　such　facile　answers　simply　beg　the　question；　but　it's　unwise　to　suggest　it　too　loudly。　Some　august　Galactics　do　not　take　it　kindly　when　you　point　out　their　inconsistencies。
　　Finally；　there　is　one　cult…the　Affirmers…who　hold　the　view　that　the　Progenitors　must　have　self…evolved　on　some　planet；　boot…strapping　to　full　sapiency　all　by　themselves…a　prodigious；　nigh…impossible　feat。　One　might　imagine　that　the　Affirmers　would　be　more　friendly　to　Earthlings　than　most　of　the　more　fanatical　alliances。　After　all；　many　Terrans　still　believe　our　race　did　the　very　same　thing；　uplifting　ourselves　in　isolation；　without　help　from　anyone。
　　Alas；　don't　expect　much　sympathy　from　the　Affirmers；　who　see　it　as　arrogant　hubris　for　mere　wolflings　to　make　such　a　claim。　Self…uplift；　they　maintain；　is　a　phenomenon　of　the　highest　and　most　sacred　order…not　for　the　likes　of　creatures　like　us。
　　…A　Pragmatist's　Introduction　to　Galactology；
　　by　Jacob　Demwa；　reprinted　from　the　original　by
　　Tarek　Printers　Guild；　Year…of…Exile　1892。
　　
　　Dwer
　　IT　DID　NO　GOOD　TO　SHOUT　OR　THROW　STONES　AT　the　glavers。　The　pair　just　retreated　to　watch　from　a　distance　with　blank；　globelike　eyes；　then　resumed　following　when　the　human　party　moved　on。　Dwer　soon　realized　there　would　be　no　getting　rid　of　them。　He'd　have　to　shoot　the　beasts　or　ignore　them。
　　〃You　have　other　things　to　keep　you　busy；　son；〃　Danel　Ozawa　ruled。
　　It　was　an　understatement。
　　The　clearing　near　the　waterfall　still　reeked　of　urs；　donkey；　and　simla　when　Dwer　warily　guided　Danel's　group　across　the　shallow　ford。　From　then　on；　he　borrowed　a　tactic　from　the　old　wars；　reconnoitering　each　day's　march　the　night　before；　counting　on　urrish　diurnal　habits　to　keep　him　safe　from　ambush…though　urs　were　adaptable　beings。　They　could　be　deadly　even　at　night；　as　human　fighters　used　to　find　out　the　hard　way。
　　Dwer　hoped　this　group　had　lazy　habits；　after　generations　of　peace。
　　Rising　at　midnight；　he　would　scout　by　the　light　of　two　smaller　moons；　sniffing　warily　each　time　the　trail　of　hoofprints　neared　some　plausible　ambuscade。　Then；　at　dawn；　he　would　hurry　back　to　help　Danel's　donkey　train　plod　ahead　by　day。
　　Ozawa　thought　it　urgent　to　catch　up　with　the　urrish　band　and　negotiate　an　arrangement。　But　Dwer　worried。　How　does　he　expect　they'll　react？　Embracing　us　like　brothers？　These　are　criminals。　Like　Rety's　band。　Like　us。
　　The　spoor　grew　fresher。　Now　the　urs　were　just　a　week　ahead　of　them；　maybe　just　a　few　days。
　　He　began　noting　other　traces。　Soft　outlines　in　the　sand。　Broken　stone　flakes。　Fragments　of　a　moccasin　lace。　Smudged　campfires　more　than　a　month　old。
　　Rety's　band。　The　urs　are　heading　straight　for　the　heart　of　their　territory。
　　Danel　took　the　news　calmly。　〃They　must　figure　as　we　did。　The　human　sooners　know　a　lot　about　life　in　these　hills。　That's　valuable　experience；　whether　it　can　be　bought；　borrowed…〃
　　〃Or　tortured　out　of　'em；〃　Lena　Strong　finished；　whetting　one　of　her　knives　by　the　evening's　low　red　coals。　〃Some　urrish　clans　used　to　keep　human　prisoners　as　drudges；　before　we　broke　'em　of　the　habit。〃
　　〃A　habit　they　learned　from　the　queens。　There's　no　call　to　assume　slavery　is　a　natural　urs　behavior。　For　that　matter；　back　on　Old　Earth　humans　used　to…〃
　　〃Yeah；　well；　we　still　have　a　problem；〃　Dwer　interrupted。　〃What　to　do　when　we　catch　up。〃
　　〃Right！〃　Lena　inspected　the　knife…edge。　〃Do　we　pounce　fast；　taking　the　urs　all　bunched　together？　Or　do　it　hoon…style…picking　them　off　one　at　a　time？〃
　　Jenin　sighed　unhappily。　〃Oh；　Lena。　Please　stop。〃　She　had　been　cheerful　throughout　the　journey；　until　hearing　all　this　talk　of　fighting。　Jenin　had　joined　this　trek　in　order　to　be　a　founding　mother　of　a　new　race；　not　to　hunt　down　beings　who　had　once　been　her　neighbors。
　　Dwer's　heart　felt　the　same　pain　as　Jenin；　though　his　pragmatic　side　agreed　with　Lena。
　　〃If　we　have　to；　I'd　rather　do　it　fast；〃　he　muttered；　glancing　at　the　donkey　carrying　their　most　secret；　unspeakable　〃tools。〃
　　〃It　shouldn't　e　to　that；〃　Danel　insisted。　〃First　let's　ascertain　who　they　are　and　what　they　want。　Perhaps　we　can　make　mon　cause。〃
　　Lena　snorted。　〃Send　an　emissary？　Give　away　our　presence？　You　heard　Dwer。　There's　over　a　dozen　of　'em！〃
　　〃Don't　you　think　we　should　wait　for　the　second　group；　then？〃　Jenin　asked。　〃They　were　supposed　to　be　right　behind　us。〃
　　Lena　shrugged。　〃Who　knows　how　long　they'll　take？　Or　if　they　got　lost？　The　urs　could　find　us　first。　And　there's　the　human　tribe　to　consider。〃
　　〃Rety's　old　band。〃
　　〃Right。　Want　to　let　them　get　killed　or　enslaved？　Just　on　account　of　we're　too　scared　to…〃
　　〃Lena！〃　Danel　cut　her　off。　〃That　will　do　for　now。　We'll　see　what's　to　be　done　when　the　time　es。　Meanwhile；　poor　Dwer　should　get　some　sleep。　We　owe　him　whatever　rest　he　can　get。〃
　　〃That　ain't　half　what　he's　owed。〃　Lena　muttered；　causing　Dwer　to　glance　her　way；　but　in　the　pre…moonrise　dimness；　he　could　make　out　only　shadows。
　　〃G'night　all；〃　he　said；　and　slipped　away　to　seek　his　bedroll。
　　Mudfoot　looked　up　from　the　blanket；　chuttering　testily　over　having　to　move。　The　creature　did　help　warm　things　up　at　night；　which　partly　made　up　for　its　vexing　way　of　licking　Dwer's　face　while　he　slept；　harvesting　perspiration　from　his　forehead　and　lip。
　　Dwer　lay　down；　turned　over…and　blinked　in　surprise　at　two　pairs　of　giant　round　eyes；　staring　back　at　him　from　just　three　meters　away。
　　Jeekee　glavers。
　　Normally；　one　simply　ignored　the　placid　creatures。　But　he　still　couldn't　shake　the　memory　of　that　pack　of　them；　clustered　greedily　around　a　dead　gallaiter。
　　He　tossed　a　dirt　clod　vaguely　their　way。　〃Go　on！　Get！〃
　　Just　as　vaguely；　the　pair　turned　and　sauntered　off。　Dwer　glanced　at　Mudfoot。
　　〃Why　not　make　yourself　a　hit　useful　and　keep　those　pests　away？〃
　　The　noor　just　grinned　back　at　him。
　　Dwer　pulled　the　blanket　over　his　chin；　trying　to　settle　down。　He　was　tired　and　ached　from　sore　muscles　and　bruises。　But　slumber　came　slowly；　freighted　with　troubling　dreams。
　　He　woke　to　a　soft　touch；　stroking　his　face。　Irritably；　he　tried　to　push　the　noor　away。
　　〃Quit　it；　furball！　Lick　a　donkey　turd；　if　you　want　salt　so　bad。〃
　　After　a　surprised　pause；　a　hushed　voice　answered。
　　〃Reckon　I　never　been　weled　to　a　man's　bed　half　so　sweetly。〃
　　Dwer　rolled　onto　an　elbow；　rubbing　one　eye　to　make　out　a　blurred　silhouette。　A　woman。
　　〃Jenin？〃
　　〃Would　you　prefer　her？　I　won　the　toss；　but　I'll　fetch　her　if　you　like。〃
　　〃Lena！　What　can　I　do　for　you？〃
　　Dwe