tp.lightfantastic-第25章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　'Um；　the　cruet；'　said　Lackjaw。
　'Just　that？'
　'Well；　I　had　to　go　under　the　table；　didn't　I？　You　didn't　do　so　well　yourself。'
　Cohen　looked　disdainfully　at　the　small　melon　he　had　managed　to　skewer　in　his　flight。
　'This　must　be　pretty　tough　here；'　he　said；　biting　through　159　the　rind。
　'Want　some　salt　on　it？'　said　the　dwarf。
　Cohen　said　nothing。　He　just　stood　holding　the　melon；　with　his　mouth　open。
　Lackjaw　looked　around。　The　cul　de　sac　they　were　in　was　empty；　except　for　an　old　box　someone　had　left　against　a　wall。
　Cohen　was　staring　at　it。　He　handed　the　melon　to　the　dwarf　without　looking　at　him　and　walked　out　into　the　sunlight。　Lackjaw　watched　him　creep　stealthily　around　the　box；　or　as　stealthily　as　is　possible　with　joints　that　creaked　like　a　ship　under　full　sail；　and　prod　it　once　or　twice　with　his　sword；　but　very　gingerly；　as　if　he　half…expected　it　to　explode。
　'It's　just　a　box；'　the　dwarf　called　out。　'What's　so　special　about　a　box？'
　Cohen　said　nothing。　He　squatted　down　painfully　and　peered　closely　at　the　lock　on　the　lid。
　'What's　in　it？'　said　Lackjaw。
　'You　wouldn't　want　to　know；'　said　Cohen。　'Help　me　up；　will　you？'
　'Yes；　but　this　box　…'
　'This　box；'　said　Cohen；　'this　box　is…'he　waved　his　arms　vaguely。
　'Oblong？'
　'Eldritch；'　said　Cohen　mysteriously。
　'Eldritch？'
　'Yup。'
　'Oh；'　said　the　dwarf。　They　stood　looking　at　the　box　for　a　moment。
　'Cohen？'
　'Yes？'
　'What　does　eldritch　mean？'
　'Well；　eldritch　is…'　Cohen　paused　and　looked　down　irritably。　'Give　it　a　kick　and　you'll　see。'
　Lockjaw's　steel…capped　dwarfboot　whammed　into　the　side　of　the　box。　Cohen　flinched。　Nothing　else　happened。
　'I　see；'　said　the　dwarf。　'Eldritch　means　wooden？'
　'No；'　said　Cohen。　'It　…　it　oughtn't　to　have　done　that。'
　'I　see；'　said　Lackjaw；　who　didn't；　and　was　beginning　to　wish　Cohen　hadn't　gone　out　into　all　this　hot　sunlight。　'It　ought　to　have　run　away；　you　think？'
　'Yes。　Or　bitten　your　leg　off。'
　'Ah；'　said　the　dwarf。　He　took　Cohen　gently　by　the　arm。　'It's　nice　and　shady　over　here；'　he　said。　'Why　don't　you　just　have　a　little　…'
　Cohen　shook　him　off。
　'It's　watching　that　wall；'　he　said。　'Look；　that's　why　it's　not　taking　any　notice　of　us。　It's　staring　at　the　wall。'
　'Yes；　that's　right；'　said　Lackjaw　soothingly。　'Of　course　it's　watching　that　wall　with　its　little　eyes　…'
　'Don't　be　an　idiot；　it　hasn't　got　any　eyes；'　snapped　Cohen。
　'Sorry；　sorry；'　said　Lackjaw　hurriedly。　'It's　watching　the　wall　without　eyes；　sorry。'
　'I　think　it's　worried　about　something；'　said　Cohen。
　'Well；　it　would　be；　wouldn't　it；'　said　Lackjaw。　'I　expect　it　just　wants　us　to　go　off　somewhere　and　leave　it　alone。'
　'I　think　it's　very　puzzled；'　Cohen　added。
　'Yes；　it　certainly　looks　puzzled；'　said　the　dwarf。　Cohen　glared　at　him。
　'How　can　you　tell？'　he　snapped。
　It　struck　Lackjaw　that　the　roles　were　unfairly　reversing。　He　looked　from　Cohen　to　the　box；　his　mouth　opening　and　shutting。
　'How　can　you　tell？'　he　said。　But　Cohen　wasn't　listening　anyway。　He　sat　down　in　front　of　the　box；　assuming　that　the　bit　with　the　keyhole　was　the　front；　and　watched　it　intently。　Lackjaw　backed　away。　Funny；　said　his　mind；　but　the　damn　thing　is　looking　at　me。
　'All　right；'　said　Cohen；　'I　know　you　and　me　don't　see　eye　to　eye；　but　we're　all　trying　to　find　someone　we　care　for；　okay？'
　'I'm…'　said　Lackjaw；　and　realised　that　Cohen　was　talking　to　the　box。
　'So　tell　me　where　they've　gone。'
　As　Lackjaw　looked　on　in　horror　the　Luggage　extended　161　its　little　legs；　braced　itself；　and　ran　full　tilt　at　the　nearest　wall。　Clay　bricks　and　dusty　mortar　exploded　around　it。
　Cohen　peered　through　the　hole。　There　was　a　small　grubby　storeroom　on　the　other　side。　The　Luggage　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　floor；　radiating　extreme　bafflement。
　

　'Shop！'　said　Twoflower。
　'Anyone　here？'　said　Bethan。
　'Urrgh；'　said　Rincewind。
　'I　think　we　ought　to　sit　him　down　somewhere　and　get　him　a　glass　of　water；'　said　Twoflower。　'If　there's　one　here。'
　'There's　everything　else；'　said　Bethan。
　The　room　was　full　of　shelves；　and　the　shelves　were　full　of　everything。　Things　that　couldn't　be　acmodated　on　them　hung　in　bunches　from　the　dark　and　shadowy　ceiling；　boxes　and　sacks　of　everything　spilled　onto　the　floor。
　There　was　no　sound　from　outside。　Bethan　looked　around　and　found　out　why。
　'I've　never　seen　so　much　stuff；'　said　Twoflower。
　'There's　one　thing　it's　out　of　stock　of；'　said　Bethan；　firmly。。
　'How　can　you　tell？'
　'You　just　have　to　look。　It's　fresh　out　of　exits。'
　Twoflower　turned　around。　Where　the　door　and　window　had　been　there　were　shelves　stacked　with　boxes；　they　looked　as；　though　they　had　been　there　for　a　long　time。
　Twoflower　sat　Rincewind　down　on　a　rickety　chair　by　the　counter　and　poked　doubtfully　at　the　shelves。　There　were　boxes　of　nails；　and　hairbrushes。　There　were　bars　of　soap；　faded　with　age。　There　was　a　stack　of　jars　containing　deliquescent　bath　salts；　to　which　someone　had　fixed　a　rather　sad　and　jaunty　little　notice　announcing；　in　the　face　of　all　the　evidence；　that　one　would　make　an　Ideal　Gift。　There　was　also　quite　a　lot　of　dust。
　Bethan　peered　at　the　shelves　on　the　other　wall；　and　laughed。
　'Would　you　look　at　this！'　she　said。
　Twoflower　looked。　She　was　holding　a　…　well；　it　was　a　little　mountain　chalet；　but　with　seashells　stuck　all　over　it；　and　then　the　perpetrator　had　written　'A　Special　Souvenir'　in　pokerwork　on　the　roof　（which；　of　course；　opened　so　that　cigarettes　could　be　kept　in　it；　and　played　a　tinny　little　tune）。
　'Have　you　ever　seen　anything　like　it？'　she　said。
　Twoflower　shook　his　head。　His　mouth　dropped　open。
　'Are　you　all　right？'　said　Bethan。
　'I　think　it's　the　most　beautiful　thing　I've　ever　seen；'　he　said。
　There　was　a　whirring　noise　overhead。　They　looked　up。
　A　big　black　globe　had　lowered　itself　from　the　darkness　of　the　ceiling。　Little　red　lights　flashed　on　and　off　on　it；　and　as　they　stared　it　spun　around　and　looked　at　them　with　a　big　glass　eye。　It　was　menacing；　that　eye。　It　seemed　to　suggest　very　emphatically　that　it　was　watching　something　distasteful。
　'Hallo？'　said　Twoflower。
　A　head　appeared　over　the　edge　of　the　counter。　It　looked　angry。
　'I　hope　you　were　intending　to　pay　for　that；'　it　said　nastily。　Its　expression　suggested　that　it　expected　Rincewind　to　say　yes；　and　that　it　wouldn't　believe　him。
　'This？'　said　Bethan。　'I　wouldn't　buy　this　if　you　threw　in　a　hatful　of　rubies　and　…'
　'I'll　buy　it。　How　much？'　said　Twoflower　urgently；　reaching　into　his　pockets。　His　face　fell。
　'Actually；　I　haven't　got　any　money；'　he　said。　'It's　in　my　Luggage；　but　I　…'
　There　was　a　snort。　The　head　disappeared　from　behind　the　counter；　and　reappeared　from　behind　a　display　of　toothbrushes。
　It　belonged　to　a　very　small　man　almost　hidden　behind　a　green　apron。　He　seemed　very　upset。
　'No　money？'　he　said。　'You　e　into　my　shop　…'
　'We　didn't　mean　to；'　said　Twoflower　quickly。　'We　didn't　notice　it　was　there。'
　'It　wasn't；'　said　Bethan　firmly。　'It's　magical；　isn't　it？'
　The　small　shopkeeper　hesitated。
　'Yes；'　he　reluctantly　agreed。　'A　bit。'
　'A　bit？'　said　Bethan。　'A　bit　magical？'
　'Quite　a　bit；　then；'　he　conceded；　backing　away；　and；　'All　right；'　he　agreed；　as　Bethan　continued　to　glare　at　him。　'It's　magical。　I　can't　help　it。　The　bloody　door　hasn't　been　and　gone　again；　has　it？'
　'Yes；　and　we're　not　happy　about　that　thing　in　the　ceiling。'
　He　looked　up；　and　frowned。　Then　he　disappeared　through　a　little　beaded　doorway　half…hidden　among　the　merchandise。　There　was　a　lot　of　clanking　and　whirring；　and　the　black　globe　disappeared　into　the　shadows。　It　was　replaced　by；　in　succession；　a　bunch　of　herbs；　a　mobile　advertising　something　Twoflower　had　never　heard　of　but　which　was　apparently　a　bedtime　drink；　a　suit　of　armour　and　a　stuffed　crocodile　with　a　lifelike　expression　of　extreme　pain　and　surprise。
　The　shopkeeper　reappeared。
　'Better？'　he　demanded。
　'It's　an　improvement；'　said　Twoflower；　doubtfully。　'I　liked　the　herbs　best。'
　At　this　point　Rincewind　groaned。　He　was　about　to　wake　up。
　

　There　have　been　three　general　theories　put　forward　to　explain　the　phenomenon　of　the　wandering　shops　or；　as　they　are　generically　known；　tabernae　vagantes。
　The　first　postulates　that　many　thousands　of　years　ago　there　evolved　somewhere　in　the　multiverse　a　race　whose　single　talent　was　to　buy　cheap　and　sell　dear。　Soon　they　controlled　a　vast　galactic　empire　or；　as　they　put　it；　Emporium；　and　the　more　advanced　members　of　the　species　found　a　way　to　equip　their　very　shops　with　unique　propulsion　units　that　could　break　the　dark　walls　of　space　itself　and　open　up　vast　new　markets。　And　long　after　the　orlds　of　the　Emporium　perished　in　the　heat　death　of　their　particular　universe；　after　one　last　defiant　fire　sale；　the　wandering　starshops　still　ply　their　trade；　eating　their　way　through　the　pages　of　spacetime　like　a　worm　through　a　three…volume　novel。
　The　second　is　that　they　are　the　creation　of　a　sympathetic　Fate；　charged　with　the　role　of　supplying　exactly　the　right　thing　at　the　right　time。
　The　third　is　that　they　are　simply　a　very　clever　way　of　getting　around　the　various　Sunday　Closing　acts。
　All　these　theories；　diverse　as　they　are；　have　two　things　in　mon。　They　explain　the　observed　facts；　and　they　are　pletely　and　utterly　wrong。
　

　Rincewind　opened　his　eyes　and　lay　for　a　moment　looking　up　at　the　stuffed　reptile。　It　was　not　the　best　thing　to　see　when　awakening　from　troubled　dreams　。　。　。
　Magic！　So　that's　what　it　felt　like！　No　wonder　wizards　didn't　have　much　truck　with　sex！
　Rincewind　knew　what　orgasms　were；　of　course；　he'd　had　a　few　in　his　time；　sometimes　even　in　pany；　but　nothing　in　his　experience　even　approximated　to　that　tight；　hot　moment　when　every　nerve　in　his　body　streamed　with　blue…white　fire　and　raw　magic　had　blazed　forth　from　his　fingers。　It　filled　you　and　lifted　you　and　you　surfed　down　the　rising；　curling　wave　of　elemental　force。　No　wonder　wizards　fought　for　power　。　。　。
　And　so　on。　The　Spell　in　his　head　had　been　doing　it；　though；　not　Rincewind。　He　was　really　beginning　to　hate　that　Spell。　He　was　sure　that　if　it　hadn't　frightened　away　all　the　other　spells　he'd　tried　to　learn　he　could　have　been　a　decent　wizard　in　his　own　right。　'
　Somewhere　in　Rincewind's　battered　soul　the　worm　of　rebellion　flashed　a　fang。
　Right；　he　thought。　You're　going　back　into　the　Octavo；　first　chance　I　get。
　He　sat　up。
　'Where　the　hell　is　this？'　he　said；　grabbing　his　head　to　stop　it　exploding。
　'A　shop；'　said　Twoflower　mournfully。
　'I　hope　it　sells　knives　because　I　think　I'd　like　to　cut　my　head　off；'　said　Rincewind。　Something　about　the　expression　of　the　two　opposite　him　sobered　him　up。
　'That　was　a　joke；'　he　said。　'Mainly　a　joke；　anyway。　Why　are　we　in　this　shop？'
　'We　can't　get　out；'　said　Bethan。
　'The　door's　disappeared；'　added　Twoflower　helpfully。
　Rincewind　stood　up；　a　little　shakily。
　'Oh；'　he　said。　'One　of　those　shops？'
　'All　right；'　said　the　shopkeeper　testily。　'It's　magical；　yes；　it　moves　around；　yes；　no；　I'm　not　telling　you　why　…'
　'Can　I　have　a　drink　of　water；　please？'　said　Rincewind。
　The　shopkeeper　looked　affronted。
　'First　no　money；　then　they　want　a　glass　of　water；'　he　snapped。　'That's　just　about　…'
　Bethan　snorted　and　strode　across　to　the　little　man；　who　tried　to　back　away。　He　was　too　late。
　She　picked　him