cb.imajica1-第10章

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nd　two　hundred　years　before　and　who　had　left　it　to　the　society　he　founded。　The　men　and　women　（eleven　in　all）　who　met　here　and　talked　for　a　few　hours　and　went　their　unremarkable　ways　were　the　descendants　of　the　impassioned　few　Roxborough　had　gathered　around　him　in　the　dark　days　following　the　failure　of　the　Reconciliation。　There　was　no　passion　among　them　now；　nor　more　than　a　vague　prehension　of　Roxborough's　purpose　in　forming　what　he'd　called　the　Society　of　the　Tabula　Rasa；　or　the　Clean　Slate。　But　they　met　anyway；　in　part　because　in　their　early　childhood　one　or　other　of　their　parents；　usually　but　not　always　the　father；　had　taken　them　aside　and　told　them　a　great　responsibility　would　fall　to　them…the　carrying　forward　of　a　hermetically　protected　family　secret…and　in　part　because　the　Society　looked　after　its　own。　Roxborough　had　been　a　man　of　wealth　and　insight。　He'd　purchased　considerable　tracts　of　land　during　his　lifetime；　and　the　profits　that　accrued　from　that　investment　had　ballooned　as　London　grew。　The　sole　recipient　of　those　monies　was　the　Society；　though　the　funds　were　so　ingeniously　routed；　through　panies　and　agents　who　were　unaware　of　their　place　in　the　system；　that　nobody　who　serviced　the　Society　in　any　capacity　whatsoever　knew　of　its　existence。
　Thus　the　Tabula　Rasa　flourished　in　its　peculiar；　purposeless　way；　gathering　to　talk　about　the　secrets　it　kept；　as　Roxborough　had　decreed；　and　enjoying　the　sight　of　the　city　from　its　place　on　Highgate　Hill。
　Kuttner　Dowd　had　been　here　several　times；　though　never　when　the　Society　was　assembled；　as　it　was　tonight。　His　employer；　Oscar　Godolphin；　was　one　of　the　eleven　to。　whom　the　flame　of　Roxborough's　intent　had　been　passed；　though　of　all　of　them　surely　none　was　so　perfect　a　hypocrite　as　Godolphin；　who　was　both　a　member　of　a　Society　mitted　to　the　repression　of　all　magical　activity；　and　the　employer　（Godolphin　would　have　said　owner）　of　a　creature　summoned　by　magic　in　the　very　year　of　the　tragedy　that　had　brought　the　Society　into　being。
　That　creature　was　of　course　Dowd；　whose　existence　was　known　to　the　Society's　members　but　whose　origins　were　not。　If　it　had　been；　they　would　never　have　summoned　him　here　and　allowed　him　access　to　the　hallowed　tower。　Rather；　they　would　have　been　bound　by　Roxborough's　edict　to　destroy　him　at　whatever　cost　to　their　bodies；　souls；　or　sanity　that　might　entail。　Certainly　they　had　the　expertise；　or　at　least　the　means　to　gain　it。　The　tower　reputedly　housed　a　library　of　treatises；　grimoires；　cyclopedias；　and　symposia　second　to　none；　collected　by　Roxborough　and　the　group　of　Fifth　Dominion　magi　who'd　first　supported　the　attempt　at　the　Reconciliation。　One　of　those　men　had　been　Joshua　Godolphin；　Earl　of　Bellingham。　He　and　Rox…borough　had　survived　the　calamitous　events　of　that　midsummer　almost　two　hundred　years　ago；　but　most　of　their　dearest　friends　had　not。　The　story　went　that　after　the　tragedy　Godolphin　had　retired　to　his　country　estate　and　never　again　ventured　beyond　its　perimeters。　Roxborough；　on　the　other　hand；　ever　the　most　pragmatic　of　the　group；　had　within　days　of　the　cataclysm　secured　the　occult　libraries　of　his　dead　colleagues；　hiding　the　thousands　of　volumes　in　the　cellar　of　his　house　where　they　could；　in　the　words　of　a　letter　to　the　Earl；　no　longer　taint　with　un…Christian　ambition　the　minds　of　good　men　like　our　dear　friends。　We　must　hereafter　keep　the　doing　of　this　damnable　magic　from　our　shores。　That　he　had　not　destroyed　the　books；　but　merely　locked　them　away；　was　testament　to　some　ambiguity　in　him；　however。　Despite　the　horrors　he'd　seen；　and　the　fierceness　of　his　revulsion；　some　small　part　of　him　retained　the　fascination　that　had　drawn　him；　Godolphin；　and　their　fellow　experimenters　together　in　the　first　place。
　Dowd　shivered　with　unease　as　he　stood　in　the　plain　hallway　of　the　tower；　knowing　that　somewhere　nearby　was　the　largest　collection　of　magical　writings　gathered　in　one　place　outside　the　Vatican；　and　that　among　them　would　be　many　rituals　for　the　raising　and　dispatching　of　creatures　like　himself。　He　was　not　the　conventional　stuff　of　which　familiars　were　made；　of　course。　Most　were　simpering；　mindless　functionaries；　plucked　by　then…　summoners　from　the　In　Ovo…　the　space　between　the　Fifth　and　the　Reconciled　Dominions…like　lobsters　from　a　restaurant　tank。　He；　on　the　other　hand；　had　been　a　professional　actor　in　his　time；　and　fgted　for　it。　It　wasn't　congenital　stupidity　that　had　made　him　susceptible　to　human　jurisdiction；　it　was　anguish。　He'd　seen　the　face　of　Hapexamendios　Himself　and；　half…crazed　by　the　sight；　had　been　unable　to　resist　the　summons；　and　the　binding；　when　it　came。　His　invoker　had　of　course　been　Joshua　Godolphin；　and　he'd　manded　Dowd　to　serve　his　line　until　the　end　of　time。　In　fact；　Joshua's　retirement　to　the　safety　of　his　estate　had　freed　Dowd　to　wander　until　the　old　man's　demise；　when　he　was　drawn　back　to　offer　his　services　to　Joshua's　son　Nathaniel；　only　revealing　his　true　nature　once　he'd　made　himself　indispensable；　for　fear　he　was　trapped　between　his　bounden　duty　and　the　zeal　of　a　Christian。
　In　fact；　Nathaniel　had　grown　into　a　dissolute　of　considerable　proportions　by　the　time　Dowd　entered　his　employ；　and　could　not　have　cared　less　what　kind　of　creature　Dowd　was　as　long　as　he　procured　the　right　kind　of　pany。　And　so　it　had　gone　on；　generation　after　generation；　Dowd　changing　his　face　on　occasion　（a　simple　trick；　or　feit）　so　as　to　conceal　his　longevity　from　the　withering　human　world。　But　the　possibility　that　one　day　his　double…dealing　would　be　discovered　by　the　Tabula　Rasa；　and　they　would　search　through　their　library　and　find　some　vicious　sway　to　destroy　him；　never　entirely　left　his　calculations：　especially　now；　waiting　for　the　call　into　their　presence。
　That　call　was　an　hour　and　a　half　in　ing；　during　which　time　he　distracted　himself　thinking　about　the　shows　that　were　opening　in　the　ing　week。　Theater　remained　his　great　love；　and　there　was　scarcely　a　production　of　any　significance　he　failed　to　see。　On　the　following　Tuesday　he　had　tickets　for　the　much…acclaimed　Lear　at　the　National　and　then；　two　days　later；　a　seat　in　the　stalls　for　the　revival　of　Turandot　at　the　Coliseum。　Much　to　look　forward　to；　once　this　wretched　interview　was　over；
　At　last　the　lift　hummed　into　life　and　one　of　the　Society's　younger　members；　Giles　Bloxham；　appeared。　At　forty；　Bloxham　looked　twice　that　age。　It　took　a　kind　of　genius；　Godolphin　had　once　remarked　when　talking　about　Bloxham　（he　liked　to　report　on　the　absurdities　of　the　Society；　particularly　when　he　was　in　his　cups）；　to　look　so　dissipated　and　have　nothing　to　regret　for　it。
　〃We're　ready　for　you　now；〃　Bloxham；　said；　indicating　that　Dowd　should　join　him　in　the　lift。　〃You　realize；〃　he　said　as　they　ascended；　〃that　if　you're　ever　tempted　to　breathe　a　word　of　what　you　see　here；　the　Society　will　eradicate　you　so　quickly　and　so　thoroughly　your　mother　won't　even　know　you　existed？〃
　This　overheated　threat　sounded　ludicrous　delivered　in　Bloxham's　nasal　whine；　but　Dowd　played　the　chastened　functionary。　〃I　perfectly　understand；〃　he　said。
　〃It's　an　extraordinary　step；〃　Bloxham　continued；　〃calling　anyone　who　isn't　a　member　to　a　meeting。　But　these　are　extraordinary　times。　Not　that　it's　any　of　your　business。〃　〃Quite　so；〃　Dowd　said；　all　innocence。　Tonight　he'd　take　their　condescension　without　argument；　he　thought；　more　confident　by　the　day　that　something　was　ing　that　would　rock　this　tower　to　its　foundations。　When　it　did；　he'd　have　his　revenge。
　The　lift　door　opened；　and　Bloxham　ordered　Dowd　to　follow　him。　The　passages　that　led　to　the　main　suite　were　stark　and　uncarpeted；　the　room　he　was　led　into；　the　same。　The　drapes　were　drawn　over　all　the　windows；　the　enormous　marble…topped　table　that　dominated　the　room　was　lit　by　overhead　lamps；　the　wash　of　their　light　thrown　up　on　the　five　members；　two　of　them　women；　sitting　around　it。　To　judge　by　the　clutter　of　bottles；　glasses；　and　overfilled　ashtrays；　and　the　brooding；　weary　faces；　they　had　been　debating　for　many　hours。　Bloxham　poured　himself　a　glass　of　water　and　took　his　place。　There　was　one　empty　seat：　Godolphin's。　Dowd　was　not　invited　to　occupy　it　but　stood　at　the　end　of　the　table；　mildly　disfited　by　the　stares　of　his　interrogators。　Not　one　face　among　them　would　have　been　known　by　the　populace　at　large。　Though　all　of　them　had　descended　from　families　of　wealth　and　influence；　these　were　not　public　powers。　The　Society　forbade　any　member　to　hold　office　or　take　as　a　spouse　an　individual　who　might　invite　or　arouse　the　curiosity　of　the　press。　It　worked　in　mystery；　for　the　demise　of　mystery。　Perhaps　it　was　that　paradox…more　than　any　other　aspect　of　its　nature…which　would　finally　undo　it。
　At　the　other　end　of　the　table　from　Dowd；　sitting　in　front　of　a　heap　of　newspapers　doubtless　carrying　the　Burke　reports；　sat　a　professorial　man　in　his　sixties；　white　hair　oiled　to　his　scalp；　Dowd　knew　his　name　from　Godolphin's　description：　Hubert　Shales；　dubbed　The　Sloth　by　Oscar。　He　moved　and　spoke　with　the　caution　of　a　glass…boned　theologian。
　〃You　know　why　you're　here？〃　he　said。
　〃He　knows；〃　Bloxham　put　in。
　〃Some　problem　with　Mr。　Godolphin？〃　Dowd　ventured。
　〃He's　not　here；〃　said　one　of　the　women　to　Dowd's　right；　her　face　emaciated　beneath　a　confection　of　dyed　black　hair。　Alice　Tyrwhitt；　Dowd　guessed。　〃That's　the　problem。〃
　〃So　I　see；〃　Dowd　said。
　〃Where　the　hell　is　he？〃　Bloxham　demanded。
　〃He's　traveling；〃　Dowd　replied。　〃I　don't　think　he　anticipated　a　meeting。〃
　〃Neither　did　we；〃　said　Lionel　Wakeman；　flushed　with　the　Scotch　he'd　imbibed；　the　bottle　lying　in　the　crook　of　his　arm。
　〃Where's　he　traveling？〃　Tyrwhitt　asked。　〃It's　imperative　we　find　him。〃
　〃I'm　afraid　I　don't　know；〃　Dowd　said。　〃His　business　takes　him　all　over　the　world。〃
　〃Anything　respectable？〃　Wakeman　slurred。
　〃He's　got　a　number　of　investments　in　Singapore；〃　Dowd　replied。　〃And　in　India。　Would　you　like　me　to　prepare　a　dossier？　I'm　sure　he'd　be…〃
　〃Bugger　the　dossier！〃　Bloxham　said。　〃We　want　him　here！　Now！〃
　〃I'm　afraid　I　don't　know　his　precise　whereabouts。　Somewhere　in　the　Far　East。〃
　The　severe　but　not　unalluring　woman　to　Wakeman's　left　now　entered　the　exchange；　stabbing　her　cigarette　in　the　ashtray　as　she　spoke。　This　could　only　be　Charlotte　Feaver：　Charlotte　the　Scarlet；　as　Oscar　called　her。　She　was　the　last　of　the　Roxborough　line；　he'd　said；　unless　she　found　a　way　to　fertilize　one　of　her　girlfriends。
　〃This　isn't　some　damn　club　he　can　visit　when　it　fucking　well　suits　him；〃　she　said。
　〃That's　right；〃　Wakeman　put　in。　〃It's　a　damn　poor　show。〃
　Shales　picked　up　one　of　the　newspapers　in　front　of　him　and　pitched　it　down　the　table　in　Dowd's　direction。
　〃I　presume　you've　read　about　this　body　they　found　in　Clerkenwell？〃　he　said。
　〃Yes。　I　believe　so。〃
　Shales　paused　for　several　seconds；　his　sparrow　eyes　going　from　one　member　to　another。　Whatever　he　was　about　to　say；　its　broaching　had　been　debated　before　Dowd　entered。
　〃We　have　reason　to　believe　that　this　man　Chant　did　not　originate　in　this　Dominion。〃
　〃I'm　sorry？〃　Dowd　said；　feigning　confusion。　〃1　don't　follow。　Dominion？〃
　〃Spare　us　your　discretion；〃　Charlotte　Feaver　said；　〃You　know　what　we're　talking　about。　Oscar　hasn't　employed　you　for　twenty…five　years　and　kept　his　counsel。〃
　〃I　know　very　little；〃　Dowd　protested。
　〃But　enough　to　know　there's　an　an