cb.imajica1-第59章

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een　noticed。　Guards　had　appeared　on　the　cliff　top　and　along　the　prison's　parapet。　Figures　could　be　seen　hurrying　down　the　steps　that　wound　down　the　cliff　face；　heading　for　the　boats　moored　at　its　base。　From　the　shore　behind　them　rose　the　clamor　of　birds。
　〃They　finally　woke　up；〃　Gentle　said。
　Pie　looked　around。　Sunlight　was　lighting　the　beach；　and　the　wings　of　the　birds　as　they　rose　in　a　squalling　cloud。
　〃Oh；　Jesu；〃　Pie　said。
　〃What's　wrong？〃
　〃The　sea…〃
　Pie　didn't　need　to　explain；　for　the　same　phenomenon　that　was　crossing　the　Cradle's　surface　behind　them　was　now　ing　to　meet　them　from　the　island：　a　slow　shock　wave；　changing　the　nature　of　the　matter　it　passed　through。　Gentle　picked　up　speed；　closing　the　gap　between　the　vehicle　and　solid　ground；　but　the　road　had　already　liquified　pletely　at　the　island's　shore；　and　the　message　of　transformation　was　spreading　at　speed。
　〃Stop　the　car！〃　Pie　yelled。　〃If　we　don't　get　out　we'll　go　down　in　it。〃
　Gentle　brought　the　car　to　a　skidding　halt；　and　they　flung　themselves　out。　The　ground　beneath　them　was　still　solid　enough　to　run　on；　but　they　could　feel　tremors　in　it　as　they　went；　prophesying　dissolution。
　〃Can　you　swim？〃　Gentle　called　to　Pie。
　〃If　I　have　to；〃　the　mystif　replied；　its　eyes　on　the　approaching　tide。　The　water　looked　mercurial；　and　seemed　to　be　full　of　thrashing　fish。　〃But　I　don't　think　this　is　something　we　want　to　bathe　in；　Gentle。〃
　〃I　don't　think　we're　going　to　have　any　choice。〃
　There　was　at　least　some　hope　of　rescue。　Boats　were　being　launched　off　the　island's　shore；　the　sound　of　the　oars　and　the　rhythmical　shouts　of　the　oarsmen　rising　above　the　churning　of　the　silver　water。　The　mystif　wasn't　looking　for　hope　from　that　source；　however。　Its　eyes　had　found　a　narrow　causeway；　like　a　path　of　softening　ice；　between　where　they　stood　and　the　land。　Grabbing　Gentle's　arm；　it　pointed　the　way。
　〃I　see　it！〃　Gentle　replied；　and　they　headed　off　along　this　zigzag　route；　checking　on　the　position　of　the　two　boats　as　they　went。　The　oarsmen　had　prehended　their　strategy　and　changed　direction　to　intercept　them。　Though　the　flood　was　eating　at　their　causeway　from　either　side；　the　possibility　of　escape　had　just　seemed　plausible　when　the　sound　of　the　car　upending　and　slipping　into　the　waters　distracted　Gentle　from　his　dash。　He　turned　and　collided　with　Pie　as　he　did　so。　The　mystif　went　down；　falling　on　its　face。　Gentle　hauled　it　back　onto　its　feet；　but　it　was　momentarily　too　dazed　to　know　their　jeopardy。
　There　were　shouts　of　alarm　ing　from　the　boats　now；　and　the　frenzy　of　water　yards　from　their　heels。　Gentle　half　hoisted　Pie　onto　his　shoulders　and　picked　up　the　race　again。　Precious　seconds　had　been　lost；　however。　The　lead　boat　was　within　twenty　yards　of　them；　but　the　tide　was　half　that　distance　behind；　and　half　again　between　his　feet　and　the　bow。　If　he　stood　still；　the　floe　beneath　him　would　go　before　the　boat　reached　them。　If　he　tried　to　run；　burdened　with　the　semiconscious　mystif；　he'd　miss　his　rendezvous　with　his　rescuers。
　As　it　was；　the　choice　was　taken　from　him。　The　ground　beneath　the　bined　weight　of　man　and　mystif　fractured；　and　the　silver　waters　of　the　Chzercemit　bubbled　up　between　his　feet。　He　heard　a　shout　of　alarm　from　the　creature　in　the　nearest　boat…an　Oethac；　huge…headed　and　scarred…then　felt　his　right　leg　lose　six　inches　as　his　foot　plunged　through　the　brittle　floe。　It　was　Pie's　turn　to　haulhim　up　now；　but　it　was　a　lost　cause：　the　ground　would　support　neither　of　them。
　In　desperation　he　looked　down　at　the　waters　that　he　was　going　to　have　to　swim　in。　The　creatures　he'd　seen　thrashing　were　not　in　the　sea　but　t》/the　sea。　The　wavelets　had　backs　and　necks；　the　glitter　of　the　spume　was　the　glitter　of　countless　tiny　eyes。　The　boat　was　still　speeding　in　their　direction；　and　for　an　instant　it　seemed　they　might　bridge　the　gap　with　a　lunge。
　〃Go！〃　he　yelled　to　Pie；　pushing　as　he　did　so。
　Though　the　mystif　flailed；　there　was　sufficient　power　in　its　legs　to　turn　the　fall　into　a　jump。　Its　fingers　caught　the　edge　of　the　boat；　but　the　violence　of　its　leap　threw　Gentle　from　his　precarious　perch。　He　had　time　to　see　the　mystif　being　hauled　onto　the　rocking　boat；　and　time　too　to　think　he　might　reach　the　hands　outstretched　in　his　direction。　But　the　sea　was　not　about　to　be　denied　both　its　morsels。　As　he　dropped　into　the　silver　spume；　which　pressed　around　him　like　a　living　thing；　he　threw　his　hands　up　above　his　head　in　the　hope　that　the　Oethac　would　catch　hold　of　him。　All　in　vain。　Consciousness　went　from　him；　and；　uncaptained；　he　sank。
　
　
　26
　
　Gentle　woke　to　the　sound　of　a　prayer。　He　knew　before　sight　came　to　join　the　sound　that　the　words　were　a　beseech…ment；　though　the　language　was　foreign　to　him。　The　voices　rose　and　fell　in　the　same　unmelodious　fashion　as　did　earth　congregations；　one　or　two　of　the　half　dozen　speakers　lagging　a　syllable　behind；　leaving　the　verses　ragged。　But　it　was　nevertheless　a　wele　sound。　He'd　gone　down　thinking　he'd　never　rise　again。
　Light　touched　his　eyes；　but　whatever　lay　in　front　of　him　was　murky。　There　was　a　vague　texture　to　the　gloom；　however；　and　he　tried　to　focus　upon　it。　It　wasn't　until　his　brow；　cheeks；　and　chin　reported　their　irritation　to　his　brain　that　he　realized　why　his　eyes　couldn't　make　sense　of　the　scene。　He　was　lying　on　his　back；　and　there　was　a　cloth　over　his　face。　He　told　his　arm　to　rise　and　pluck　it　away；　but　the　limb　just　lay　stupid　at　his　side。　He　concentrated；　demanding　it　obey；　his　irritation　growing　as　the　timber　of　the　supplications　changed　and　a　distressing　urgency　came　into　them。　He　felt　the　bed　he　was　lying　on　jostled；　and　tried　to　call　out　in　alarm；　but　there　was　something　in　his　throat　that　prevented　him　from　making　a　sound。　Irritation　became　unease。　What　was　wrong　with　him？　Be　calm；　he　told　himself。　It'll　e　clear；　just　be　calm。　But　damn　it；　the　bed　was　being　lifted　up！　Where　was　he　being　taken？　To　hell　with　calm。　He　couldn't　just　lie　still　while　he　was　paraded　around。　He　wasn't　dead；　for　God's　sake！
　Or　was　he？　The　thought　shredded　every　hope　of　equilibrium。　He　was　being　lifted　up；　and　carried；　lying　inert　on　a　hard　board　with　his　face　beneath　a　shroud。　What　was　that；　if　it　wasn't　dead？　They　were　saying　prayers　for　his　soul；　hoping　to　waft　it　heavenward；　meanwhile　carrying　his　remains　to　what　dispatch？　A　hole　in　the　ground？　A　pyre？　He　had　to　stop　them：　raise　a　hand；　a　moan；　anything　to　signal　that　this　leave…taking　was　premature。　As　he　was　concentrating　on　making　a　sign；　however　primitive；　a　voice　cut　through　the　prayers。　Both　prayers　and　bier　bearers　stumbled　to　a　halt　and　the　same　voice…it　was　Pie！…came　again。
　〃Not　yet！〃　it　said。
　Somebody　off　to　Gentle's　right　murmured　something　in　a　language　Gentle　didn't　recognize：　words　of　consolation；　perhaps。　The　mystif　responded　in　the　same　tongue；　its　voice　fractured　with　grief。
　A　third　speaker　now　entered　the　exchange；　his　purpose　undoubtedly　the　same　as　his　patriot's：　coaxing　Pie　to　leave　the　body　alone。　What　were　they　saying？　That　the　corpse　was　just　a　husk；　an　empty　shadow　of　a　man　whose　spirit　was　gone　into　a　better　place？　Gentle　willed　Pie　not　to　listen。　The　spirit　was　here！　Here！
　Then…joy　of　joys！…the　shroud　was　pulled　back　from　his　face；　and　Pie　appeared　in　his　field　of　vision；　staring　down　at　him。　The　mystif　looked　half　dead　itself；　its　eyes　raw；　its　beauty　bruised　with　sorrow。
　I'm　saved；　Gentle　thought。　Pie　sees　that　my　eyes　are　open；　and　there's　more　than　putrefaction　going　on　in　my　skull。　But　no　such　prehension　came　into　Pie's　face。　The　sight　simply　brought　a　new　burst　of　tears。　A　man　came　to　Pie's　side；　his　head　a　cluster　of　crystalline　growths；　and　laid　his　hands　on　the　mystif　s　shoulders；　whispering　something　in　its　ear　and　gently　tugging　it　away。　Pie's　fingers　went　to　Gentle's　face　and　lay　for　a　few　seconds　close　to　his　lips。　But　his　breath…which　he'd　used　to　shatter　the　wall　between　Dominions…was　so　piffling　now　it　went　unfelt；　and　the　fingers　were　withdrawn　by　the　hand　of　Pie's　consoler；　who　then　reached　down　and　drew　the　shroud　back　over　Gentle's　face。
　The　prayer　sayers　picked　up　their　dirge；　and　the　bearers　their　burden。　Blinded　again；　Gentle　felt　the　spark　of　hope　extinguished；　replaced　with　panic　and　anger。　Pie　had　always　claimed　such　sensitivity。　How　was　it　possible　that　now；　when　empathy　was　essential；　the　mystif　could　be　immune　to　the　jeopardy　of　the　man　it　claimed　as　a　friend？　More　than　that：　a　soul　mate；　someone　it　had　reconfigured　its　flesh　for。
　Gentle's　panic　slowed　for　an　instant。　Was　there　some　half　hope　buried　amid　these　rebukes？　He　scoured　them　for　a　clue。　Soul　mate？　Reconfigured　flesh？　Yes；　of　course：　as　long　as　he　had　thought　he　had　desire；　and　desire　could　touch　the　mystif；　change　the　mystif。　If　he　could　put　death　from　his　mind　and　turn　his　thoughts　to　sex　he　might　still　touch　Pie's　protean　core：　bring　about　some　metamorphosis；　however　small；　that　would　signal　his　sentience。
　As　if　to　confound　him；　a　remark　of　Klein's　drifted　into　his　head；　recalled　from　another　world。　〃All　that　time　wasted；〃　Klein　had　said；　〃meditating　on　death　to　keep　yourself　from　ing　too　soon。　。　。。〃
　The　memory　seemed　mere　distraction；　until　he　realized　that　it　was　precisely　the　mirror　of　his　present　plight。　Desire　was　now　his　only　defense　against　premature　extinction。　He　turned　his　thoughts　to　the　little　details　that　were　always　a　stimulus　to　his　erotic　imagination：　a　nape　bared　by　lifted　curls；　lips　rewetted　by　a　slow　tongue；　looks；　touches；　dares。　But　thanatos　had　eros　by　the　neck。　His　terror　drove　arousal　away。　How　could　he　hold　a　sexual　thought　in　his　head　long　enough　to　influence　Pie　when　either　the　flame　or　the　grave　was　waiting　at　his　feet？　He　was　ready　for　neither。　One　was　too　hot；　the　other　too　cold；　one　bright；　the　other　so　very　dark。　What　he　wanted　was　a　few　more　weeks；　days…hours；　even；　he'd　be　grateful　for　hours…in　the　space　between　such　poles。　Where　flesh　was；　where　love　was。
　Knowing　the　death　thoughts　couldn't　be　mastered；　he　attempted　one　final　gambit：　to　embrace　them；　to　fold　them　into　the　texture　of　his　sexual　imaginings。　Flame？　Let　that　be　the　heat　of　the　mystif　s　body　as　it　was　pressed　against　him；　and　cold　the　sweat　on　his　back　as　they　coupled。　Let　the　darkness　be　a　night　that　concealed　their　excesses；　and　the　pyre　blaze　like　their　mutual　consumption。　He　could　feel　the　trick　working　as　he　thought　this　through。　Why　should　death　be　so　unerotic？　If　they　blistered　or　rotted　together；　mightn't　their　dissolution　show　them　new　ways　to　love；　uncovering　them　layer　by　layer　and　joining　their　moistures　and　their　marrows　until　they　were　utterly　mingled？
　He'd　proposed　marriage　to　Pie　and　been　accepted。　The　creature　was　his　to　have　and　hold；　to　make　over　and　over；　in　the　image　of　his　fondness　and　most　forbidden　desires。　He　did　so　now。　He　saw　the　creature　naked　and　astride　him；　changing　even　as　he　touched　it；　throwing　off　skins　like　clothes。　Jude　was　one　of　those　skins；　and　Vanessa　another；　and　Martine　another　still。　They　were　all　riding　him　high：　the　beauty　of　the　world　impaled　on　his　prick。
　Lost　in　this　fantasy；　he　wasn't　even　aware　that　the　prayers　had　stopped　until　the　bier　was　halted　once　again。　There　were　whispers　all　around　him；　and　in　the　middle　of　the　whispers　soft　and　astonished　laughter。　The　shroud　was　snatched　away；　and