cb.imajica2-第54章

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　his　own　face　would　one　day　possess　such　severity；　then　he　returned　to　the　wall　at　the　bottom　of　the　bed　and　sat　on　his　haunches　there；　listening　to　the　slow　cadence　of　her　breath。
　His　mind　was　reeling　with　all　that　he'd　learned；　or　recollected；　in　the　room　above。　Like　so　much　of　the　magic　he'd　bee　acquainted　with；　the　working　of　the　Reconciliation　was　not　a　great　ceremonial。　Whereas　most　of　the　dominant　religions　of　the　Fifth　wallowed　in　ritual　in　order　to　blind　their　flocks　to　the　paucity　of　their　understanding…the　liturgies　and　requiems；　charts　and　sacraments　all　created　to　amplify　those　tiny　grains　of　prehension　the　holy　men　actually　possessed…such　theatrics　were　redundant　when　the　ministers　had　truth　in　their　grasp；　and　with　the　help　of　memory　he　might　yet　bee　one　such　minister。
　The　principle　of　the　Reconciliation　was　not　very　difficult　to　grasp；　he'd　discovered。　Every　two　hundred　years；　it　seemed；　the　In　Ovo　produced　a　kind　of　blossom：　a　five…petaled　lotus　which　floated　for　a　brief　time　in　those　lethal　waters；　immune　to　either　their　poison　or　their　inhabitants。　This　sanctuary　was　called　by　a　variety　of　names　but　most　simply；　and　most　often；　the　Ana。　In　it；　the　Maestros　would　gather；　carrying　there　analogues　of　the　Dominions　they　each　represented。　Once　the　pieces　were　assembled；　the　process　had　its　own　momentum。　The　analogues　would　fuse　and；　empowered　by　the　Ana；　burgeon；　driving　the　In　Ovo　back　and　opening　the　way　between　the　Reconciled　Dominions　and　the　Fifth。
　〃The　flow　of　things　is　towards　success；〃　the　mystif　had　said；　speaking　from　a　better　time。　〃It's　the　natural　instinct　of　every　broken　thing　to　make　itself　whole。　And　the　Imajica　is　broken　until　it's　Reconciled。〃
　〃Then　why　have　there　been　so　many　failures？〃　Gentle　had　asked。
　〃There　haven't　been　that　many；〃　Pie　had　replied。　〃And　they　were　always　destroyed　by　outside　forces。　Christos　was　brought　down　by　politics。　Pineo　was　destroyed　by　the　Vatican。　Always　people　from　the　outside；　destroying　the　Maestro's　best　intentions。　We　don't　have　such　enemies。〃
　Ironic　words；　with　hindsight。　Gentle　could　not　afford　such　placency　again；　not　with　Sartori　still　alive　and　the　chilling　image　of　Pie's　last　frantic　appearance　at　the　Erasure　still　in　his　head。
　It　was　no　use　dwelling　on　it。　He　put　the　sight　away　as　best　he　could；　settling　his　gaze　on　Celestine　instead。　It　was　difficult　to　think　of　her　as　his　mother。　Maybe；　among　the　innumerable　memories　he'd　garnered　in　this　house；　there　was　some　faint　recollection　of　being　a　babe　in　these　arms；　of　putting　his　toothless　mouth　to　these　breasts　and　being　nourished　there。　But　if　it　was　there；　it　escaped　him。　Perhaps　there　were　simply　too　many　years；　and　lives；　and　women；　between　now　and　that　cradling。　He　could　find　it　in　him　to　be　grateful　for　the　life　she'd　given　him；　but　it　was　hard　to　feel　much　more　than　that。
　After　a　time　the　vigil　began　to　depress　him。　She　was　too　like　a　corpse；　lying　there；　and　he　too　much　a　dutiful　but　loveless　mourner。　He　got　up　to　go；　but　before　he　quit　the　room　he　halted　at　her　bedside　and　stooped　to　touch　her　cheek。　He'd　not　laid　his　flesh　to　hers　in　twenty…three　or　…　four　decades；　and　perhaps；　after　this；　he　wouldn't　do　so　again。　She　wasn't　chilly；　as　he'd　expected　her　to　be；　but　warm；　and　he　kept　his　hand　upon　her　longer　than　he'd　intended。
　Somewhere　in　the　depths　of　her　slumber　she　felt　his　touch　and　seemed　to　rise　into　a　dream　of　him。　Her　austerity　softened；　and　her　pale　lips　said；　〃Child？〃
　He　wasn't　sure　whether　to　answer；　but　in　the　moment　of　hesitation　she　spoke　again；　the　same　question。　This　time　he　replied。
　〃Yes；　Mama？〃　he　said。
　〃Will　you　remember　what　I　told　you？〃
　What　now？　he　wondered。　〃I'm　。。。　not　certain；〃　he　told　her。'Til　try。〃
　〃Shall　I　tell　you　again？　I　want　you　to　remember；　child。〃
　〃Yes；　Mama；〃　he　said。　〃That　would　be　good。　Tell　me　again。〃
　She　smiled　an　infinitesimal　smile　and　began　to　repeat　a　story　she'd　apparently　told　many　times。
　〃There　was　a　woman　once；　called　Nisi　Nirvana。。。。〃
　She'd　no　sooner　started；　however；　than　the　dream　she　was　having　lost　its　claim　on　her；　and　she　began　to　slip　back　into　a　deeper　place；　her　voice　losing　power　as　she　went。
　〃Don't　stop；　Mama；〃　Gentle　prompted。　〃I　want　to　hear。　There　was　a　woman　。。。〃
　〃Yes。。。〃
　〃；。。　called　Nisi　Nirvana。〃
　〃Yes。　And　she　went　to　a　city　full　of　iniquities；　where　no　ghost　was　holy　and　no　flesh　was　whole。　And　something　there　did　a　great　hurt　to　her。。。。〃
　Her　voice　was　getting　stronger　again；　but　the　smile；　even　that　tiniest　hint；　had　gone。
　〃What　hurt　was　this；　Mama？〃
　〃You　needn't　know　the　hurt；　child。　You'll　learn　about　it　one　day；　and　on　that　day　you'll　wish　you　could　forget　it。　Just　understand　that　it's　a　hurt　only　men　can　do　to　women。〃
　〃And　who　did　this　hurt　to　her？〃　Gentle　asked。
　〃I　told　you；　child；　a　man。〃
　〃But　what　man？〃
　〃His　name　doesn't　matter。　What　matters　is　that　she　escaped　him；　and　came　back　into　her　own　city；　and　knew　she　must　make　a　good　thing　from　this　bad　that　had　been　done　to　her。　And　do　you　know　what　that　good　thing　was？〃
　〃No；　Mama。〃
　〃It　was　a　little　baby。　A　perfect　little　baby。　And　she　loved　it　so　much　it　grew　big　after　a　time；　and　she　knew　it　would　be　leaving　her；　so　she　said；　'I　have　a　story　to　tell　you　before　you　go。'　And　do　you　know　what　the　story　was？　I　want　you　to　remember；　child。〃
　〃Tell　me。〃
　〃There　was　a　woman　called　Nisi　Nirvana。　And　she　went　into　a　city　of　iniquities…〃
　〃That's　the　same　story；　Mama。〃
　〃…where　no　ghost　was　holy…〃
　〃You　haven't　finished　the　first　story。　You've　just　begun　again。〃
　〃…and　no　flesh　was　whole。　And　something　there…〃
　〃Stop；　Mama；〃　Gentle　said。　〃Stop。〃
　〃…did　a　great　hurt　to　her。。。。〃
　Distressed　by　this　loop；　Gentle　took　his　hand　from　his　mother's　cheek。　She　didn't　halt　her　recitation；　however；　at　least　not　at　first。　The　story　went　on　exactly　as　it　had　before：　the　escape　from　the　city；　the　good　thing　made　from　the　bad；　the　baby；　the　perfect　little　baby。　But　with　the　hand　no　longer　on　her　cheek　Celestine　was　sinking　back　into　unthinking　slumber；　her　voice　steadily　growing　more　indistinct。　Gentle　got　up　and　backed　away　to　the　door；　as　the　whispered　wheel　came　full　circle　again。
　〃So　she　said：　I　have　a　story　to　tell　you　before　you　go。〃
　Gentle　reached　behind　him　and　opened　the　door；　his　eyes　fixed　on　his　mother　as　the　words　slurred。
　〃And　do　you　know　what　the　story　was？〃　she　said。　〃I　want。。。　you　。。。　to　。。。　remember。。。　child。〃
　He　went　on　watching　her　as　he　slipped　out　into　the　hallway。　The　last　sounds　he　heard　would　have　been　nonsense　to　any　ear　other　than　this；　but　he'd　heard　this　story　often　enough　now　to　know　that　she　was　beginning　again　as　she'd　dropped　into　dreamlessness。
　〃There　was　a　woman　once　。。。〃
　On　that；　he　closed　the　door。　For　some　inexplicable　reason；　he　was　shaking；　and　had　to　stand　at　the　threshold　for　several　seconds　before　he　could　control　the　tremor。　When　he　turned；　he　found　Clem　at　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　sorting　through　a　selection　of　candles。
　〃Is　she　still　asleep？〃　he　asked　as　Gentle　approached。
　〃Yes；　Has　she　talked　to　you　at　all；　Clem？〃
　〃Very　little。　Why？〃
　〃I've　just　been　listening　to　her　tell　a　story　in　her　sleep。　Something　about　a　woman　called　Nisi　Nirvana。　Do　you　know　what　that　means？〃
　〃Nisi　Nirvana。　Unless　Heaven。　Is　that　somebody's　name？〃
　〃Apparently。　And　it　must　mean　a　lot　to　her；　for　some　reason。　That's　the　name　she　sent　Jude　with　to　fetch　me。〃
　〃And　what's　the　story？〃
　〃Damn　strange；〃　Gentle　said。
　〃Maybe　you　liked　it　better　when　you　were　a　kid。〃
　〃Maybe。〃
　〃If　I　hear　her　talking　again；　do　you　want　me　to　call　you　down？〃
　〃I　don't　think　so；〃　Gentle　said。　〃I've　got　it　by　heart　already。〃
　He　started　up　the　stairs。
　〃You're　going　to　need　some　candles　up　there；〃　Clem　said。　〃And　matches　to　light　'em　with。〃
　〃So　I　am；〃　Gentle　said；　turning　back。
　Clem　handed　over　half　a　dozen　candles；　thick；　stubby；　and　white。　Gentle　handed　one　of　them　back。
　〃Five's　the　magic　number；〃　he　said。
　〃I　left　some　food　at　the　top　of　the　stairs；〃　Clem　said　as　Gentle　started　to　climb　again。　〃It's　not　exactly　haute　cuisine；　but　it's　sustenance。　And　if　you　don't　claim　it　now　it'll　be　gone　as　soon　as　the　boy　gets　back。〃
　Gentle　called　his　thanks　back　down　the　flight；　picked　up　the　bread；　strawberries；　and　bottle　of　beer　waiting　at　the　top；　then　returned　to　the　Meditation　Room；　closing　the　door　behind　him。　Perhaps　because　he　was　still　preoccupied　with　what　he'd　heard　from　his　mother's　lips；　the　memories　of　Pie　were　not　waiting　at　the　threshold。　The　room　was　empty；　a　cell　of　the　present。　It　wasn't　until　Gentle　had　set　the　candles　on　the　mantelpiece；　and　was　lighting　one　of　them；　that　he　heard　the　mystif　speaking　softly　behind　him。
　〃Now　I've　distressed　you；〃　it　said。
　Gentle　turned　into　the　room　and　found　the　mystif　at　the　window；　where　it　so　often　loitered；　with　a　look　of　deep　concern　on　its　face。
　〃I　shouldn't　have　asked；〃　Pie　went　on。　〃It's　just　idle　curiosity。　I　heard　Abelove　asking　the　boy　Lucius　a　day　or　two　ago；　and　it　made　me　wonder。〃
　〃What　did　Lucius　say？〃
　〃He　said　he　remembered　being　suckled。　That　was　the　first　thing　he　could　recall：　the　teat　at　his　mouth。〃
　Only　now　did　Gentle　grasp　the　subject　under　debate　here。　Once　again　his　memory　had　found　some　fragment　of　conversation　between　himself　and　the　mystif　pertinent　to　his　present　concerns。　They'd　talked　of　childhood　memories　in　this　very　room；　and　the　Maestro　had　been　plunged　into　the　same　distress　which　he　felt　now；　and　for　the　same　reason。
　〃But　to　remember　a　story；〃　Pie　was　saying。　〃Particularly　one　you　didn't　like…〃
　〃It　wasn't　that　I　didn't　like　it；〃　the　Maestro　said。　〃At　least；　it　didn't　frighten　me；　the　way　a　ghost　story　might　have　done。　It　was　worse　than　that。。。。〃
　〃We　don't　have　to　talk　about　this；〃　Pie　said；　and　for　a　moment　Gentle　thought　the　conversation　was　going　to　fizzle　out　there。　He　wasn't　altogether　certain　he'd　have　minded　if　it　had。　But　it　seemed　to　have　been　one　of　the　unwritten　rules　of　this　house　that　no　inquiry　was　ever　fled　from；　however　disfiting。
　〃No；　I　want　to　explain　if　I　can；〃　the　Maestro　said。　〃Though　what　a　child　fears　is　sometimes　hard　to　fathom。〃
　〃Unless　we　can　listen　with　a　child's　heart；〃　Pie　said。
　〃That's　harder　still。〃
　〃We　can　try；　can't　we？　Tell　me　the　story。〃
　〃Well；　it　always　began　the　same　way。　My　mother　would　say；　I　want　you　to　remember；　child；　and　I'd　know　right　away　what　was　going　to　follow。　There　was　a　woman　called　Nisi　Nirvana；　and　she　went　into　a　city　full　of　iniquities。。。。〃
　Now　Gentle　heard　the　story　again；　this　time　from　his　own　lips；　told　to　the　mystif。　The　woman；　the　city；　the　crime；　the　child；　and　then；　with　a　sickening　inevitability；　the　story　beginning　again　with　the　woman　and　the　city　and　the　crime。
　〃Rape　isn't　a　very　pretty　subject　for　a　nursery　tale；〃　Pie　observed。
　〃She　never　used　that　word。〃
　〃But　that's　what　the　crime　is；　isn't　it？〃
　〃Yes；〃　he　said　softly；　though　he　was　unfortable　with　the　admission。　This　was　his　mother's　secret；　his　mother's　pain。　But　yes；　of　course；　Nisi　Nirvana　was　Celestine；　and　the　city　of　terrors　was　the　First　Dominion。　She'd　told　her　child　her　own　story；　encoded　in　a　grim　little　fable。　But　more　bizarrely　than　that；　she'd　folded　the　listener　into　the　tale；　and　even　the