uplift4.brightnessreef-第16章

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lonely　isolation　on　old　Earth。　Most　people　took　such　things　for　granted　on　the　Slope。
　　But　to　a　clan　of　sooners…illegal　squatters　living　jealous　and　filthy　beyond　the　pale…they　might　seem　marvels；　worth　any　risk　to　steal。
　　Dwer　wondered；　was　this　the　only　time？　Perhaps　Rety　was　just　the　first　to　get　caught。　Some　thefts　blamed　on　noors　might　be　the　fault　of　other　robbers；　sneaking　over　the　mountains　from　a　far…off　hermit　tribe。
　　Was　that　your　idea？　To　swipe　the　first　worthwhile　thing　you　came　across　and　scoot　home　to　your　tribe；　a　hero？
　　Somehow；　he　figured　more　than　that　must　be　involved。　She　kept　peering　around；　as　if　looking　for　something　in　particular。　Something　that　mattered　to　her。
　　Dwer　watched　Rety　lead　the　captive　glaver　by　a　rope　tied　to　her　waist。　The　girl's　saucy　gait　seemed　meant　to　defy　him；　or　anyone　else　who　might　judge　her。　Between　clumps　of　grimy　hair；　he　was　nauseated　to　see　puckered　tracks　made　by　borer　bees；　a　parasite　easily　warded　off　with　traeki　salve。　But　no　traekis　lived　where　she　came　from。
　　It　forced　unfortable　thoughts。　What　if　his　own　grandparents　had　made　the　same　choice　as　Rety's？　To　flee　the　mons　for　whatever　reason；　seeking　far　reaches　to　hide　in？　Nowadays；　with　war…and　war's　refugees…a　thing　of　the　past；　sooners　were　rather　rare。　Old　Fallon　had　found　only　one　squatter　band　in　many　years　roaming　across　half　a　continent；　and　this　was　Dwer's　first　encounter。
　　What　would　you　do　if　you　were　raised　that　way；　scraping　for　a　living　like　animals；　knowing　a　land　of　wealth　and　power　lay　beyond　those　mountains　to　the　west？
　　Dwer　had　never　thought　of　the　Slope　that　way　before。　Most　scrolls　and　legends　emphasized　how　far　the　six　exile　races　had　already　fallen；　not　how　much　farther　there　was　yet　to　go。
　　That　night；　Dwer　used　tobar　seeds　to　call　another　clock　teet；　not　because　he　wanted　an　early　wakeup；　but　to　have　the　steady；　tapping　rhythm　in　the　background　while　he　slept。　When　Mudfoot　yowled　at　the　burst　of　aroma；　covering　his　snout；　Rety　let　out　a　soft　giggle　and　her　first　smile。
　　He　insisted　on　examining　her　feet　before　bed；　and　she　quietly　let　him　treat　two　blisters　showing　early　signs　of　infection。　〃We'll　have　healers　look　you　over　when　we　reach　Gathering；〃　he　told　her。　Neither　of　them　mented　when　he　kept　her　moccasins；　tucking　them　under　his　sleeping　roll　for　the　night。
　　As　they　lay　under　a　starry　canopy；　separated　by　the　dim　campfire　coals；　he　urged　Rety　to　name　a　few　constellations；　and　her　curt　answers　helped　Dwer　eliminate　one　momentous　possibility…that　some　new　group　of　human　exiles　had　landed；　destroying　their　ship　and　settling　to　brute　existence　far　from　the　Slope。　Rety　couldn't　realize　the　importance　of　naming　a　few　patterns　in　the　sky；　but　Dwer　erased　one　more　pinprick　of　worry。　The　legends　were　the　same。
　　At　dawn　Dwer　awoke　sniffing　something　in　the　air…a　familiar　odor；　almost　pleasant；　but　also　nervous…a　sensation　Lark　once　explained　mysteriously　as　〃negative　ions　and　water　vapor。〃　Dwer　shook　Rety　awake　and　hurriedly　led　the　glaver　under　a　rocky　overhang。　Mudfoot　followed；　moving　like　an　arthritic　g'Kek；　grumbling　hatred　of　mornings　with　every　step。　They　all　made　it　to　shelter　just　as　a　sheet…storm　hit…an　undulating　curtain　of　continuous　rain　that　crept　along　the　mountainside　from　left　to　right；　pouring　water　like　a　translucent　drapery　that　pummeled　everything　beneath；　soaking　the　forest；　one　wavy　ribbon　at　a　time。　Rety　stared　wide…eyed　as　the　rainbow…colored　tapestry　swept　by；　drenching　their　campsite　and　ripping　half　the　leaves　off　trees。　Obviously　she　had　never　witnessed　one　before。
　　The　trek　resumed。　Perhaps　it　was　a　night's　restful　sleep；　or　the　eye…opening　start　to　the　day。　But　Rety　now　seemed　less　sullen；　more　willing　to　enjoy　sights　like　a　meadow　full　of　bumble　flowers…yellow　tubes；　fringed　with　black　fuzz；　which　rode　the　steady　west　wind；　swooping　and　buzzing　at　the　end　of　tether…stems。　Rety's　eyes　darted；　enthralled　by　the　antic　dance　of　deception　and　pollination。　The　species　did　not　exist　in　the　stagnant　weather　shadow　beyond　the　Rimmers；　where　a　vast　plain　of　poison　grass　stretched　most　of　the　way　to　the　Gray　Hills。
　　Just　getting　here　across　all　that　was　an　acplishment；　Dwer　noted；　wondering　how　she　had　managed　it。
　　As　alpine　sheerness　gave　way　to　gentler　foothills；　Rety　gave　up　hiding　her　fierce　curiosity。　She　began　by　pointing　and　asking…〃Are　those　wooden　poles　holding　up　your　backpack？　Don't　they　make　it　heavy？　I'll　bet　they're　hollow。〃
　　Then…〃If　you're　a　hunter；　where's　the　rest　of　your　stalking　gang？　Or　do　you　always　hunt　alone？〃
　　In　rapid　succession　more　questions　followed。　〃Who　made　your　bow？　How　far　can　you　hit　somethin'　the　size　of　my　hand？
　　〃Did　you　live　in　one　place　the　whole　time　you　were　little？　In　a。。。　house？　Did　you　get　to　hold　on　to　stuff　you　wanted　to　keep；　'stead　of　leavin'　it　behind　when　you　moved？
　　〃If　you　grew　up　by　a　river；　did　you　ever　see　any　hoon？　What're　they　like？　I　hear　they're　tall　as　a　tree；　with　noses　long　as　your　arm。
　　〃Are　the　trikki　really　tricky？　Are　they　made　of　tree　sap？　Do　they　eat　garbage？
　　〃Do　noors　ever　slow　down？　I　wonder　why　Buyur　made　'em　that　way。〃
　　Other　than　her　habit　of　turning　Buyur　into　a　singular　proper　name；　Dwer　couldn't　have　phrased　the　last　question　any　better　himself。　Mudfoot　was　a　perpetual　nuisance；　getting　underfoot；　chasing　shrub　critters；　then　lying　in　ambush　somewhere　along　the　path；　squeaking　in　delight　when　Dwer　failed　to　pick　him　out　of　the　overhanging　foliage。
　　I　could　shake　you　easily；　if　I　didn't　have　a　glaver　and　a　kid　in　tow；　Dwer　thought　at　the　grinning　noor。　Yet　he　was　starting　to　feel　pretty　good。　They　would　make　quite　an　entrance　at　Gathering；　sure　to　be　the　talk　of　the　festival。
　　Over　lunch；　Rety　used　his　cooking　knife　to　prepare　a　scrub　hen　he　had　shot。　Dwer　could　barely　follow　her　whirling　hands　as　the　good　parts　landed　in　the　skillet　with　a　crackling　sizzle；　while　the　poison　glands　flew　to　the　waste　pit。　She　finished；　wiping　the　knife　with　a　flourish；　and　offered　it　back　to　him。
　　〃Keep　it；〃　Dwer　said；　and　she　responded　with　a　hesitant　smile。
　　With　that　he　ceased　being　her　jailor　and　became　her　guide；　escorting　a　prodigal　daughter　back　to　the　embrace　of　clan　and　mons。　Or　so　he　thought；　until　some　time　later；　during　the　meal；　when　she　said…〃I　really　ha'　seen　some　of　those　before。〃
　　〃Seen　some　of　what？〃
　　Rety　pointed　at　the　glaver；　placidly　chewing　under　the　shade　of　a　stand　of　swaying　lesser…boo。
　　〃You　thought　I　never　saw　any；　'cause　I　feared　she'd　bite。　But　I　seen　'em；　from　afar。　A　whole　herd。　Sneaky　devils；　hard　to　catch。　Took　the　guys　all　day　to　spear　'un。　They　taste　awful　gamey；　but　the　boys　liked　it　fine。〃
　　Dwer　swallowed　hard。　〃Are　you　saying　your　tribe　hunts　and　eats　glavers？〃
　　Rety　looked　back　with　brown　eyes　full　of　innocent　curiosity。　〃You　don't　on　this　side？　I'm　not　surprised。　There's　easier　prey；　an'　better　eatin'。〃
　　He　shook　his　head；　nauseated　by　the　news。
　　Part　of　him　chided…You　were　willing　to　shoot　this　particular　glaver　down；　stone　dead；　if　it　crossed　over　the　pass。
　　Yes；　but　only　as　a　last　resort。　And　I　wouldn't　eat　her！
　　Dwer　knew　what　people　called　him…the　Wild　Man　of　the　Forest；　living　beyond　the　law。　He　even　helped　nurse　the　mystique；　since　it　meant　his　awkward　speech　was　taken　for　something　more　manly　than　shyness。　In　truth；　killing　was　the　part　of　any　hunt　he　did　as　capably　and　swiftly　as　possible；　never　with　enjoyment。　Now；　to　learn　people　beyond　the　mountains　were　devouring　glavers！　The　sages　would　be　appalled！
　　Ever　since　surmising　that　Rety　came　from　a　sooner　band；　Dwer　had　known　his　duty　would　be　to　guide　a　militia　expedition　to　round　up　the　errant　clan。　Ideally；　it　would　be　a　simple　matter　of　firm　but　gentle　ingathering；　resettling　lost　cousins　back　into　the　fold　of　the　mons。　But　now；　Rety　had　unknowingly　indicted　her　tribe　with　another　crime。　The　Scrolls　were　clear。　That　which　is　rare；　you　shall　not　eat。　That　which　is　precious；　you　must　protect。　But；　above　all…You　may　not　devour　what　once　flew　between　the　stars。
　　Irony　was　ashen　in　Dwer's　mouth。　For　after　the　sooners　were　brought　back　for　trial；　his　job　then　would　be　to　collect　every　glaver　living　east　of　the　Rimmers…and　slaughter　those　he　could　not　catch。
　　Ah；　but　that　won't　make　me　a　bad　person　because　I　won't　eat　them。
　　Rety　must　have　sensed　his　reaction。　She　turned　to　stare　at　the　nearby　stand　of　great…boo；　its　young　shoots　barely　as　thick　as　her　waist。　The　tubelike　green　shafts　swayed　in　rippling　waves；　like　fur　on　the　belly　of　the　lazy　noor；　dozing　by　her　foot。
　　〃Are　they　gonna　hang　me？〃　the　girl　asked　quietly。　The　scar　on　her　face；　which　was　muted　when　she　smiled；　now　seemed　stretched　and　livid。　〃Old　Clin　says　you　slopies　hang　sooners　when　you　catch　〃em。〃
　　〃Nonsense。　Actually；　each　race　handles　its　own…〃
　　〃The　old　folks　say　it's　slopie　law。　Kill　anyone　who　tries　to　make　a　free　life　east　o'　the　Rimmers。〃
　　Dwer　stammered；　suddenly　awash　in　irritation；　〃If…　if　you　think　that；　why'd　you　e　all　this　way？　To…　to　stick　your　head　in　a　noose？〃
　　Rety's　lips　pressed。　She　looked　away　and　murmured　low。　〃You　wouldn't　believe　me。〃
　　Dwer　repented　his　own　flash　of　temper。　In　a　gentler　tone；　he　asked…〃Why　don't　you　try　me？　Maybe。。。　I　might　understand　better　than　you　think。〃
　　But　she　withdrew　once　more　into　a　cocoon　of　brooding　silence；　unresponsive　as　a　stone。
　　While　Dwer　hastily　rinsed　the　cooking　gear；　Rety　tied　herself　in　place　ahead　of　the　glaver；　even　though　he　had　said　she　could　walk　free。　He　found　his　cooking　knife　by　the　smothered　coals；　where　she　must　have　laid　it　after　those　sharp　words。
　　The　gesture　of　rejection　irked　him；　and　he　muttered　gruffly；　〃Let's　get　out　of　here。〃
　　
　　Asx
　　WE　HAD　CHOSEN　TO　FEIGN　A　SMALL　DISTINCTION　between　two　crimes。　At　best　a　slightly　lesser　felony…that　of　accidental　rather　than　planned　colonization。
　　No　one　could　deny　the　obvious…that　our　ancestors　had　loosed　unsanctioned　offspring　on　a　fallow　world。　But　Vubben's　artful　evasion　implied　an　act　of　culpable　carelessness；　rather　than　villainy　by　design。
　　The　lie　would　not　hold　for　long。　When　archaeological　traces　were　sifted；　forensic　detectives　from　the　Institutes　would　swiftly　perceive　our　descent　from　many　separate　landings；　not　one　mixed　crew　stranded　by　mishap　on　this　remote　shore。　Moreover；　there　was　the　presence　of　our　juniormost　sept…the　human　clan。　By　their　own　bizarre　tale；　they　are　a　wolfling…race；　unknown　to　Galactic　culture　until　just　three　hundred　Jijoan　years　ago。
　　Then　why　even　try　such　a　bluff？
　　Desperation。　Plus　a　frail　hope　that　our　〃guests〃　have　not　the　skill　or　tools　for　archaeology。　Their　goal　must　be　to　swoop　in　for　a　quick　sampling　of　hidden　treasures。　Then；　covering　their　tracks；　they　would　wish　a　swift；　stealthy　departure　with　a　ship's　hold　full　of　contraband。　To　this　mercenary　quest；　our　strange；　forlorn　colony　of　miscreants　offers　both　opportunity　and　a　threat。
　　They　must　know　we　possess　firsthand　knowledge　of　Jijo；　valuable　to　their　needs。
　　Alas；　my　rings。　Are　we　not　also　potential　witnesses　to　their　villainy？
　　
　　Sara
　　NOBODY　EXPECTED　AN　AMBUSH。　It　was　the　perfect　place　for　one。　Still；　no　one　aboard　the　Hau