uplift4.brightnessreef-第33章

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true；　the　crime　has　no…what　did　the　ancients　call　it？…no　sculpture　of　limitations？　No　time　limit　for　punishing　perpetrators。　Individuals　from　the　foray　party　might　be　long　dead；　but　not　the　species　or　Galactic　clan　they　represent；　which　can　still　be　sanctioned；　from　the　eldest　patron　race　down　to　the　youngest　client。　Even　a　million　years　is　short　by　the　reckoning　of　the　Great　Library；　whose　memory　spans　a　thousand　times　that　long。〃
　　〃But　the　sages　don't　think　we'll　even　be　around　in　a　million　years！　The　ancestors'　plan…the　Scrolls…〃
　　〃Gene　raiders　can't　count　on　that；　Sara。　It's　too　serious　a　felony。〃
　　Sara　shook　her　head。　〃All　right；　let's　say　some　distant　descendants　of　the　Six　are　still　around　by　then；　telling　blurry　legends　about　something　that　happened　long　ago。　Who　would　believe　their　story？〃
　　Engril　lifted　her　shoulders。　〃I　can't　say。　Records　show　there　are　many　jealous；　even　feuding；　factions　among　the　oxygen…breathing　clans　of　the　Five　Galaxies。　Perhaps　all　it　would　take　is　a　hint；　just　a　clue；　to　put　rivals　on　the　scent。　Given　such　a　hint；　they　might　sift　the　biosphere　of　Jijo　for　stronger　proof。　The　entire　crime　could　e　unraveled。〃
　　Silence　fell　as　Sara　pondered。　In　Galactic　society；　the　greatest　treasures　were　biological…especially　those　rare　natural　species　rising　now　and　then　out　of　fallow　worlds。　Species　with　a　spark　called　Potential。　Potential　to　be　uplifted。　To　be　adopted　by　a　patron　race　and　given　a　boost…through　teaching　and　genetic　manipulation…crucial　to　cross　the　gap　from　mere　clever　beasts　to　starfaring　citizens。　Crucial；　unless　one　believed　the　Earthlihgs'　legend　of　lonely　transcendence。　But　who　in　all　the　Five　Galaxies　credited　that　nonsense？
　　Both　wilderness　and　civilization　had　roles　to　play　in　the　process　by　which　intelligent　life　renewed　itself。　Neither　could　do　it　alone。　The　plex；　draconian　rules　of　migration…including　forced　abandonment　of　planets；　systems；　even　whole　galaxies…were　meant　to　give　biospheres　time　to　recover　and　cultivate　feral　potential。　New　races　were　then　apportioned　for　adoption；　according　to　codes　time…tested　over　aeons。
　　The　raiders　hoped　to　bypass　those　codes。　To　find　something　precious　here　on　Jijo；　off　limits　and　ahead　of　schedule。　But　then；　even　if　they　made　a　lucky　strike；　what　could　they　do　with　their　treasure？
　　Take　some　mated　pairs　far　away　from　here；　to　some　world　the　thieves　already　control；　and　seed　the　stock　quietly；　nudging　them　along　with　gene　infusions　so　they　fit　into　a　natural…seeming　niche。　Then　wait　patiently　for　millennia；　or　much　longer；　till　the　time　seems　right　to　〃find〃　the　treasure；　right　under　their　noses。　Eureka！
　　〃So　you're　saying；〃　she　resumed；　〃the　raiders　may　not　want　to　leave　witnesses。　But　then　why　land　here　on　the　Slope？　Why　not　beyond　the　Sunrise　Desert；　or　even　the　small　continent　on　the　far　side　of　Jijo；　instead　of　barging　in　on　us！〃
　　Engril　shook　her　head。　〃Who　can　say？　The　forayers　claim　to　want　our　expertise；　and　they　say　they're　willing　to　pay　for　it。　But　we　are　the　ones　likely　to　pay　in　the　end。〃
　　Sara　felt　her　heart　thud。　〃They　have　to　kill　us　all。〃
　　〃There　may　be　less　drastic　answers。　But　that's　the　one　that　strikes　the　sages　as　most　practical。〃
　　〃Practical！〃
　　〃From　the　raiders'　point　of　view；　of　course。〃
　　Sara　absorbed　this　quietly。　To　think；　part　of　me　looked　forward　to　meeting　Galactics；　and　maybe　asking　to　peek　at　their　portable　libraries。
　　Through　the　door　to　Engril's　workshop；　she　glimpsed　the　copier's　assistants　hard　at　work。　One　girl　piloted　a　coelostat；　a　big　mirror　on　a　long　arm　that　followed　the　sun；　casting　a　bright　beam　through　the　window　onto　whatever　document　was　being　duplicated。　A　moving　slit　scanned　that　reflected　light　across　a　turning　drum　of　precious　metal；　cranked　by　two　strong　men；　causing　it　to　pick　up　carbon　powder　from　a　tray；　pressing　it　on　fresh　pages；　making　photostatic　duplicates　of　drawings；　art　works；　designs…anything　but　typescript　text；　which　was　cheaper　to　reproduce　on　a　printing　press。
　　Since　this　technology　came　to　Jijo；　nothing　so　dire　had　ever　been　copied。
　　〃This　is　awful　news；〃　Sara　murmured。
　　Engril　agreed。　〃Alas；　child；　it's　not　the　worst。　Not　by　far。〃　The　old　woman　motioned　toward　the　report。　〃Read　on。〃
　　Hands　trembling；　Sara　turned　more　sheets　over。　Her　own　memory　of　the　starship　was　of　a　blurry　tablet；　hurtling　overhead；　shattering　the　peaceful　life　of　Dolo　Village。　Now　sketches　showed　the　alien　cylinder　plain　as　day；　even　more　fearsome　standing　still　than　it　had　seemed　in　motion。　Measurements　of　its　scale；　prepared　by　engineering　adepts　using　arcane　means　of　triangulation；　were　hard　to　believe。
　　Then　she　turned　another　page　and　saw　two　of　the　plunderers　themselves。
　　She　stared；　dismayed；　at　the　portrayal。　〃My　God。〃
　　Engril　nodded。　〃Indeed。　Now　you　see　why　we　delayed　printing　a　new　edition　of　the　Dispatch。　Already　some　hotheads　among　the　qheuens　and　urs；　and　even　a　few　traeki　and　hoon；　have　begun　muttering　about　human　collusion。　There's　even　talk　of　breaking　the　Great　Peace。
　　〃Of　course；　it　may　never　e　to　that。　If　the　interlopers　find　what　they　seek　soon　enough；　there　may　not　he　time　for　war　to　break　out　among　the　Six。　We　human　exiles　may　get　to　prove　our　loyalty　in　the　most　decisive　way…by　dying　alongside　everyone　else。〃
　　Engril's　bleak　prospect　made　awful　sense。　But　Sara　looked　at　the　older　woman；　shaking　her　head。　〃You're　wrong。　That's　not　the　worst　thing。〃　Her　voice　was　hoarse　with　worry。　Engril　looked　back　at　her；　puzzled。　〃What　could　be　worse　than　annihilation　of　every　sapient　being　on　the　Slope？〃
　　Sara　lifted　the　sketch；　showing　a　man　and　a　woman；　unmistakably　human；　caught　unawares　by　a　hidden　artist　as　they　looked　down　haughtily　on　Jijo's　savages。
　　〃Our　lives　mean　nothing；〃　she　said；　tasting　bitter　words。　〃We　were　doomed　from　the　moment　our　ancestors　planted　their　outlaw　seed　on　this　world。　But　these〃…she　shook　the　paper　angrily…〃these　fools　are　dabbling　in　an　ancient　game　no　human　being　could　possibly　know　how　to　play　well。
　　〃They'll　perform　their　theft；　then　slay　us　to　erase　all　witnesses；　only　to　get　caught　anyway。
　　〃And　when　that　happens；　the　real　victim　will　be　Earth。〃
　　
　　Asx
　　THEY　HAVE　FOUND　THE　VALLEY　OF　THE　innocents。　We　tried　hard　to　conceal　it；　did　we　not；　my　rings？　Sending　them　to　a　far…off　vale…the　glavers；　lorniks；　chimpanzees；　and　zookirs。　And　those　children　of　our　Six　who　came　to　Gathering　with　their　parents；　before　the　ship　pierced　our　lives。
　　Alas；　all　efforts　at　concealment　were　unavailing。　A　robot　from　the　black　station　followed　their　warm　trail　through　the　forest　to　a　sanctuary　that　was　not　as　secret　as　we　hoped。
　　Among　our　sage　pany；　Lester　was　the　least　surprised。
　　〃They　surely　expected　us　to　try　hiding　what　we　value　most。　They　must　have　sought　the　deep…red　heat　spoor　of　our　refugees；　before　it　could　dissipate。〃　His　rueful　smile　conveyed　regret　but　also　respect。　〃It's　what　I　would　have　done；　if　I　were　them。〃
　　Anglic　is　a　strange　language；　in　which　the　subjunctive　form　allows　one　to　make　suppositions　about　impossible　might…have…beens。　Thinking　in　that　tongue；　i　（within　my/our　second　ring…of…cognition）　understood　Lester's　expression　of　grudging　admiration；　but　then　i　found　it　hard　to　translate　for　my/our　other　selves。
　　No；　our　human　sage　is　not　contemplating　betrayal。
　　Only　through　insightful　empathy　can　he/we　learn　to　understand　the　invaders。
　　Ah；　but　our　foes　learn　about　us　much　faster。　Their　robots　flutter　over　the　once…secret　glen；　recording；　analyzing…then　swooping　to　nip　cell　or　fluid　samples　from　frightened　lorniks　or　chimps。　Next；　they　want　us　to　send　individuals　of　each　species　for　study；　and　seek　to　learn　our　spoken　lore。　Those　g'Kek　who　know　zookirs　best；　the　humans　who　work　with　chimps；　and　those　qheuens　whose　lorniks　win　medallions　at　festivals…these　〃native　experts〃　must　e　share　their　rustic　expertise。　Though　the　interlopers　speak　softly　of　paying　well　（with　trinkets　and　beads？）；　there　is　also　implied　pulsion　and　threat。
　　our　rings　quiver；　surprised；　when　Lester　expresses　satisfaction。
　　〃They　must　think　they've　uncovered　our　most　valued　secrets。〃
　　〃Have　they　not？〃　plains　Knife…Bright　Insight；　snapping　a　claw。　〃Are　not　our　greatest　treasures　those　who　depend　on　us？〃
　　Lester　nods。　〃True。　But　we　could　never　have　hidden　them　for　long。　Not　when　higher　life…forms　are　the　very　thing　the　invaders　desire。　It's　what　they　expect　us　to　conceal。
　　〃But　now；　if　they　are　smug；　even　satiated　for　a　while；　we　may　distract　them　from　learning　about　other　things；　possible　advantages　that　offer　us…and　our　dependents…a　slim　ray　of　hope。〃
　　〃How　can　that　ve？〃　demanded　Ur…Jah；　grizzled　and　careworn；　shaking　her　black…streaked　mane。　〃As　you　said…what　can　we　conceal？　They　need　only　pose　their　foul　questions；　and　those　profane　rovots　gallop　forth；　piercing　any　secret　to　its　hoof　and　heart。〃
　　〃Exactly；〃　Lester　said。　〃So　the　important　thing　is　to　keep　them　from　asking　the　right　questions。〃
　　
　　Dwer
　　HIS　FIRST　WAKING　THOUGHT　WAS　THAT　HE　MUST　be　buried　alive。　That　he　lay…alternately　shivering　and　sweltering…in　some　forgotten　sunless　crypt。　A　place　for　the　dying　or　the　dead。
　　But　then；　he　wondered　muzzily；　what　stony　place　ever　felt　like　this？　So　sweaty。　Threaded　by　a　regular；　thudding　rhythm　that　made　the　padded　floor　seem　to　tremble　beneath　him。
　　Still　semi…incoherent…with　eyelids　stubbornly　stuck　closed…he　recalled　how　some　river　hoons　sang　of　an　afterlife　spent　languishing　within　a　narrow　fetid　space；　listening　endlessly　to　a　tidal　growl；　the　pulse…beat　of　the　universe。　That　fate　seemed　all　too　plausible　in　Dwer's　fading　delirium；　while　he　struggled　to　shake　off　the　wrappers　of　sleep。　It　felt　as　if　fiendish　imps　were　poking　away　with　sharp　utensils；　taking　special　pains　with　his　fingers　and　toes。
　　As　more　roiling　thoughts　swam　into　focus；　he　realized　the　clammy　warmth　was　not　the　rank　breath　of　devils。　It　carried　an　aroma　much　more　familiar。
　　So　was　the　incessant　vibration；　though　it　seemed　higher…pitched；　more　uneven　than　the　throaty　version　he'd　grown　up　with；　resounding　through　each　night's　slumber；　when　he　was　a　boy。
　　It's　a　water　wheel。　I'm　inside　a　dam！
　　The　chalky　smell　stung　his　sinuses　with　memory。　A　qheuen　dam。
　　His　rousing　mind　pictured　a　hive　of　twisty　chambers；　packed　with　spike…clawed；　razor…tooth　creatures；　scrambling　over　each　other's　armored　backs；　separated　by　just　one　thin　wall　from　a　murky　lake。　In　other　words；　he　was　in　one　of　the　safest；　most　heartening　places　he　could　ask。
　　But。。。　how？　The　last　thing　I　recall　was　lying　naked　in　a　snowstorm；　halfway　gone；　with　no　help　in　sight。
　　Not　that　Dwer　was　astonished　to　be　alive。　I've　always　been　lucky；　he　thought；　though　it　dared　fate　to　muse　on　it。　Anyway；　Ifni　clearly　wasn't　finished　with　him　quite　yet；　not　when　there　were　still　more　ways　to　lure　him　down　trails　of　surprise　and　fate。
　　It　took　several　tries　to　open　his　heavy；　reluctant　eyelids；　and　at　first　the　chamber　seemed　a　dim　blur。　Tardy　tears　washed　and　diffused　the　sole　light…a　flame…flicker　ing　from　his　left。
　　〃Uh！〃　Dwer　jerked　back　as　a　dark　shape　loomed。　The　shadow　resolved　into　a　stubby　face；　black　eyes　glittering；　tongue　lolling　between