uplift4.brightnessreef-第42章

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s　thick　as　my　wrist　anchored　it　to　the　ledge；　hanging　far　over　the　deep　blue　waters　of　the　Rift。　A　big　drum　carried　more　than　thirty　cables　of　Uriel's　best　hawser；　all　of　it　ending　at　our　gray…brown　vessel；　which　we　named　Wupbon's　Dream；　in　hope　of　placating　our　parents…and　those　in　the　local　munity　who　think　we're　doing　blasphemy。
　　Another　derrick　stands　alongside　the　first；　linked　to　an　even　bigger　drum。　This　one　doesn't　have　to　carry　the　bathy's　weight；　but　its　job　is　just　as　vital…keeping　a　tangle…free　length　of　double　hose　attached　to　our　little　craft；　so　that　clean　air　goes　in　and　bad　air　goes　out。　I　never　got　a　chance　to　ask　what　the　hoses　are　made　of；　but　it's　much　stronger　than　the　stitched　skink　bladders　we　four　had　planned　using；　back　when　we　started　thinking　about　this　adventure。
　　Uriel　had　made　other　changes…a　big　pressure　regulator；　high　strain　gaskets；　and　a　pair　of　eik　lights　to　cast　bright　beams　down　where　sunshine　never　reaches。
　　Again；　I　wondered…where　did　all　this　stuff　e　from？
　　It　surprised　us　that　Uriel　never　messed　much　with　the　bathy　itself…carved　from　a　single　hollowed…out　garu　trunk；　with　Ur…ronn's　beautiful　window　sealed　at　one　end。　In　front；　we　installed　two　hinged　grabber　arms　that　Ur…ronn　copied　out　of　a　book。　Our　little　craft　also　bore　wheels；　four　in　all；　mounted　so　Wuphon's　Dream　might　roll　along　the　muddy　sea　bottom。
　　Even　after　being　fitted　with　superwide　treads；　the　wheels　looked　familiar。　Especially　to　Huck。　She　had　kept　them　as　private　mementos　out　of　the　wreckage　of　her　home；　back　when　her　real　g'Kek　parents　were　killed　in　that　awful　avalanche。　With　typical　grim　humor；　Huck　named　them　Auntie　Rooben；　Uncle　Jovoon　Left；　and　Uncle　Jovoon　Right。　The　fourth　one　was　simply　Dad…till　I　made　her　stop　the　grisly　joke　and　call　them　One　through　Four　instead。
　　Using　wheels　would　normally　be　impossible　without　Galactic　technology。　A　turning　axle　would　tear　any　gasket　apart。　But　Huck's　macabre　stash　of　spare　parts　offered　a　solution。　Those　wondrous　g'Kek　magnetic　hubs　and　motivator　spindles　can　be　placed　on　either　side　of　the　hull；　without　actually　piercing　the　wood。　Huck　will　steer　the　forward　pair　of　wheels；　while　I'll　use　a　rotary　crank　to　power　the　driver　pair　in　back。
　　Which　covers　all　our　jobs　during　a　dive；　except　〃Captain〃　Pincer…Tip；　whose　world　of　bright　blue　water　we'll　pass　through　on　our　way　to　depths　no　qheuen　has　seen　since　their　sneakship　sank；　a　thousand　years　ago。　His　place　is　right　in　the　bubble　nose；　controlling　the　eik…lamps　and　shouting　instructions　how　the　rest　of　us　are　to　steer　and　push　or　grab　samples。
　　Why　does　he　get　to　be　in　charge？　Pincer　surely　never　impressed　anyone　as　the　brightest　member　of　our　gang。
　　First；　all　this　was　his　idea　from　the　start。　He　hand…or　rather　mouth…carved　most　of　the　Dream　all　by　himself；　during　scarce　free　time　between　school　and　day…work　in　the　crustacean　pens。
　　More　important；　if　that　beautiful　window　ever　starts　to　fail…or　any　of　the　other　gaskets…he's　the　one　least　likely　to　panic　when　salt　water　starts　spraying　about　the　cabin。　If　that　ever　happens；　it'll　be　up　to　Pincer　to　get　the　rest　of　us　out　somehow。　We've　all　read　enough　sea　and　space　tales　to　know　that's　a　pretty　good　definition　of　a　captain…the　one　you　all　better　listen　to　when　seconds　count　the　difference　'tween　life　and　death。
　　He'd　have　to　wait　awhile；　though；　before　taking　mand。　Our　first　test　dive　would　have　just　one　passenger；　a　volunteer　who　was　literally　〃born〃　for　the　job。
　　That　morning；　Tyug；　the　traeki；　laid　a　trail　of　scentomones　to　draw　the　little　partial　stack；　Ziz；　from　its　pen　to　where　Wuphon's　Dream　waited；　gleaming　in　the　sunshine。　Our　good　ship's　hull　of　polished　garuwood　was　so　bright　and　lovely…too　bad　the　open　blue　sky　is　normally　taken　as　a　bad　omen。
　　So　it　seemed　to　the　onlookers　watching　our　crew　from　a　nearby　bluff。　There　were　hoon　from　Wuphon　Port；　plus　some　local　reds；　and　urs　with　caravan　dust　on　their　flanks；　as　well　as　three　humans　who　must　have　e　a　hard　three…day　trek　from　The　Vale…all　of　them　with　nothing　better　to　do　than　trade　hearsay　about　the　star…ship；　or　ships；　said　to　have　landed　up　north。　One　rumor　said　everyone　at　the　Glade　was　already　dead；　executed　on　the　spot　by　vengeful　Galactic　judges。　Another　claimed　the　Holy　Egg　had　wakened　fully　at　last；　and　the　lights　some　saw　in　the　sky　were　the　souls　of　those　lucky　enough　to　be　at　Gathering　when　the　righteous　of　the　Six　were　transformed　and　sent　back　as　spirits　to　their　ancient　homes　among　the　stars。
　　Shave　my　legs　if　some　of　the　stories　weren't　beautiful　enough　to　make　me　wish　I'd　made　'em　up。
　　Not　all　the　onlookers　were　protestors。　Some　came　out　of　curiosity。　Huck　and　I　had　some　fun　with　Howerr…phuo；　who　is　second　nephew　by　adoption　to　the　Mayor's　junior　half…mother；　but　who　dropped　out　of　school　anyway；　on　account　of　he　claimed　not　to　like　the　way　Mister　Heinz　smells。　But　everyone　knows　Howerr…phuo　is　lazy；　and　anyway；　he　shouldn't　talk　about　the　hygienic　habits　of　others。
　　At　one　point　Howerr　slinked　up　to　ask　about　the　Dream　and　its　mission。　Nice　polite　questions；　mind　you。　But　he　seemed　to　barely　hear　our　answers。
　　Then　he　sort　of　eased　over　to　asking　questions　about　traekis；　gesturing　over　at　Tyug；　who　was　feeding　Ziz　in　ers　pen。
　　True；　we　have　a　pharmacist　in　Wuphon　Town；　but　still　there's　some　mystery　about　the　ringed　ones。　Sure　enough；　Huck　and　I　soon　got　the　gist　of　what　Howerr…phuo　was　going　on　about。　He　and　some　of　his　backwash　friends　had　a　wager　going；　about　traeki　sex　life；　and　he'd　been　elected　to　run　the　matter　past　us；　as　local　experts！
　　Sharing　a　wink；　Huck　and　I　quickly　emptied　his　head　of　all　the　nonsense　it　had　been　stuffed　with…then　proceeded　to　fill　it　back　up　with　our　own　imaginative　version。　Howerr　soon　looked　like　a　sailor　who　just　had　a　loose　tackle…pulley　carom　off　his　skull。　Glancing　furtively　at　his　feet；　he　hurried　off…no　doubt　to　check　for　〃ring　spores；〃　lest　he　start　growing　little　traekis　in　places　where　he'd　been　neglectful　about　washing。
　　I　don't　feel　much　guilt　over　it。　Anyone　standing　downwind　from　Howerr…phuo；　from　now　on；　oughta　thank　us。
　　I　was　going　to　ask　Huck　if　we　were　ever　that　dumb…then　I　recalled。　Didn't　she　once　convince　me　that　a　g'Kek　can　manage　to　be　her　own　mother　and　father？　I　swear；　she　had　made　it　sound　plausible　at　the　time；　though　for　the　life　of　me；　I　still　can't　figure　out　how。
　　For　the　first　couple　of　days；　the　spectators　mostly　lurked　beyond　a　line　in　the　sand；　drawn　by　Uriel　with　her　sage's　baton。　No　one　said　much　while　the　master　smith　was　around。　But　after　she　left；　some　took　to　yelling　slogans；　mostly　objecting　that　the　Midden　is　sacred；　not　a　place　for　conceited　gloss…addicts　to　go　sight…seeing。　Once　the　Vale　humans　arrived；　the　protests　got　better　organized；　with　banners　and　slogans　chanted　in　unison。
　　I　found　it　pretty　exciting；　like　a　scene　from　Summer　of　Love　or　Things　to　e；　all　full　of　righteous　dissent　for　a　cause。　To　a　humicker　like　me；　nothing　could　be　more　buff　than　forging　ahead　with　an　adventure　against　popular　opinion。　Seems　nearly　all　the　romantic　tales　I've　read　were　about　intrepid　heroes　persisting　despite　the　doubts　of　stick…in…the…mud　parents；　neighbors；　or　authority　figures。　It　reminded　me　of　the　book　my　nickname　es　from…where　the　people　of　Diaspar　try　to　keep　Alvin　from　making　contact　with　their　long…lost　cousins　in　faraway　Lys。　Or　when　the　Lysians　don't　want　him　going　back　home　with　news　of　their　rediscovered　world。
　　Yeah；　I　know　that's　fiction；　but　the　connection　stoked　my　resolve。　Huck　and　Ur…ronn　and　Pincer…Tip　said　they　all　felt　the　same。
　　As　for　the　mob；　well；　I　know　that　folks　who're　scared　can　get　unreasonable。　I　even　tried　once　or　twice　to　see　it　from　their　point　of　view。　Really；　I　did。
　　Boy；　what　a　bloat…torus　of　jeekee；　Ifni…slucking　skirls。　Hope　they　all　sit　on　bad　mulch　and　get　spin　vapors。
　　
　　XIV。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SLOPE
　　Legends
　　It　is　said　that　humans　on　Earth　spent　untold　generations　Iiving　in　brute　fear；　believing　a　myriad　things　that　no　sensible　person　would　ever　imagine。　Certainly　not　anyone　who　had　been　handed　truth　on　a　silver　platter…the　way　it　was　given　to　nearly　every　sapient　race　in　the　Five　Galaxies。
　　Earthlings　had　to　figure　it　all　out　for　themselves。　Slowly；　agonizingly；　humans　learned　how　the　universe　worked；　abandoning　most　of　the　fanciful　beliefs　they　carried　through　their　Iong；　dark　loneliness。　This　included　belief　in…
　　…the　divine　right　of　egotistical　kings；
　　…the　mental　incapacity　of　women；
　　…the　idea　that　a　wise　state　knows　all；
　　…the　idea　that　the　individual　is　always　right；
　　…the　sick…sweet　addiction　that　transforms　a　doctrine　from　a　mere　model　of　the　world　into　something　sacred；　worth　killing　for。
　　These　and　many　other　wild　concepts　eventually　joined　pixies　and　ufos　in　the　trunk　where　humans　finally　put　away　such　childish　things。　A　very　large　trunk。
　　Even　so；　the　newly　contacted　Galactics　saw　Earthlings　as　superstitious　primitives；　as　wolflings；　prone　to　weird　enthusiasms　and　peculiar；　unprovable　convictions。
　　How　ironic；　then；　is　the　role　reversal　that　we　see　on　Jijo；　where　Earthlings　found　the　other　five　far　regressed　down　a　road　humans　had　traveled　before；　wallowing　in　a　myriad　of　fables；　fantasies；　grudges；　and　vividly　absurd　notions。　To　this　maelstrom　of　superstition；　settlers　fresh　off　the　Tabernacle　contributed　more　than　paper　books。　They　also　brought　tools　of　logic　and　verification…the　very　things　Earthlings　had　to　fight　hardest　to　learn；　back　home。
　　Moreover；　with　their　own　history　in　mind；　Earthlings　became　voracious　collectors　of　folklore；　fanning　out　among　the　other　five　to　copy　down　every　tale；　every　belief；　even　those　they　demonstrated　to　be　false。
　　Out　of　their　wolfling　past　came　this　strange　mixture…reasoning　skepticism；　plus　a　deep　appreciation　of　the　peculiar；　the　bizarre；　the　extravagantly　vivid。
　　Amid　the　darkness；　humans　know　that　it　is　all　too　easy　to　lose　your　way；　if　you　forget　how　to　tell　what　is　true。　But　it　is　just　as　urgent　never　to　let　go　of　the　capacity　to　dream；　to　weave　the　illusions　that　help　us　all　make　it　through　this　dark；　dark　night。
　　…from　The　Art　of　Exile；
　　by　Auph…hu…Phwuhbhu
　　　
　　Asx
　　THE　TINY　ROBOT　WAS　A　WONDER　TO　BEHOLD。　NO　larger　than　a　g'Kek's　eyeball；　it　lay　pinned　down　to　the　ground　by　a　horde　of　attacking　privacy　wasps；　covered　by　their　crowded　fluttering　wings。
　　Lester　was　the　first　sage　to　ment；　after　the　initial　surprise。
　　〃Well；　now　we　know　why　they're　called　privacy　wasps。　Did　you　see　the　way　they　swarmed　over　that　thing？　Otherwise；　we'd　never　have　known　it　was　there。〃
　　〃A　device　for　spying；〃　surmised　Knife…Bright　Insight；　tipping　her　carapace　to　get　a　closer　look　at　the　machine。　〃Minuscule　and　mobile；　sent　to　listen　in　on　our　council。　We　would　have　been　helpless；　all　our　plans　revealed；　if　not　for　the　wasps。〃
　　Phwhoon…dau　concurred　with　a　deep　umble。
　　〃Hr…rm。。。。　We　are　used　to　seeing　the　insects　as　minor　irritants；　their　presence　required　by　tradition　for　certain　ceremonies。　But　the　Buyur　must　have　designed　the　wasps　for　just　such　a　purpose。　To　patrol　their　cities　and　homes；　thwarting　would…be　eavesdroppers。〃
　　〃Using　a　（specifically）　des