uplift4.brightnessreef-第43章

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o　patrol　their　cities　and　homes；　thwarting　would…be　eavesdroppers。〃
　　〃Using　a　（specifically）　designed　life…form　to　deal　with　the　（annoying）　threat…indeed；　that　would　have　been　the　Buyur　way；〃　added　Ur…Jah。
　　Lester　leaned　close　to　peer　at　the　wasps；　whose　wings　rippled　in　front　of　the　robot's　tiny　eyes；　beating　a　maze　of　colors　that　reminded　me/us　of　rewq。
　　〃I　wonder　what　the　wasps　are　showing　it；〃　murmured　our　human　sage。
　　Then　Vubben　spoke　for　the　first　time　since　the　wasps　attacked　the　intruder。
　　〃Probably　exactly　what　it　wants　to　see；〃　he　suggested　confidently。
　　Do　you　recall；　my　rings；　how　we　all　nodded；　sighed；　or　umbled　respectful　agreement？　Vubben　spoke　the　words　so　well；　in　such　tones　of　wise　credibility。　Only　later　did　it　occur　to　we/us　to　ask　ourselves…
　　What？
　　What　in　the　world　could　he　possibly　mean　by　that？
　　
　　Lark
　　DURING　TWO　THOUSAND　YEARS　OF　ILLICIT　SETTLEMENT；　Lark　was　hardly　the　first　member　of　the　Six　to　fly。　He　wasn't　even　the　first　human。
　　Soon　after　the　sneakship　Tabernacle　sank　forever　into　the　Midden's　sucking　embrace；　men　and　women　used　to　soar　like　kites；　riding　steady　offshore　winds　from　the　blue　ocean　all　the　way　to　the　white　peaks　of　the　Rimmer　Range。　Back　in　those　days；　lacy　airfoils　used　to　catch　sky…currents；　lofting　brave　pilots　to　survey　their　new　world　from　above。
　　The　last　silky　glider　now　lay　under　glass　in　a　Biblos　museum；　a　wonder　to　behold；　made　of　the　mystical　materials　monomolecular　carbon　and　woven　stress　polymer；　which　the　brightest　wizards　of　the　Chemists'　Guild　could　not　reproduce　today；　even　if　the　sages　allowed　it。　Time　and　mishaps　eventually　smashed　all　the　others；　leaving　later　human　generations　to　walk　the　heavy　ground　like　everybody　else；　and　erasing　one　more　cause　of　jealousy　among　the　Six…though　lately；　since　the　Great　Peace；　groups　of　ambitious　youths　had　resumed　a　crude　version　of　the　pastime；　occasionally　risking　their　lives　on　spindly　frames　of　hollow　boo；　covered　with　hand…woven　sheets　of　wic…cotton。　Or　else　urrish　middlings　rode　bulging　balloons；　wafting　upward　on　puffs　of　torrid　air。　Sometimes　success　caused　a　local　sensation；　but　none　of　the　efforts　had　much　lasting　effect。　Available　materials　were　too　heavy；　weak；　or　porous。　The　wind　was　much　too　strong。
　　Some；　with　ardent　piety；　claimed　this　was　a　good　thing。　The　sky　was　not　where　redemption　would　be　found。　Nor　in　clinging　to　vanities　of　the　past。　Lark　normally　agreed　with　the　orthodox　view；　but　in　this　case；　he　mused…
　　Such　a　modest　dream。　To　waft　a　few　leagues　through　the　lower　air。　Is　that　so　much　to　ask；　when　once　we　had　the　stars？
　　He　was　never　one　to　waste　time　on　idle　fancies；　though。　Certainly　Lark　never　expected　personally　to　spy　down　on　Jijo's　mountains　from　a　great　height。
　　But　look　at　me　now！
　　Ling　had　clearly　enjoyed　watching　his　expression；　when　she　told　him　of　today's　plan。
　　〃We'll　be　gone　most　of　the　day；　to　pick　up　some　specimens　our　robots　have　snared。　Later；　as　the　drones　roam　farther　afield；　we'll　go　for　trips　of　several　days　at　a　time。〃
　　Lark　had　stared　at　the　alien　flying　machine；　a　slender　arrow　with　stubby　wings　that　unfolded　after　it　exited　a　narrow　tunnel　from　the　buried　research　station。　The　hatch　gaped　like　a　pair　of　hungry　jaws。
　　How　like　Ling　to　spring　this　on　him　without　warning！
　　While　Besh　loaded　supplies；　the　big　blond　man；　Kunn；　shouted；　〃e　on；　Ling！　We're　running　late。　Coax　your　pet　aboard　or　get　another。〃
　　Lark　set　his　jaw；　determined　to　show　no　emotion　as　he　followed　her　up　a　ramp。　He　expected　a　cave…like　interior；　but　it　turned　out　to　be　more　brightly　lit　than　any　enclosed　space　he'd　ever　seen。　There　was　no　need　to　let　his　eyes　adapt。
　　Not　wanting　to　gawk　like　a　yokel；　he　aimed　for　a　padded　seat　next　to　a　window　and　dropped　his　pack　nearby。　Lark　sat　down　gingerly；　finding　the　voluptuous　softness　neither　fortable　nor　forting。　It　felt　as　if　he　had　settled　onto　the　lap　of　something　fleshy　and　perhaps　queerly　amorous。　Moments　later；　Ling　added　to　his　unease　by　strapping　a　belt　across　his　waist。　The　hissing　closure　of　the　metal　hatch　made　his　ears　feel　funny；　increasing　his　disorientation。　The　moment　the　engines　came　on；　Lark　felt　a　strange　tickling　at　the　base　of　his　neck；　as　if　a　small　animal　were　breathing　on　the　hairs　back　there。　He　could　not　help　lifting　a　hand　to　brush　away　at　the　imaginary　creature。
　　Takeoff　was　surprisingly　gentle；　a　wafting　motion；　rising　and　turning；　then　the　sky…boat　swept　away　so　quickly　that　he　had　no　chance　to　survey　the　Glade　and　its　surroundings；　or　to　seek　the　hidden　valley　of　the　Egg。　By　the　time　he　turned　around　to　press　close　against　the　window；　the　continent　was　already　sweeping　underneath　as　they　hurtled　southward；　many　times　faster　than　a　catapulted　stone。　Only　minutes　later；　they　dropped　away　from　the　alpine　hills；　streaking　over　a　wide…open　plain　of　steppe　grass；　which　bowed　and　rippled　like　the　ever…changing　surface　of　a　phosphorescent　sea。　At　one　point；　Lark　spotted　a　drove　of　galloping　stem…chompers；　a　genus　of　native　Jijoan　ungulates；　which　trumpeted　distress　and　reared　away　from　the　airboat's　passing　shadow。　A　band　of　urrish　herders　stretched　their　sinuous　necks　in　expressions　of　curiosity　mixed　with　dread。　Near　the　adults；　a　group　of　early　middlings　gamboled　and　snapped　in　mock　battle；　ignoring　their　elders'　sudden；　dark　focus　on　the　heavens。
　　〃Your　enemies　certainly　are　graceful　creatures；〃　Ling　mented。
　　Lark　turned　and　stared　at　her。　What's　she　going　on　about　now？
　　Ling　must　have　misinterpreted　his　look；　hurrying　as　if　to　placate。　〃Of　course　I　mean　that　in　a　strictly　limited　sense；　the　way　a　horse　or　other　animal　can　be　graceful。〃
　　Lark　pondered　before　answering。　〃Hrm。　It's　too　bad　your　visit　disrupted　Gathering。　We'd　normally　be　having　the　Games　about　now。　That's　when　you'd　see　real　grace　in　action。〃
　　〃'Games？'　Oh；　yes。　Your　version　of　the　fabled　Olympics。　Lots　of　running　and　jumping　around；　I　suppose？〃
　　He　nodded　guardedly。　〃There　are　speed　and　agility　events。　Others　let　our　best　and　bravest　test　their　endurance；　courage；　adaptability。〃
　　〃All　traits　highly　prized　by　those　who　brought　humanity　into　being；〃　Ling　said。　Her　smile　was　indulgent；　faintly　condescending。　〃I　don't　imagine　any　of　the　six　species　go　up　against　each　other　directly　in　any　events；　do　they？　I　mean；　it's　hard　to　picture　a　g'Kek　outrunning　an　urs；　or　a　qheuen　doing　a　pole　vault！〃　She　laughed。
　　Lark　shrugged。　Despite　Ling's　hint　regarding　a　subject　of　great　moment…the　question　of　human　origins…he　found　himself　losing　interest　in　the　conversation。
　　〃Yes；　I　suppose　it　could　be。　Hard。　To　picture。〃
　　He　turned　to　look　back　out　the　window；　watching　the　great　plain　sweep　by…wave　after　wave　of　bending　grass；　punctuated　by　stands　of　dark　boo　or　oases　of　gently　swaying　trees。　A　distance　requiring　several　days　to　cross　by　caravan　was　dismissed　in　a　few　brief　duras　of　blithe　flight。　Then　the　smoldering　mountains　of　the　southern　range　swarmed　into　view。
　　Besh；　the　forayer　pilot；　banked　the　craft　to　get　a　closer　look　at　Blaze　Mountain；　circling　at　an　angle　so　that　Lark's　window　stared　vertiginously　on　a　vast　lava　apron　where　past　eruption　layers　spilled　across　a　country　that　was　both　ravaged　and　starkly　renewed。　For　an　instant；　he　glimpsed　the　smelters　that　lay　clustered　halfway　up　the　mighty　eminence。　Fashioned　to　resemble　native　magma　tubes　and　floes；　the　forge　vented　steam　and　smoke　no　different　from　that　exhaled　by　nearby　wild　apertures。　Of　course；　the　camouflage　was　never　meant　to　endure　scrutiny　as　close　as　this。
　　Lark　saw　Besh　share　a　knowing　glance　with　Kunn；　who　tapped　one　of　his　magical　viewing　screens。　Out　of　several　score　glowing　red　lights；　outlining　the　mountain's　shape；　one　was　marked　by　sharp　symbols　and　glowing　arrows。　Dotted　lines　traced　underground　passages　and　workrooms　where　famed　urrish　smiths　labored　to　make　tools　out　of　those　special　alloys　sanctioned　by　the　sages；　second　in　quality　only　to　those　produced　farther　south；　near　the　peak　of　towering　Mount　Guenn。
　　Incredible；　Lark　thought；　trying　to　memorize　the　level　of　detail　shown　on　Kunn's　screen；　for　his　report　to　Lester　Cambel。　Clearly　that　monitor　had　little　to　do　with　the　ostensible　purpose　of　this　mission…scouting　for　advanced　〃candidate〃　life…forms。　From　a　few　brief　exchanges；　Lark　reckoned　Kunn　was　no　biologist。　Something　in　the　man's　stance；　his　way　of　moving；　reminded　one　of　Dwer　stalking　through　a　forest；　only　more　deadly。　Even　after　generations　of　relative　tranquillity；　a　few　men　and　women　on　the　Slope　still　carried　themselves　like　that；　experts　whose　chief　job　was　to　circulate　each　summer　from　village　to　village；　training　local　human　militias。
　　Just　in　case。
　　Each　of　the　other　five　races　had　similar　specialists。　A　prudent　policy；　since　even　now　there　were　regular　minor　crises…a　criminal　act　here；　a　wayward　tribe　of　sooners　there；　and　spates　of　hot…tempered　friction　between　settlements。　Enough　to　make　〃peacetime　warrior〃　no　contradiction　in　terms。
　　The　same　might　also　be　true　of　Kunn。　Looking　lethally　petent　didn't　mean　he　was　coiled；　preparing　to　wreak　murder。
　　What's　your　purpose；　Kunn？　Lark　wondered；　watching　symbols　flash　across　the　screen；　crisscrossing　reflections　of　the　outlander's　face。　What；　exactly；　are　you　looking　for？
　　Blaze　Mountain　fell　behind　them　as　the　little　vessel　now　seemed　to　leap　ahead　at　a　new　angle；　spearing　across　a　brilliant　whiteness　known　as　the　Plain　of　Sharp　Sand。　For　a　long　time；　low　dunes　swept　past；　undulating　in　windswept　perfection。　Lark　saw　no　caravans　laboring　across　the　sparkling　desert；　carrying　mail　or　trade　goods　to　isolated　settlements　of　The　Vale。　But　then；　no　one　sane　ranged　those　searing　wastes　by　day。　There　were　hidden　shelters　down　there；　where　travelers　awaited　nightfall；　which　even　Kunn's　rays　shouldn't　be　able　to　pick　out　amid　the　glaring　immensity。
　　That　pale　dazzle　was　nothing　pared　to　the　next　sudden　transition；　crossing　over　from　the　sand　ocean　to　the　Spectral　Flow；　a　blurry　expanse　of　shifting　colors　that　made　Lark's　eyes　sting。　Ling　and　Besh　tried　to　peer　at　it　past　their　sheltering　hands；　before　finally　giving　up；　while　Kunn　muttered　sourly　at　the　static　on　his　display。　Lark　struggled　against　a　natural　reflex　to　squint；　endeavoring　instead　to　loosen　his　habitual　way　of　focusing。　Dwer　had　once　explained　that　it　was　the　only　way　to　let　oneself　see　in　this　realm　where　exotic　crystals　cast　an　ever…changing　wildness　of　luminance。
　　That　had　been　shortly　after　Dwer　won　master　hunter　status；　when　he　hurried　home　to　join　Lark　and　Sara　at　their　mother's　bedside；　during　the　illness　that　finally　took　her　away；　turning　Nelo　almost　overnight　into　an　old　man。　Melina　accepted　no　food　during　that　final　week；　and　very　little　drink。　Of　her　two　eldest；　whose　minds　she　had　doted　on；　day　in；　day　out；　ever　since　arriving　in　Dolo　to　be　a　papermaker's　wife；　she　now　seemed　to　need　nothing。　But　from　her　youngest　child；　she　devoured　tales　of　his　wanderings；　the　sights；　sounds；　and　sensations　of　far　corners　of　the　Slope　where　few　ever　trod。　Lark　recalled　feeling　a　jealous　pang　when　he　saw　the　contentment　Dwer's　stories　gave　in　her　last　hours；　then　chiding　himself　for　having　such　unworthy　thoughts。
　　That　me