uplift4.brightnessreef-第49章

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ses　the　driving　force　was　a　near　monopoly　on　knowledge。
　　That　was　the　obvious　irony。　But　Sara　knew　another…her　unusual　theory　about　language　and　the　Six…so　heretical；　it　made　Lark's　views　seem　downright　orthodox。
　　Maybe　it　is　past　time　I　came　back　to　Biblos；　to　report　on　my　work。。。　and　to　confront　everything　I'm　afraid　of…
　　The　Stranger　seemed　happy；　engrossed　with　his　fellow　engineers　and　closely　observed　by　Ariana　Foo　from　her　wheelchair。　So　Sara　left　the　noisy　engine　area；　moving　toward　the　ship's　bow；　where　a　thick　mist　was　cleaved　by　the　Gopher's　headlong　rush。　Tattered　breaks　in　the　fog　showed　dawn　brightening　the　Rimmer　peaks；　south　and　east；　where　the　fate　of　the　Six　would　be　decided。
　　Won't　Lark　and　Dwer　be　surprised　to　see　me！
　　Oh；　they'll　probably　yell　that　I　should　have　stayed　safe　at　home。　I'll　answer　that　I　have　a　job　to　do；　just　as　important　as　theirs；　and　they　shouldn't　be　such　gender…menders。　And　we'll　all　try　hard　not　to　show　how　happy　we　are　to　see　each　other。
　　But　first；　Sage　Foo　wanted　this　side　trip　to　check　her　notion　about　the　Stranger；　despite　Sara's　instinct　to　protect　the　wounded　man　from　further　meddling。
　　Those　instincts　have　caused　me　enough　trouble。　Is　it　not　time　to　temper　them　with　reason？
　　One　ancient　text　called　it　〃nurturing　mania；〃　and　it　might　have　seemed　cute　when　she　was　a　child；　nursing　hurt　creatures　of　the　forest。　Perhaps　it　would　have　posed　no　problem；　if　she　followed　the　normal　life　path　of　Jijoan　women；　with　children　and　a　fatigued　farmer…husband　tugging　at　her；　demanding　attention。　What　need；　then；　to　sublimate　maternal　instincts？　What　time　for　other　interests；　without　all　the　labor…saving　tools　tantalizingly　described　in　Terran　lore？　Plain　as　she　was；　Sara　felt　certain　she　would　have　been　successful　at　such　a　modest　life　and　made　some　simple；　honest　man　happy。
　　If　a　simple　life　was　what　I　wanted。
　　Sara　tried　to　shrug　the　wave　of　introspection。　The　cause　of　her　funk　was　obvious。
　　Biblos。　Center　of　human　hopes　and　fears；　focus　of　power；　pride；　and　shame；　the　place　where　she　once　found　love…or　its　illusion…and　lost　it。　Where　the　prospect　of　a　〃second　chance〃　drove　her　off　in　panicked　flight。　Nowhere　else　had　she　felt　such　swings　of　elation　and　claustrophobia；　hope　and　fear。
　　Will　it　still　be　standing　when　we　round　the　final　bend？
　　If　the　roof…of…stone　had　already　fallen…
　　Her　mind　shied　away　from　the　unendurable。　Instead；　she　drew　from　her　shoulder　bag　the　draft　manuscript　of　her　second　paper　on　Jijoan　language。　It　was　past　time　to　consider　what　to　say　to　Sage　Bonner　and　the　others；　if　they　confronted　her。
　　What　have　I　been　doing？　Demonstrating　on　paper　that　chaos　can　be　a　form　of　progress。　That　noise　can　be　informing。
　　I　might　as　well　tell　them　I　can　prove　that　black　is　white；　and　up　is　down！
　　Evidence　suggests　that　long　ago；　when　terran　tribes　were　nomadic　or　pre…agricultural；　most　language　groups　were　more　rigidly　structured　than　later　on。　For　example；　Earth　scholars　tried　rebuilding　proto…Indo…European；　working　backward　from　Latin；　Sanskrit；　Greek；　and　German；　deriving　a　mother　tongue　strictly　organized　with　many　cases　and　declensions。　A　rule…based　structure　that　would　do　any　Galactic　grammar　proud。
　　In　the　margin；　Sara　noted　a　recent　find　from　her　readings；　that　one　native　North　American　tongue；　Cherokee；　contained　up　to　seventy　pronouns…ways　to　say　〃I〃　and　〃you〃　and　〃we〃…depending　on　context　and　personal　relationship…a　trait　shared　with　GalSix。
　　To　some；　this　implies　humans　must　have　once　had　patrons；　who　uplifted　Earthling　man…apes。　Teachers　who　altered　our　bodies　and　brains　and　also　taught　a　stern　logic；　through　languages　tailored　to　our　needs。
　　Then　we　lost　our　guides。　Through　our　own　fault？　Abandonment？　No　one　knows。
　　After　that；　the　theory　goes；　all　Earthly　languages　devolved；　spiraling　back　toward　the　apelike　grunts　protohumans　used　before　uplift。　At　the　time　our　ancestors　left　Earth　for　Jijo；　Galactic　advisers　were　counseling　that　Anglic　and　other　〃wolfling〃　tongues　be　dropped　in　favor　of　codes　designed　for　thinking　beings。
　　Their　argument　can　be　illustrated　by　playing　the　game　of　Telephone。
　　Take　a　dozen　players；　seated　in　a　circle。　Whisper　a　plex　sentence　to　one；　who　then　whispers　the　same　message　to　the　next；　and　so　on。　Question：　how　soon　is　the　original　meaning　lost　amid　confusion　and　slips　of　the　tongue？　Answer：　in　Anglic；　noise　can　set　in　from　the　very　start。　After　just　a　few　relays；　a　sentence　can　bee　hilariously　twisted。
　　The　experiment　yields　different　results　in　Rossic　and　Nihanic；　human　grammars　that　still　require　verb；　noun；　and　adjective　endings　specific　to　gender；　ownership；　and　other　factors。　If　a　mistake　creeps　into　a　Rossic　Telephone　message；　the　altered　word　often　stands　out；　glaringly。　Acute　listeners　can　often　correct　it　automatically。
　　In　pure　Galactic　languages；　one　might　play　Telephone　all　day　without　a　single　error。　No　wonder　the　game　was　unknown　in　the　Five　Galaxies；　until　humans　arrived。
　　Sara　had　quickly　recognized　a　version　of　Shannon　coding；　named　after　an　Earthling　pioneer　of　information　theory　who　showed　how　specially　coded　messages　can　be　restored；　even　from　a　jumble　of　static。　It　proved　crucial　to　digital　speech　and　data　transmission；　in　pre…Contact　human　society。
　　Indo…European　was　logical；　error…resistant；　like　Galactic　tongues　that　suit　puters　far　better　than　chaotic　Anglic。
　　To　many；　this　implied　Earthlings　must　have　had　patrons　in　the　misty　past。　But　watching　the　Stranger　mune　happily　with　other　engineers；　in　a　makeshift　language　of　grunts　and　hand　gestures；　reminded　Sara
　　It　wasn't　Indo…European　speakers　who　invented　puters。　Nor　users　of　any　prim　Galactic　language。　The　star…gods　received　their　mighty　powers　by　inheritance。
　　In　all　the　recent　history　of　the　Five　Galaxies；　just　one　folk　independently　invented　puters…and　nearly　everything　else　needed　for　starfaring　life…from　scratch。
　　Those　people　spoke　Rossic；　Nihanic；　French；　and　especially　the　forerunner　of　Anglic；　wild；　undisciplined　English。
　　Did　they　do　it　despite　their　chaotic　language？
　　Or　because　of　it？
　　The　masters　of　her　guild　thought　she　chased　phantoms…that　she　was　using　this　diversion　to　evade　other　obligations。
　　But　Sara　had　a　hunch。　Past　and　present　held　clues　to　the　destiny　awaiting　the　Six。
　　That　is；　if　destiny　had　not　already　been　decided。
　　Dawn　spilled　quickly　downslope　from　the　Rimmers。　It　was　in　clear　violation　of　emergency　orders　for　the　gopher　to　continue；　but　nobody　dared　say　it　to　the　captain；　who　had　a　crazed　look　in　his　eye。
　　Probably　es　from　spending　so　much　time　around　humans；　Sara　thought。　The　steamers　had　as　many　men　and　women　on　the　crew…to　tend　the　machines…as　hoon　sailors。　Grawph…phu；　the　pilot　and　master；　knew　the　river　with　sure　instincts　that　arose　out　of　his　heritage。　He　also　had　picked　up　more　than　a　few　Earthling　mannerisms；　like　wearing　a　knit　cap　over　his　furry　pate　and　puffing　a　pipe　that　fumed　like　the　steamer's　chimney。　Peering　through　the　dawn　haze；　the　captain's　craggy　features　might　have　e　from　the　flyleaf　of　some　seafaring　adventure　tale；　chosen　off　the　shelves　in　the　Biblos　Library…like　some　piratical　old…timer；　exuding　an　air　of　confidence　and　close　acquaintance　with　clanger。
　　Grawph…phu　turned　his　head；　noticed　Sara　looking　at　him；　and　closed　one　eye　in　a　sly　wink。
　　Oh；　spare　me；　she　sighed；　half　expecting　the　hoon　to　spit　over　the　side　and　say…〃Arr；　matie。　'Tis　a　fine　day　for　sailin'。　Full　speed　ahead！〃
　　Instead；　the　gopher's　master　pulled　the　pipe　from　his　mouth　and　pointed。
　　〃Biblos；〃　he　mented；　a　low；　hoonish　growl　accented　by　a　salty　twang。　〃Just　beyond　the　curve　after　next。　Hr…rm。。。。　A　day　sooner　'n　you　expected　to　arrive。〃
　　Sara　looked　ahead　once　more。　I　should　be　glad；　she　thought。　Time　is　short。
　　At　first　she　could　make　out　little　but　Eternal　Swamp　on　the　left　bank；　stretching　impassably　all　the　way　to　the　Roney；　an　immensity　of　quicksand　that　forced　the　long　detour　past　Tarek　Town。　On　the　right　began　the　vast　Warril　Plain；　where　several　passengers　had　debarked　earlier　to　arrange　overland　passage。　Taking　a　fast　caravan　were　Bloor；　the　portraitist；　and　a　petite　exploser　carrying　dispatches　for　her　guild。　Both　were　slight　enough　to　ride　donkeys　all　the　way　and　with　luck　might　reach　the　Glade　in　three　days。　Prity　and　Pzora　also　went　ashore　at　Kandu　Landing　to　hire　carts　in　case　the　Stranger　must　be　taken　before　the　High　Sages…to　be　decided　during　this　trip　to　Biblos。
　　As　the　fog　cleared；　there　now　reared　to　the　right　a　wall　of　stone；　rising　from　the　water　line；　getting　taller　with　each　passing　dura。　The　cliff　shimmered；　almost　glassy　smooth；　as　though　impervious　to　erosion　or　time。　Arguments　raged　as　to　whether　it　was　natural　or　a　Buyur　relic。
　　Against　these　mirror…like　cliffs；　Ulgor　had　said　the　citizens　of　Dolo　Village　might　see　flames　from　burning　books。　Two　centuries　ago；　settlers　had　witnessed　such　a　sight；　horrible　even　from　afar。　A　disaster　never　equaled　since；　not　by　the　massacre　at　Tolon；　or　when　Uk…rann　ambushed　Drake　the　Elder　at　Bloody　Ford。
　　But　we　saw　no　flames。
　　Still；　tension　reigned　until　the　steamer　turned　a　final　bend。。。。
　　Sara　let　out　a　tense　sigh。　The　Archive。。。　it　stands。
　　She　stared　for　some　time；　awash　in　emotion；　then　hurried　aft　to　fetch　the　Stranger　and　Ariana　Foo。　Both　of　them　would　want　to　see　this。
　　It　was　a　castle；　adamant；　impervious；　carved　with　tools　that　no　longer　existed。　Godlike　tools；　sent　to　the　deep　soon　after　they　cut　this　stronghold。　A　citadel　of　knowledge。
　　The　original　granite　outcrop　still　jutted　like　a　finger　into　the　curving　river；　with　its　back　braced　against　the　shiny…smooth　cliff。　From　above；　it　probably　looked　much　as　it　always　had；　with　woody　thickets　disguising　atrium　openings　that　let　filtered　daylight　into　courtyards　and　reading　groves　below。　But　from　the　dock　where　the　gopher　tied　up；　one　saw　imposing　defensive　battlements；　then　row　after　row　of　massive；　sculpted　pillars　that　held　up　the　natural　plateau；　suspending　its　undermined　weight　as　a　roof　against　the　sky。
　　Inside　this　abnormal　cave；　wooden　buildings　protected　their　precious　contents　against　rain；　wind；　and　snow…all　except　the　inferno　that　once　rocked　the　southern　end；　leaving　rubble　and　ruin。　In　a　single　night；　fully　a　third　of　the　wisdom　left　by　the　Great　Printing　had　gone　up　in　smoke　and　despair。
　　The　sections　that　would　have　been　most　useful　today。　Those　devoted　to　Galactic　society；　its　many　races　and　clans。　What　remained　gave　only　sketchy　outlines　of　the　plex　bio…social…political　relationships　that　fluxed　through　the　Five　Galaxies。
　　Despite　the　crisis；　dawn　summoned　a　stream　of　pilgrims　from　hostelries　in　the　nearby　tree…shrouded　village；　scholars　who　joined　the　gopher　passengers　climbing　a　zigzag　ramp　toward　the　main　gate。　Traeki　and　g'Kek　students　caught　their　breath　at　resting　spots。　Red　qheuens　from　the　distant　sea　paused　now　and　then　to　spray　saltwater　over　their　cupolas。　Ulgor　and　Blade　gave　them　wide　berth。
　　A　donkey…caravan　edged　by　the　line　of　visitors；　heading　downhill。　Wax…sealed　crates　told　of　precious　contents。　They're　still　evacuating；　Sara　realized。　Taking　advantage　of　the　sages'　delaying　tactic