uplift4.brightnessreef-第54章

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　　Patiently；　he　waits　for　the　two　women…Sara　and　Arianafoo…to　finish　their　meetings　and　return　for　him。　Passing　the　time；　he　sketches　on　a　pad　of　rich；　almost　luminous　paper；　first　refining　some　of　his　drawings　of　the　machinery　aboard　the　steamship；　then　trying　to　capture　the　eerie　perspectives　of　the　stone　cavern　where　all　these　odd　wooden　buildings　lay　sheltered　from　the　sky…under　a　cave　whose　roof　is　propped　up　by　incredible；　massive　stone　pillars。
　　A　few　names　are　ing　easier　now；　so　he　knows　that　it　is　Prity　who　brings　him　a　cup　of　water；　then　checks　his　dressing　to　make　sure　it's　still　tight。　Her　hands　seem　to　flutter　and　dance　before　her；　then　his　do　likewise。　He　watches；　fascinated；　as　his　own　fingers　make　movements　independent　of　his　will　or　mand。　It　might　be　frightening　to　behold。。。　except　that　Prity　suddenly　grins　broadly　and　slaps　her　knee；　chuffing　hoarse；　appreciative　chimpanzee　laughter。
　　He　feels　a　wash　of　pleasure　to　know　his　joke　had　pleased　her。　Though　it　puzzles　and　slightly　miffs　him　that　his　hands　never　saw　fit　to　share　the　humor　with　him。
　　Well；　well。　The　hands　seem　to　know　what　they　are　doing；　and　he　draws　some　satisfaction　from　their　work。　Now　they　pick　up　the　pencil　once　again；　and　he　lets　time　slip　away；　concentrating　on　the　moving　pencil；　and　on　the　stretch　and　tilt　of　line　and　shadow。　When　Sara　returns　for　him；　he　will　be　ready　for　whatever　es　next。
　　Perhaps　it　might　even　be　possible　to　find　a　way　to　save　her　and　her　people。
　　Maybe　that　was　what　his　hands　had　said　to　Prity；　just　a　little　while　ago。
　　If　so；　no　wonder　the　little　chimp　broke　out　in　wry；　doubtful　laughter。
　　
　　XVII。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SEA
　　Should　you　succeed　in　following
　　the　Path　of　Redemption…
　　to　be　re…adopted；　uplifted　anew；
　　given　a　second　chance…
　　that　will　not　mean　an　end
　　to　all　your　strivings。
　　First　you　must　prove　yourselves
　　as　noble　clients；　obedient　and　true
　　to　the　new　patrons　who　redeemed　you。
　　Later　you　will　rise　in　status；
　　and　uplift　clients　of　your　own；
　　generously　passing　on　the
　　blessings　that　you　earned。
　　But　then；　in　time；　there　oft
　　begins　to　glimmer　a　light
　　on　the　horizon　of　a　species'　life；
　　hinting　at　other　realms；
　　beckoning　the　tired；　the　worthy。
　　This　is　said　to　be　a　sign　post。
　　Some　will　call　it　The　Lure；
　　or　else　The　Enticement。
　　Aeon　after　aeon；　old　ones　depart；
　　seeking　paths　that　younger
　　races　can't　perceive。
　　They　vanish　from　our　midst；
　　those　who　find　these　paths。
　　Some　call　it　transcendence。
　　Others　call　it　death。
　　…The　Scroll　of　Destiny
　　　
　　Alvin's　Tale
　　ONE　THING　ALWAYS　STRUCK　ME　ABOUT　THE　WAY　tales　are　told　in　Anglic…or　any　of　the　other　Earthling　tongues　I've　learned…and　that's　the　problem　of　keeping　up　suspense。
　　Oh；　some　human　authors　of　Twencen　and　Twenty…One　had　it　down　cold。　There've　been　times　that　I　stayed　up　three　nights　straight；　taken　with　some　yarn　by　Conrad　or　Cunin。　What's　puzzled　me；　ever　since　I　got　the　notion　of　being　a　writer　myself；　is　how　those　old…timers　managed　it。
　　Take　this　account　I've　been　scribbling　lately；　whenever　I　get　a　chance　to　lie　down　on　this　hard　deck　with　my　notebook；　already　gone　all　ragged　at　the　corners　from　the　places　I've　taken　it；　scrawling　clumsy　hoon…sized　letters　with　a　chewed…up　pencil　clutched　in　my　fist。　From　the　very　start　I've　been　telling　my　story　in　〃first　person〃…like　in　a　diary；　only　with　all　sorts　of　fancy…gloss　tricks　thrown　in　that　I've　picked　up　from　my　reading　over　the　years。
　　Why　first　person？　Well；　according　to　Good　Fiction　by　Anderson；　that　〃voice〃　makes　it　a　whole　lot　easier　to　present　the　reader　with　a　single；　solid…feeling　point…of…view；　even　though　it　means　my　book　will　have　to　be　translated　if　a　traeki's　ever　to　understand　it。
　　But　the　trouble　with　a　first　person　chronicle　is　this…whether　it's　real…life　history　or　a　piece　of　make…believe；　you　know　the　hero　survived！
　　So　during　all　of　the　events　I'm　about　to　relate；　you　who　are　reading　this　memoir　（hopefully　after　I've　had　a　chance　to　rewrite　it；　have　a　human　expert　fix　my　grammar；　and　pay　to　have　it　set　in　type）　you　already　know　that　I；　Alvin　Hph…wayuo；　son　of　Mu…phauwq　and　Yowg…wayuo　of　Wuphon　Port；　and　intrepid　explorer　extraordinaire；　simply　have　to　escape　alive　the　jam　I'm　about　to　describe；　with　at　least　one　brain；　one　eye；　and　a　hand　to　write　it　all　down。
　　I've　lain　awake　some　nights；　trying　to　see　a　way　around　this　problem　using　some　other　language。　There's　the　GalSeven　tentative　case；　for　instance；　but　that　doesn't　work　in　past…explicit　tense。　And　the　quantum…uncertain　declension；　in　Buyur…dialect　GalThree；　is　just　too　weird。　Anyway；　who　would　I　be　writing　for？　Huck's　the　only　other　GalThree　reader　I　know；　and　getting　praise　from　her　is　kind　of　like　kissing　your　sister。
　　Anyway；　the　waters　of　the　Rift　were　all　a…froth　at　the　point　where　I　last　left　our　tale。　The　hatchet　shadow　of　Terminus　Rock　cut　across　a　patch　of　ocean　where　both　hawser　and　hose　still　whirled；　chopping　the　normally　placid　surface；　spinning　with　tension　energy　released　just　moments　before；　by　a　disaster。
　　It　was　all　too　easy　to　picture　what　had　happened　to　Wuphon's　Dream；　our　little　vessel　for　exploring　the　great　unknown　below。　In　reluctant　imagining　I　saw　the　hollow　wooden　tube…its　wheels　spinning　uselessly；　the　bulbous　glass　nose　broken…tumbling　into　black　emptiness　trailing　its　broken　leash；　carrying　Ziz；　the　little　traeki　partial　stack；　to　perdition　along　with　it。
　　As　if　that　weren't　enough；　we　all　had　fresh　in　memory　the　sight　of　little　Huphu；　our　noor…beast　mascot；　thrown　by　the　recoiling　crane；　screeching　and　gyrating　till　her　tiny　black　figure　vanished　into　the　blue　waters　of　the　Rift。　As　Huck's　Earthling　nicknamesake　might've　said…〃It　warn't　a　happy　sight。　Nor　a　lucky　wun。〃
　　For　a　long　time；　everybody　just　stared。　I　mean；　what　could　we　do？　Even　the　protestors　from　Wuphon　Port　and　The　Vale　were　silent。　If　any　felt　smug　over　our　euppance　as　heretics；　they　felt　wiser　to　withhold　jubilation。
　　We　all　backed　away　from　the　ledge。　What　point　in　peering　at　a　velvety…smooth　grave？
　　〃Retract　the　hawser　and　hose；〃　Urdonnol　manded。　Soon　the　drums　began　rotating　the　other　way；　rewinding　what　had　unreeled　so　hopefully　just　duras　before。　The　same　hoonish　voice　called　out　depths；　only　this　time　the　numbers　grew　steadily　smaller；　and　there　was　no　great；　booming　enthusiasm　in　the　throaty　baritone。　Finally；　at　two　and　a　half　cables；　the　hawser's　frayed　end　popped　out　of　the　sea；　dripping　water　like　white　lymph　fluid　from　a　traeki's　wounded；　dangling　tentacle。　Those　cranking　the　drum　sped　up；　eager　to　see　what　had　happened。
　　〃Acid　vurn！〃　Ur…ronn　declared　in　shock；　when　the　severed　end　was　swung　onto　the　bluff。　She　lisped　in　anger。　〃Savotage！〃
　　Urdonnol　seemed　reluctant　to　leap　to　conclusions；　but　the　older　urs　technician　kept　swinging　her　narrow　head　back　and　forth；　low　and　snakelike；　from　the　burned　cable　to　the　crowd　of　protestors　standing　on　the　bluff；　gaping　at　our　tragedy。　The　urrish　apprentice's　dark　suspicion　was　clear。
　　〃Get　away　from　here！〃　Huck　shouted　angrily；　rolling　toward　the　dissenters；　spinning　up　gravel　with　her　rims。　She　swerved；　just　missing　the　toes　of　several　humans　and　hoon；　who　backed　off　nervously。　Even　a　couple　of　reds　withdrew　their　clawed；　armored　legs；　scuttling　away　a　pace　or　two；　before　recalling　that　a　flail…eyed　g'Kek　isn't　much　physical　threat　to　a　qheuen。　Then　they　moved　forward　again；　hissing　and　clicking。
　　Pincer　and　I　rushed　to　Huck's　side。　It　might've　gotten　ugly；　but　then　a　bunch　of　big　grays　and　burly　urrish　smiths　from　Mount　Guenn　Forge　hurried　up　behind　us；　some　carrying　cudgels；　ready　to　back　up　Huck's　demand　with　angry　force。　The　rabble　took　note　and　quit　our　worksite；　moving　toward　their　makeshift　camp。
　　〃Bastards！〃　Huck　cursed　after　them。　〃Horrid；　jeekee　murderers！〃
　　Not　by　law；　I　thought；　still　numb　from　shock。　Neither　Huphu　nor　little　Ziz　had　strictly　been　citizens　of　the　mons。　Nor　even　honorary　ones；　like　glavers；　or　members　of　any　threatened　species。　So　it　wasn't　murder；　exactly。
　　But　close　enough；　by　my　reckoning。　My　hands　clenched；　and　I　sensed　something　give　as　my　back　flexed　with　fight…hormones。　Anger　is　slow　to　ignite　in　a　hoon　and　hard　to　snuff　once　lit。　It's　kind　of　disturbing　to　look　back　on　how　I　felt　then；　even　though　the　sages　say　what　you　feel　isn't　evil；　only　what　you　do　about　it。
　　No　one　said　a　word。　We　must've　moped　for　a　while。　Urdonnol　and　Ur…ronn　argued　over　what　kind　of　a　message　to　send　to　Uriel。
　　Then　a　stuttering　whistle　pierced　our　pit　of　mourning；　ing　from　behind　us；　toward　the　sea。　We　turned　to　see　Pincer…Tip；　teetering　bravely　at　the　edge；　blowing　dust　as　he　piped　shrilly　from　three　leg…vents　while　motioning　with　two　claws　for　us　to　e　back。
　　〃Look…ook…ook！〃　came　his　aspirated　stammer。　〃Huck；　Alvin…hurry！〃
　　Huck　claimed　later　she　realized　right　off　what　Pincer　must've　seen。　I　guess　in　retrospect　it　is　kind　of　obvious；　but　at　the　time　I　had　no　idea　what　could　have　him　so　excited。　On　reaching　the　edge；　I　could　only　peer　down　in　amazement　at　what　had　popped　out　of　the　belly　of　the　Rift。
　　It　was　our　bathy！　Our　beautiful　Wuphon's　Dream　floated　upright；　almost　peaceful　in　the　bright　sunshine。　And　on　its　curved　top　sat　a　small　black　figure；　wet　and　bedraggled　from　nose　to　tail。　It　didn't　take　a　g'Kek's　vision　to　tell　that　our　little　noor　was　as　amazed　to　be　alive　as　we　were　to　see　her。　Faint　whispers　of　her　yelping　plaint　floated　up　to　us。
　　〃But　how…〃　Urdonnol　began。
　　〃Of　course！〃　Ur…ronn　interrupted。　〃The　vallast　cane　loose！〃
　　I　blinked　a　couple　of　times。
　　〃Oh；　the　ballast！　Hr…rm。　Yes；　the　Dream'd　be　buoyant　without　it。　But　there　was　no　crew　to　pull　the　release；　unless…〃
　　〃Unless　Ziz　did　it！〃　Huck　finished　for　me。
　　〃Insufficient　explanation；〃　Urdonnol　interjected　in　GalTwo。　〃With　eight　cables　of　（heavy；　down…seeking）　metal　hawser　weighing　the　diving　device；　the　（minuscule）　air　pocket　within　our　vessel　ought　to　have　been　（decisively）　overwhelmed。〃
　　〃Hrm…rm；　I　think　I　see　what　made　the　difference；〃　I　suggested；　shading　my　eyes　with　both　hands。　〃Huck；　what　is　that。。。　thing　surrounding　the　bathy？〃
　　Again；　our　wheeled　friend　teetered　at　the　edge；　spreading　two　eyestalks　far　apart　and　sticking　out　a　third　for　good　measure。　〃It　looks　like　a　balloon　of　some　sort；　Alvin。　A　tube；　wrapped　around　the　Dream　like　a　life　preserver。　A　circular…Ziz！〃
　　That　matched　my　own　guess。　A　traeki　torus；　inflated　beyond　anything　we　might　have　thought　possible。
　　Everybody　turned　to　stare　at　Tyug；　the　Mount　Guenn　Master　of　Mixes。　The　full…sized　traeki　shuddered；　letting　out　a　colored　cloud　that　smelled　like　released　tension。
　　〃A　precaution。　One　that　i/we　contemplated　in　consultation　with　our　lord；　Uriel。　A　safeguard　of　unknown；　untried　efficacy。
　　〃Glad　we/i　are　to　have　vlenned　a　success。　These　rings；　and　those　below；　anticipate　relishing　recent　events。　Soon。　In　retrospect。〃
　　〃In　other　words…ords；〃　Pincer　interpreted；　〃stop　staring　like　a　bunch　of　day…blind　glavers。　Let's　go　fetch　'em　back…ack…ack！〃
　　
　　XVIII。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SLOPE
　　Legends
　　It　is　said　that　earlier　generations　inter