uplift4.brightnessreef-第60章

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　　The　Scrolls　offer　some　guidance　on　these　matters。　But　since　most　date　from　the　first　two　or　three　landings；　they　shed　little　light　on　one　of　the　greatest　mysteries。
　　Why　did　so　many　e　to　this　small　patch　of　ground；　in　such　a　short　span　of　time？
　　Against　the　half　a　million　years　since　the　Buyur　left；　two　thousand　years　is　not　very　much。　Moreover；　there　are　many　fallow　worlds…so　why　Jijo？　There　are　many　sites　on　Jijo…so　why　the　Slope？
　　Each　question　has　answers。　The　great　carbon…spewing　star；　lzmunuti；　began　shielding　local　space　only　a　few　millennia　ago。　We　are　told　this　phenomenon　somehow　disabled　robot　sentinels　patrolling　routes　to　this　system；　easing　the　way　for　sneakships。　There　are　also　vague　references　to　omens　that　a　〃time　of　troubles〃　would　soon　spread　upheavals　across　the　Five　Galaxies。　As　for　the　Slope；　its　bination　of　robust　biosphere　and　high　volcanic　activity　assures　that　our　works　will　be　destroyed；　leaving　few　traces　we　were　ever　here。
　　To　some；　these　answers　suffice。　Others　wonder；　still。
　　Are　we　unique？
　　In　some　Galactic　languages；　the　question　does　not　even　parse　as　sane。　One　can　find　a　precedent　for　anything　in　the　archives　of　a　billion　years。　Originality　is　an　illusion；　everything　that　is　also　was。
　　Perhaps　it　is　symptomatic　of　our　low　state…our　uncivilised　level　of　consciousness；　pared　with　the　godlike　heights　of　our　ancestors…but　one　still　is　tempted　to　wonder。
　　Might　something　unusual　be　going　on　here？
　　…Spensir　Jones；　A　Landing　Day　Homily
　　
　　Asx
　　WE　SAGES　PREACH　THAT　IT　IS　FOOLISH　TO　ASSUME。　Yet；　during　this；　our　greatest　crisis；　the　invaders　often　turn　out　to　know　much　that　we　thought　safely　hidden。
　　Should　this　surprise　us；　my　rings？　Are　they　not　star…gods　from　the　Five　Galaxies？
　　Worse；　have　we　been　united？　Have　not　many　of　the　Six　rashly　exercised　their　right　of　dissent；　currying　favors　from　the　sky…humans　against　our　advice？　Some　of　these　have　simply　vanished…including　the　sooner　girl　who　so　vexed　Lester　with　her　ingratitude；　daring　to　steal　back　the　treasure　she　had　brought；　which　intrigued　our　human　sage　for　days　on　end。　Does　she　even　now　dwell　within　the　buried　station；　pampered　as　a　g'Kek　might　groom　a　favorite　zookir？　Or　else；　did　the　sky…felons　simply　delete　her；　as　a　traeki　voids　its　core　of　spent　mulch；　or　as　Earthling　tyrants　used　to　eliminate　quislings　who　had　finished　serving　their　purpose？
　　For　every　secret　the　raiders　uncover；　there　are　as　many　ways　they　seem　shockingly　ignorant；　for　sky…gods。
　　It　is　a　puzzlement…and　small　solace　as　we　contemplate　the　proud；　intimidating　visitor　who　this　morn　came　before　the　Council　of　Sages。
　　My　rings；　has　memory　of　this　event　yet　coated　your　waxy　cores？　Do　you　recollect　the　star…human；　Rann；　making　his　request？　Asking　that　several　from　his　group　be　invited　along；　when　next　we　mune　with　the　Holy　Egg？
　　The　request　was　courteous；　yet　it　had　aspects　of　a　mand。
　　We　should　not　be　surprised。　How　could　the　aliens　not　notice　what　is　happening？
　　At　first　discernible　only　to　the　most　sensitive；　the　tremors　strengthen　till　now　they　pervade　this　corner　of　our　world。
　　…curling　the　mists　that　rise　from　geysers　and　steam　pools；
　　…guiding　patterned　flocks　of　passing　birdlings；
　　…waking　dormant　rewq；　both　in　caves　and　in　our　pouches；
　　…even　permeating　the　myriad　blue　colors　of　the　sky。
　　〃We　have　heard　much　about　your　sacred　stone；〃　Rann　said。　〃Its　activity　triggers　fascination　in　our　sensoria。　We　would　see　this　wonder　for　ourselves。〃
　　〃Very　well；〃　Vubben　answered　for　the　Six；　wrapping　three　eyestalks　in　a　gesture　of　assent。　Indeed　how　could　we　refuse？
　　〃Pray　tell…how　many　will　be　in　your　party？〃
　　Rann　bowed　again；　imposing　for　a　human；　as　tall　as　any　traeki；　broad　in　the　shoulders　as　a　young　hoon。　〃There　will　be　three。　Myself　and　Ling；　you　have　met。　As　for　the　third；　his　revered　name　is　Ro…kenn；　and　it　is　incumbent　to　realize　how　you　are　about　to　be　honored。　Our　master　must　be　shown　all　expressions　of　courtesy　and　respect。〃
　　With　varied　eyes；　visors；　and　sight　patches；　we　sages　winked　and　winced　amazement。　All　save　Lester　Cambel；　who　muttered　softly　next　to　our　traeki　stack；
　　〃So　the　bloody　Dakkins　had　one　underground　with　them；　all　along。〃
　　Humans　are　surprising　creatures；　but　Lester's　breach　in　tact　so　stunned　our　rings　that　〃i〃　was　unanimously　amazed。　Did　he　not　fear　being　overheard？
　　Apparently　not。　Through　our　rewq；　i　read　Lester's　ill…regard　for　the　man　across　from　us；　and　for　this　news。
　　As　for　the　rest　of　the　Council；　it　did　not　take　rewq　to　note　their　curiosity；
　　At　long　last；　we　were　about　to　meet　the　Rothen。
　　
　　Lark
　　Dear　Sara；
　　The　caravan　bearing　your　letter　took　some　time　to　get　here；　because　of　troubles　on　the　plains。　But　how　wonderful　to　see　your　familiar　scrawl；　and　to　hear　you're　well！　And　Father；　when　you　saw　him　last。　These　days；　there　are　few　enough　reasons　to　smile。
　　I'm　dashing　this　off　in　hopes　of　catching　the　next　brave　kayak…courier　to　head　down　the　Bibur。　If　it　reaches　Biblos　before　you　leave；　I　hope　I　can　persuade　you　not　to　e　up　here！　Things　are　awful　tense。　Recall　those　stories　we　told　each　other　about　the　dam；　back　home？　Well；　I　wouldn't　sleep　in　that　attic　room　right　now；　if　you　smell　my　smoke。　Please　stay　somewhere　safe　till　we　know　what's　happening。
　　As　you　asked；　I've　inquired　carefully　about　your　mysterious　stranger。　Clearly　the　aliens　are　seeking　someone　or　something；　beyond　their　goal　of　illicitly　adopting　a　candidate　species　for　uplift。　I　can't　prove　your　wounded　enigma…man　isn't　the　object　of　their　search；　but　I'd　bet　he's　at　most　a　small　part　of　the　picture。
　　I　could　be　wrong。　Sometimes　I　feel　we're　like　kitchen…ants　peering　upward；　trying　to　prehend　a　human　quarrel　from　the　stir　of　shadows　overhead。
　　Oh；　I　can　picture　your　look　right　now！　Don't　worry；　I'm　not　giving　up！　In　fact；　I　have　a　different　answer　to　the　question　you're　always　asking　me。。。。　Yes；　I　have　met　a　girl。　And　no；　I　don't　think　you'd　approve　of　her。　I'm　not　sure　this　boy　does；　either。
　　Smiling　ironically；　Lark　finished　the　first　page　of　the　letter　and　put　down　his　pen。　He　blew　on　the　paper；　then　picked　up　his　portable　blotter；　rolling　the　felt　across　the　still　damp　lines　of　ink。　He　took　a　fresh　sheet　out　of　the　leather　portfolio；　dipped　the　pen　in　the　ink　cup　and　resumed。
　　Along　with　this　note　you　'II　get　a　hand…cranked　copy　of　the　latest　report　the　sages　are　sending　throughout　the　mons；　plus　a　confidential　addendum　for　Ariana　Foo。　We've　learned　some　new　things；　though　so　far　nothing　likely　to　assure　our　survival　when　the　Rothen　ship　returns。　Bloor　is　here；　and　I've　been　helping　him　put　your　idea　into　effect；　though　I　see　potential　drawbacks　to　threatening　the　aliens；　the　way　you　remend。
　　Lark　hesitated。　Even　such　veiled　hints　might　be　too　much　to　risk。　In　normal　times　it　would　be　unthinkable　for　anyone　to　tamper　with　someone　else's　mail。　But　such　things　used　to　be　done　by　frantic　factions　during　ancient　Earthly　crises；　according　to　historical　accounts。　Anyway；　what　good　would　it　do　Sara　to　worry？　Feeling　like　a　wastrel；　he　crumpled　the　second　sheet　and　started　fresh。
　　Please　tell　Sage　Foo　that　young　Shirl；　Kurt's　daughter；　arrived　safely　along　with　B…r；　whose　work　proceeds　as　well　as　might　be　expected。
　　Meanwhile；　I've　followed　up　on　your　other　queries。　It's　delicate　questioning　these　space　people；　who　always　make　me　pay　with　information　useful　to　their　criminal　goals。　I　must　also　try　not　to　arouse　suspicion　over　why　I　want　to　know　certain　things。　Still；　I　managed　to　bargain　for　a　few　answers。
　　One　was　easy。　The　star　humans　do　not　routinely　use　Anglic；　or　Rossic；　or　any　other　〃barbaric　wolfling　tongue。〃　That's　how　Ling　put　it　the　other　day；　as　if　those　languages　were　much　too　vulgar　and　unrigorous　for　a　properly　scientific　person　to　use。　Oh；　she　and　the　others　speak　Anglic　well　enough　to　converse。　But　among　themselves；　they　prefer　GalSeven。
　　He　paused　to　dip　his　pen　in　the　cup　of　fresh　ink。
　　It　fits　our　notion　that　these　humans　do　not　e　from　the　main　branch　of　the　race！　They　aren't　representatives　of　Earth；　in　other　words；　but　e　instead　from　an　offshoot　that's　bound　in　loyalty　to　the　Rothen；　a　race　claiming　to　be　the　long…lost　patrons　of　humankind。
　　Recall　how　Mother　used　to　have　us　debate　the　Origins　Question？　One　of　us　arguing　the　Danikenite　side　and　the　other　supporting　the　Darwinists？　At　the　time　it　seemed　interesting　but　pretty　pointless；　since　all　our　facts　were　out　of　texts　three　hundred　years　old。　Who　would　think　we'd　live　to　see　an　answer　proclaimed　on　Jijo；　before　our　eyes？
　　As　to　the　validity　of　the　Rothen　claim；　I　can't　add　anything　to　the　report　except　that　Ling　and　the　others　seem　passionately　to　believe。
　　Lark　took　a　sip　from　an　earthenware　cup　of　springwater。　He　dipped　the　pen　again。
　　Now　for　the　big　news　everyone's　excited　about。　It　seems　we're　about　to　get　our　first　glimpse　of　one　of　these　mysterious　beings！　Within　hours；　one　or　more　Rothen　are　scheduled　to　emerge　from　their　buried　station　and　join　a　pilgrimage　to　the　reawakening　Egg！　All　this　time；　we　never　guessed　their　starship　had　left　any　of　them　behind　with　Rann　and　the　others。
　　The　mons　is　tense　as　a　violus　that's　been　strung　too　tight。　You　could　cut　the　anxiety　here　with　an　overused　metaphor。
　　I'd　better　wrap　this　up　if　I'm　to　slip　it　in　the　mail　packet。
　　Let's　see。　You　also　asked　about　〃neural　taps。〃　Do　the　aliens　use　such　things　to　municate　directly　with　puters　and　other　devices？
　　I　was　going　to　answer　yes。　Ling　and　the　rest　do　carry　tiny　devices　that　bring　them　voice　and　data　information；　arriving　as　if　by　magic　from　afar。
　　Then　I　reread　your　account　of　the　Stranger's　injury　and　reconsidered。　The　forayers　mand　their　machines　by　voice　and　gesture。　I　never　saw　anything　like　a　brain…direct　puter　link；　or　the　sort　of　〃instant　man…machine　rapport〃　Ariana　spoke　of。
　　Now　that　I　think　about　it
　　Lark　dipped　the　pen　again；　poised　to　continue；　then　stopped。
　　Footsteps　clattered　on　the　gravel　path　beyond　his　tent。　He　recognized　the　heavy；　scrape…ratchet　of　a　gray　qheuen。　Nor　was　it　the　casual；　unpretentious　rhythm　of　Uthen。　This　was　a　stately　twist…and…swivel　cadence；　using　a　plex　ripple　of　alternating　feet…a　difficult　aristocratic　step；　taught　by　chitinous　matriarchs　who　sometimes　styled　themselves　royal　queens。
　　Lark　laid　down　his　pen　and　closed　the　portfolio。　A　low；　wide　silhouette　loomed　against　the　tent　flap。　Harullen's　voice　was　acpanied　by　fluting　sighs　from　three　speech　vents；　each　singing　a　different　note　in　a　high　qheuenish　dialect　of　Galactic　Six。
　　〃Friend　Lark；　are　you　within？　Please　greet　me。　I　e　bearing　precious　gifts。〃
　　Lark　lifted　the　flap；　shading　his　eyes　as　he　emerged　from　dimness　to　face　the　lowering　sun；　poking　sharp　rays　between　rows　of　forest　giants。　〃I　greet　you；　Harullen；　faith…rade；〃　he　replied　in　the　same　language。
　　Harullen　wore　pilgrim's　robes　draped　across　his　pentagonal　carapace；　leaving　the　central　cupola　uncovered。　The　g'Kek…woven　finery　shimmered　under　glancing　sunshine。　It　took　a　moment　for　Lark's　adapting　eyes　to　spot　what　else　was　different…something　wound　around　the　qheuen's　ash…colored　cupola。
　　〃Aha；〃　he　ment