uplift4.brightnessreef-第66章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　Didn't　I　tell　Danel　we　should　wait　for　Rety？　I　may　be　a　tracker；　but　she　came　out　through　this　desolation　all　by　herself。
　　More　than　ever　he　was　impressed　by　the　girl's　un…swayable　tenacity。
　　If　there　is　a　second　party；　and　she's　with　them；　Rety's　probably　chortling　over　me　falling　into　this　trap。　If　she　knows　some　secret　shortcut；　they　may　reach　the　tribe　before　us。　Now　won't　that　screw　up　Danel's　plans！
　　Even　moving　parallel　with　the　river　was　awkward　and　dangerous；　a　struggle　up　steep　bluffs；　then　back　down　the　slippery　bank　of　one　icy　tributary　after　another。　To　Dwer's　surprise；　Mudfoot　came　along；　forsaking　Danel's　campfire　and　Jenin's　pampering　attention。　The　trek　was　too　hard　for　any　of　the　noor's　standard　antics；　ambushing　Dwer　or　trying　to　trip　him。　After　a　while；　they　even　began　helping　each　other。　He　carried　the　noor　across　treacherous；　foamy　creeks。　At　other　times；　Mudfoot　sped　ahead　to　report　with　squeals　and　quivers　which　of　two　paths　seemed　better。
　　Still；　the　river　and　its　canyon　tormented　them；　appearing　almost　to　open　up；　then　abruptly　closing　again；　narrower　and　steeper　than　before。　By　noon　of　the　second　day；　Dwer　was　muttering　sourly　over　the　obstinate　nastiness　of　the　terrain。　Fallon　warned　me　about　the　Gray　Hills。　But　I　always　figured　I'd　get　to　go　through　the　old　man's　notes　and　maps。　Pick　a　path　based　on　the　trips　of　earlier　hunters。
　　Yet　none　of　them　had　ever　found　any　trace　of　Rety's　band；　so　maybe　they　relied　too　much　on　each　other's　advice；　repeatedly　taking　the　same　route　in　and　out　of　these　badlands。　A　route　the　sooners　knew　to　avoid。　Maybe　all　this　horrid　inaccessibility　meant　Danel's　group　was　getting　near　the　tribe's　home　base。
　　That's　it；　boy。　Keep　thinkin'　that　way；　if　it　makes　you　feel　better。
　　Wouldn't　it　be　great　to　struggle　all　this　way；　and　back；　only　to　learn　that　Lena　had　already　found　a　good　crossing；　just　a　little　ways　downstream？　That　thought　tortured　Dwer　as　he　shared　food　with　Mudfoot。　Going　on　seemed　futile；　and　he'd　have　to　call　the　trip　a　loss　in　a　few　hours　anyway。　Dwer's　fingers　and　toes　ached；　along　with　overstrained　tendons　across　his　back　and　legs。　But　it　was　the　pounding　roar　of　rushing　water　that　really　wore　away　at　him；　as　if　a　clock　teet　had　been　hammering　inside　his　head　for　days。
　　〃Do　you　think　we　oughta　head　back？〃　he　asked　the　noor。
　　Mudfoot　cocked　its　sleek　head；　giving　Dwer　that　deceptively　intelligent　expression；　reminding　him　of　legends　that　said　the　beasts　could　grant　wishes…if　you　wanted　something　so　bad；　you　didn't　care　about　the　cost。　Workmen　used　the　expression　〃Let's　consult　a　noor〃　to　mean　a　problem　couldn't　be　solved；　and　it　was　time　to　soften　frustration　with　a　set　of　stiff　drinks。
　　〃Well；〃　Dwer　sighed；　hoisting　his　pack　and　bow；　〃I　don't　guess　it'd　hurt　to　go　on　a　ways。　I'd　feel　silly　if　it　turned　out　we　missed　a　good　ford　just　over　the　next　rise。〃
　　Thirty　duras　later；　Dwer　crawled　up　a　thorny　bank；　cursing　the　brambles　and　the　slippery　wetness　that　soaked　his　skin；　wishing　he　was　on　his　way　back　to　a　hot　meal　and　a　dry　blanket。　Finally；　he　reached　a　place　to　stand；　sucking　an　oozing　scratch　across　the　back　of　his　hand。
　　He　turned…and　stared　through　a　mist　at　what　lay　ahead。
　　A　crashing　waterfall；　whose　roar　had　been　masked　by　the　turbulent　river；　stretched　low　and　wide　from　far　to　the　left　all　the　way　to　the　distant　right。　A　wide　curtain　of　spray　and　foam。
　　Yet　that　was　not　what　made　Dwer　gape。
　　Just　before　the　roaring　plummet；　traversing　the　river　from　bank　to　bank；　lay　a　broad　expanse　of　rocky　shallows　that　appeared　nowhere　more　than　ankle　deep。
　　〃I　guess　this　settles　the　question　of　whether　or　not　to　proceed。〃　He　sighed。
　　Shortly；　he　and　Mudfoot　stood　at　last　on　the　other　shore；　having　sloshed　easily　across　to　prove　the　ford　was　safe。　From　there　an　obvious　game　trail　zigzagged　through　the　forest；　departing　the　canyon　eastward。
　　On　my　way　back　downstream　I'll　scout　an　easier　path　for　Danel　and　the　others　to　get　up　here。　Success　took　much　of　the　sting　out　of　his　aches　and　pains。　There's　a　chance　Lena　beat　me　to　a　way　across。　Still；　I　found　this　place；　and　maybe　I'm　the　first！　If　all　this　stupid　alien　stuff　blows　over　and　we　get　to　go　home；　I'll　check　Fallon's　maps　to　see　if　anyone's　named　this　spot　since　the　Buyur　went　away。
　　The　broad　falls　reminded　him　of　the　spillway　back　at　Dolo　Village；　a　thought　that　was　sweet；　but　also　a　bitter　reminder　of　why　he　was　here；　so　far　from　Sara　and　everyone　else　he　loved。
　　I'm　here　to　survive。　It's　my　job　to　cower　and　have　babies　with　women　I　barely　know；　while　those　on　the　Slope　suffer　and　die。
　　The　pleasure　of　discovery　evaporated。　Shame　he　displaced　with　a　wooden　determination　to　do　the　job　he　had　been　manded　to　do。　Dwer　started　to　head　back　across　the　shallows。。。　then　paused　in　his　tracks；　acutely　aware　of　a　tickling　sensation　in　the　middle　of　his　back。
　　Something　was　wrong。
　　Frowning；　he　slipped　off　the　bow　and　drew　the　string…tightening　lever。　With　an　arrow　nocked；　he　flared　his　nostrils　to　suck　humid　air。　It　was　hard　to　make　out　anything　in　the　musty　dankness。　But　judging　from　Mudfoot's　arched　spines；　the　noor　felt　it　too。
　　Someone's　here；　he　thought；　moving　swiftly　inland　to　get　under　the　first　rank　of　trees。　Or　was　here；　recently。　Away　from　the　shore；　the　place　stank　with　a　terrible　muddle　of　scents；　which　was　natural　next　to　the　only　river　crossing　for　many　leagues。　Animals　would　e　to　drink；　then　leave　territorial　markings。　But　Dwer　sensed　something　else；　inserting　a　wary　hint　of　threat。
　　Painfully　aware　that　open　water　lay　at　his　back；　he　moved　deeper　into　the　forest。
　　I　smell。。。　burnt　wood…someone　had　a　fire；　not　too　long　ago。
　　He　scanned。　Sniffing　and　peering。　It　was　over。。。　there。
　　Amid　the　shadows；　half　a　stone's　throw　away；　he　made　out　the　remnants；　set　in　a　modest　clearing。　A　large　pit　of　black　ashes。
　　Some　of　Rety's　band？　He　worried。　Might　Jass　and　Bom　be　watching　right　now；　picking　their　best　shot　at　an　intruder　from　the　dreaded　west？
　　Clues　lay　in　the　brushing　rustle　of　wind　in　the　branches；　the　furtive　movements　of　insects　and　birds。　But　this　terrain　and　wildlife　were　strange　to　him；　and　the　racket　from　the　waterfall　would　drown　out　a　militia　pany　on　maneuvers。
　　Mudfoot　made　a　low　chuffing　growl　and　sniffed　close　to　the　ground　while　Dwer　scanned　the　plex　dimness　beyond　the　next　rank　of　trees。　〃What　is　it？〃　he　asked；　kneeling　where　Mudfoot　scratched　a　layer　of　freshly　fallen　leaves。
　　A　familiar　odor　struck　him　fully。
　　〃Donkey　shit？〃
　　He　risked　a　quick　glance…and　didn't　need　a　second　look。
　　Donkeys？　But　Rety　said　the　sooners　didn't　have　any！
　　With　dark…adapting　eyes　he　now　picked　out　traces　of　pack　beasts　all　over　the　clearing。　Hoofprints　and　droppings　from　at　least　a　dozen　animals。　A　stake　where　a　remuda　line　was　tethered。　Flattened　spots　where　cargo　carriers　must　have　lain。
　　He　lowered　the　bow。　So　a　second　expedition　had　set　out；　passing　the　first　by　a　better　route；　no　doubt　led　by　Rety　herself。
　　Well；　at　least　we　won't　be　quite　so　outnumbered　by　the　sooners；　even　if　contact　doesn't　happen　in　the　order　Danel　planned。
　　An　element　of　relief　was　more　personal；　if　ungallant。　My　choice　in　a　future　mate　might　go　beyond　Jenin；　Lena；　or　some　surly　cousin　of　Rety's。
　　Something　still　nagged　at　Dwer；　however；　making　him　reluctant　to　put　down　the　bow。　He　was　counting　wallows…the　depressions　made　by　donkeys　as　they　lay…and　realized　there　were　just　too　many。　Or　rather；　there　were　two　different　kinds　of　wallow。　Nearer　the　fire　they　were　smaller；　closer。。。。
　　No。　It　can't　be。
　　Anywhere　else；　scent　would　have　hit　him　long　before　this。　Now　a　sharp；　familiar　pungency　smacked　Dwer　in　his　sinuses。　He　bent　to　pluck　a　clump　of　stringy　fur；　still　coated　from　when　the　owner　rolled；　in　ash　after　an　unpleasantly　wet　river　crossing。
　　Glossy　strands　from　an　urrish　mane。
　　It　had　been　generations　since　the　last　war。　Regardless；　instinctive　fear　surged　in　Dwer's　chest…a　heart…pounding　wave　of　angst。
　　An　urrish　caravan　in　these　parts　could　not　be　up　to　anything　good。
　　Here　in　the　wilderness；　far　from　the　restraint　of　sages　and　the　mons；　with　the　Six　possibly　already　extinct　back　home；　all　the　old　rules　were　clearly　moot。　As　in　days　before　the　Great　Peace；　Dwer　knew　how　dangerous　these　beings　would　be　to　have　as　enemies。
　　Silent　as　a　ghost；　he　crept　away；　then　crossed　the　river　in　a　zigzag　dash；　leaping　behind　a　boulder；　then　swiveling　to　cover　the　opposite　bank　while　Mudfoot　came　splashing　behind；　clearly　as　eager　to　get　out　of　there　as　he　was。
　　Dwer　kept　wary　watch　for　a　whole　midura；　till　long　after　his　pounding　pulse　finally　settled。
　　At　last；　when　it　seemed　safe；　he　slung　his　bow　and　set　off　downstream；　running　when　and　where　he　could；　hurrying　southward　with　news。
　　
　　Asx
　　CAN　YOU　SEE　THE　SMOKE；　OH　MY　RINGS？　Spiraling　from　a　fresh　cavity　in　Jijo's　ruptured　soil？　Two　moons　cast　wan　beams　through　that　sooty　pall；　piercing　a　crater　wherein　twisty　metal　shapes　flicker　and　burn。
　　Distracting　thoughts　rise　from　our　second　torus…of…cognition。
　　What　is　that　you　say；　my　ring？　That　this　is　a　very　large　amount　of　dross？　Dross　that　will　not　degrade　back　to　nature　on　its　own？
　　Indeed　it　is。　Shall　we　hope　that　the　aliens　themselves　will　clean　up　the　mess？　It　would　take　a　hundred　donkey…caravans　to　haul　so　much　hard　waste　down　to　the　sea。
　　Another　ring　suggests　a　stream　be　diverted；　to　form　a　lake。　A　transplanted　mule…spider　might　dissolve　the　sinful　wreckage　over　the　course　of　centuries。
　　By　mass　vote；　we　send　these　thoughts　to　waxy　storage　for　later　reflection。　For　now；　let　us　watch　events　flow　in　real　time。
　　A　roiling　mob　of　onlookers　teems　the　slopes　overlooking　this　savaged　vale；　held　in　check　by　stunned；　overworked　proctors。　Higher　on　tree…shrouded　hills；　we　glimpse　murky　ranks　of　disciplined　silhouettes；　wheeling　and　maneuvering…militia　units　taking　up　positions。　From　here　we　cannot　tell　the　panies'　intent。　Are　they　preparing；　counter　to　all　hope；　to　defend　the　mons　against　overpowering　vengeance？　Or　else　have　inter…sept　grudges　finally　torn　the　Great　Peace；　so　that　we　hasten　doomsday　tearing　each　other　apart　with　our　own　bloody　hands？
　　Perhaps　even　the　manders　of　those　dark　battalions　don't　yet　know　for　sure。
　　Meanwhile；　closer　to　the　heat；　Ur…Jah　and　Lester　Cambel　supervise　teams　of　brave　urs；　men；　hoon；　and　gray　qheuens；　who　descend　into　the　pit　armed　with　ropes　and　tools　of　Buyur　steel。
　　Ro…kenn　protests　at　first；　does　he　not；　my　rings？　In　hasty　GalSeven；　the　Rothen　emissary　decries　those　he　calls　〃wanton　looters。〃　One　of　the　remnant　robots　rises；　unfolding　spiky　organs　of　punishment。
　　Vubben　urges　that　Ro…kenn　look　again。　Can　he　not　recognize　sincere　efforts　at　rescue？　For　two　tense　duras　we　poise　on　a　precipice。　Then；　with　a　grudging　mutter；　the　Rothen　recalls　his　death　machine…for　now。
　　From　Ro…kenn's　charismatic；　human…handsome　face；　our　steady　old　rewq　translates　undertones　of　grief　and　rage。　True；　this　race　is　new　to　us；　and　rewq　can　be　fooled。　Yet　what　else　should　we　expect　from　one　whose　home/campsite　lies　in　ruins？　Whose　rades　languish；　dead　or　dying；　in　the　twisted　tangle　of　their　buri