fh.godemperorofdune-第95部分

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　Nayla　glanced　to　the　right　at　Siona。　Siona　returned　her　gaze　and　nodded　once。　Nayla　drew　the　lasgun　from　its　holster　and　rested　it　against　the　rock　pillar　as　she　sighted　along　it。　The　cable　on　the　left　first；　then　the　cable　on　the　right；　then　the　faery　trellis　of　plasteel　on　the　left。　The　lasgun　felt　cold　and　alien　against　Nayla's　hand。　She　took　a　trembling　breath　to　restore　calm。
　I　must　obey。　It　is　a　test。
　She　saw　Moneo　lift　his　gaze　from　the　roadway　and；　not　changing　stride；　turn　to　shout　something　at　the　cart　or　the　ones　behind　it。　Nayla　could　not　make　out　the　words。　Moneo　faced　front　once　more。　Nayla　steadied　herself；　a　part　of　the　rock　pillar　which　concealed　most　of　her　body。
　A　test。
　Moneo　had　seen　the　people　on　the　bridge　and　at　the　far　end。　He　identified　Fish　Speaker　uniforms　and　his　first　thought　was　to　wonder　who　had　ordered　these　greeters。　He　turned　and　shouted　a　question　at　Leto；　but　the　God　Emperor's　cart　cover　remained　opaque；　hiding　Hwi　and　Leto　within　it。
　Moneo　was　onto　the　bridge；　the　cart　rasping　in　blown　sand　behind　him；　before　he　recognized　Siona　and　Idaho　standing　well　back　from　the　far　end。　He　identified　four　Museum　Fremen　seated　on　the　roadway。　Doubts　began　squirming　through　Moneo's　mind；　but　he　could　not　change　the　pattern。　He　ventured　a　glance　down　at　the　river…a　platinum　world　there　caught　in　the　noonday　light。　The　sound　of　the　cart　was　loud　behind　him。　The　flow　of　the　river；　the　flow　of　the　cortege；　the　sweeping　importance　of　these　things　in　which　he　played　a　role…all　of　it　caught　up　his　mind　in　a　dizzying　sensation　of　the　inevitable。
　We　are　not　people　passing　this　way；　he　thought。　We　are　primal　elements　linking　one　piece　of　Time　to　another。　And　when　we　have　passed；　everything　behind　us　will　drop　off　into　no…sound；　a　place　like　the　no…room　of　the　lxians；　yet　never　again　the　same　as　it　was　before　we　came。
　A　bit　from　one　of　the　lute…player's　songs　wafted　through　Moneo's　memory　and　his　eyes　went　out　of　focus　in　the　remembrance。　He　knew　that　song　for　its　wishfulness；　a　wish　that　all　of　this　were　ended；　all　past；　all　doubts　banished；　tranquility　returned。　The　plaintive　song　drifted　through　his　awareness　like　smoke；　twisting　and　pelling：
　〃Insect　cries　in　roots　of　pampas　grass。〃　
　Moneo　hummed　the　song　to　himself：
　〃Insect　cries　mark　the　end。　
　Autumn　and　my　song　are　the　color　
　Of　the　last　leaves　
　In　roots　of　pampas　grass。〃
　Moneo　nodded　his　head　to　the　refrain：
　〃Day　is　ended；　Visitors　gone。　Day　is　ended。　In　our　Sietch；　Day　is　ended。　Storm　wind　sounds。　Day　is　ended。　Visitors　gone。〃
　Moneo　decided　that　the　lute…player's　song　had　to　be　a　really　old　one；　an　Old　Fremen　song；　no　doubt　of　it。　And　it　told　him　something　about　himself。　He　wished　the　visitors　truly　gone；　the　excitements　ended；　peace　once　more。　Peace　was　so　near。。。　yet　he　could　not　leave　his　duties。　He　thought　of　all　that　impedimenta　piled　out　there　on　the　sand　just　beyond　visibility　range　from　Tuono。　They　would　see　it　all　soon…tents；　food；　tables；　golden　plates　and　jeweled　knives；　glowglobes　fashioned　in　the　arabesque　shapes　of　ancient　lamps。。。everything　rich　and　full　of　expectations　from　pletely　different　lives。
　They　will　never　be　the　same　in　Tuono。
　Moneo　had　spent　two　nights　in　Tuono　once　on　an　inspection　tour。　He　remembered　the　smells　of　their　cooking　fires…aromatic　bushes　kindled　and　flaming　in　the　dark。　They　would　not　use　sunstoves　because　〃that　is　not　the　most　ancient　way。〃
　Most　ancient！
　There　was　little　smell　of　melange　in　Tuono。　A　sweet　acridity　and　the　musky　oils　of　oasis　shrubs；　these　dominated　the　odors。　Yes。。。and　the　cesspools　and　the　stink　of　rotting　garbage。　He　recalled　the　God　Emperor's　ment　when　Moneo　had　finished　reporting　on　that　tour。
　〃These　Fremen　do　not　know　what　is　lost　from　their　lives。　They　think　they　keep　the　essence　of　the　old　ways。　This　is　a　failure　of　all　museums。　Something　fades；　it　dries　out　of　the　exhibits　and　is　gone。　The　people　who　administer　the　museum　and　the　people　who　e　to　bend　over　the　cases　and　stare　few　of　them　sense　this　missing　thing。　It　drove　the　engine　of　life　in　earlier　times。　When　the　life　is　gone；　it　is　gone。〃
　Moneo　focused　on　the　three　Fish　Speakers　who　stood　just　ahead　of　him　on　the　bridge。　They　lifted　their　arms　high　and　began　to　dance；　whirling　and　skipping　away　from　him　only　a　few　paces　distant。
　How　odd；　he　thought。　I've　seen　the　other　people　dance　in　the　open；　but　never　Fish　Speakers。　They　only　dance　in　the　privacy　of　their　quarters；　in　the　intimacy　of　their　own　pany。
　This　thought　was　still　in　his　mind　when　he　heard　the　first　awful　humming　of　the　lasgun　and　felt　the　bridge　lurch　beneath　him。
　This　is　not　happening；　his　mind　told　him。
　He　heard　the　Royal　Cart　scrape　sideways　across　the　roadbed；　then　the　snap…slap　of　the　cart's　cover　slamming　open。　A　bedlam　of　screams　and　cries　arose　from　behind　him；　but　he　could　not　turn。　The　bridge's　roadbed　had　tipped　steeply　to　Moneo's　right；　spilling　him　onto　his　face　while　he　went　sliding　toward　the　abyss。　He　clutched　a　severed　strand　of　cable　to　stop　himself。　The　cable　went　with　him；　everything　grating　in　the　spilling　film　of　sand　which　had　covered　the　roadbed。　He　clutched　the　cable　with　both　hands；　turning　with　it。　He　saw　the　Royal　Cart　then。　It　skewed　sideways　toward　the　edge　of　the　bridge；　its　cover　open。　Hwi　stood　there；　one　hand　steadying　her　on　the　folding　seat　while　she　stared　past　Moneo。
　A　horrible　screaming　of　metal　filled　the　air　as　the　roadbed　tipped　even　farther。　He　saw　people　from　the　cortege　falling；　their　mouths　open；　arms　waving。　Something　had　caught　Moneo's　cable。　His　arms　were　stretched　out　over　his　head　as　he　turned　once　more；　twisting。　He　felt　his　hands；　greased　by　the　perspiration　of　fear；　slipping　along　the　cable。
　Once　more；　his　gaze　came　around　to　the　Royal　Cart。　It　lay　jammed　against　the　stubs　of　broken　girders。　Even　as　Moneo　looked；　the　God　Emperor's　futile　hands　groped　for　Hwi　Noree；　but　failed　to　reach　her。　She　fell　from　the　cart's　open　end；　silently；　the　golden　gown　whipping　upward　to　reveal　her　body　stretched　out　as　straight　as　an　arrow。
　A　deep；　rumbling　groan　came　from　the　God　Emperor。
　Why　doesn't　he　activate　the　suspensors？　Moneo　wondered。　The　suspensors　will　support　him。
　But　the　lasgun　was　still　humming　and；　as　Moneo's　hands　slipped　from　the　cable's　severed　end；　he　saw　lancing　flame　strike　the　cart's　suspensor　bubbles；　piercing　one　after　another　in　eruptions　of　golden　smoke。　Moneo　stretched　his　hands　over　his　head　as　he　fell。
　The　smoke！　The　golden　smoke！
　His　robe　whipped　upward；　turning　him　until　his　face　was　directed　downward　into　the　abyss。　With　his　gaze　on　the　depths；　he　recognized　a　maelstrom　of　boiling　rapids　there；　the　mirror　of　his　life…precipitous　currents　and　plunges；　all　movement　gathering　up　all　substance。　Leto's　words　wound　through　his　mind　on　a　path　of　golden　smoke：　〃Caution　is　the　path　to　mediocrity。　Gliding；　passionless　mediocrity　is　all　that　most　people　think　they　can　achieve。〃　Moneo　fell　freely　then　in　the　ecstasy　of　awareness。　The　universe　opened　for　him　like　clear　glass；　everything　flowing　in　a　no　Time。
　The　golden　smoke！
　〃Leto！〃　he　screamed。　〃Siaynoq！　I　believe！〃
　The　robe　tore　away　from　his　shoulders　then。　He　turned　in　the　wind　of　the　canyon…one　last　glimpse　of　the　Royal　Cart　tipping。。。tipping　from　the　shattered　roadbed。　The　God　Emperor　slid　out　of　the　open　end。
　Something　solid　smashed　into　Moneo's　back…his　last　sensation。
　Leto　felt　himself　sliding　from　the　cart。　His　awareness　held　only　the　image　of　Hwi　striking　the　river…the　distant　pearly　fountain　which　marked　her　plunge　into　the　myths　and　dreams　of　termination。　Her　last　words；　calm　and　steady；　rolled　through　all　of　his　memories：　〃I　shall　go　on　ahead；　Love。〃
　As…　he　slipped　from　the　cart；　he　saw　the　scimitar　arc　of　the　river；　a　sliver…edged　thing　which　shimmered　in　its　mottled　shadows；　a　vicious　blade　of　a　river　honed　through　Eternity　and　ready　now　to　receive　him　into　its　agony。
　I　cannot　cry；　nor　even　shout；　he　thought。　Tears　are　no　longer　possible。　They're　water。　I'll　have　water　enough　in　a　moment。　I　can　only　moan　in　my　grief。　I　am　alone；　more　alone　than　ever　before。
　His　great　ridged　body　flexed　as　it　fell；　twisting　him　about　until　his　amplified　visio