amccaffrey.theskiesofpern-第7部分

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akeholder　on　Bitkim　Island；　now　called　Ista　Hold。　He　needed　to　find　any　connection　between　Kimmer　and　Kenjo　Fusaiyuki；　who　had　been　the　original　Honshu　Stakeholder。
　　In　his　careful　clearing　of　debris　in　the　ancient　dwelling　place；　he　had　found　the　initials　SK　carved　or　etched　on　several　surfaces：　on　the　metal　worktop　in　the　garage　of　the　ancient　sled　and　on　several　drawers。　No　other　inhabitant　had　defaced　or　initialed　anything。　The　only　SK　not　listed　as　going　north　in　the　Second　Crossing…when　the　Thread…beleaguered　colonists　had　resettled　at　Fort…was　Stev　Kimmer。　Previous　research　revealed　that　the　man　had　disappeared　with　a　sled　after　Ted　Tubberman's　illegal　launch　of　an　appeal　for　help　from　old　Earth。　Kimmer　had　not　been　seen　again。　The　loss　of　a　functional　sled　had　been　officially　regretted；　Kimmer's　absence　had　not。
　　The　interesting　point　in　F'lessan's　earlier　search　was　that　Ita　Fusaiyuki　had　continued　to　hold　at　Honshu　and　resisted　every　invitation　to　move　north　with　her　children。　Other　colonists；　like　those　at　Terne　Island　and　some　of　the　smaller　holds　in　Dorado；　had　hung　on　in　the　south　as　long　as　they　could。　Eventually　all；　save　perhaps　those　at　Honshu；　had　immigrated。　There　had　been　no　reference　to　Honshu　or　the　Fusaiyukis　in　the　early　records　at　Fort　Hold。
　　The　initials；　S　and　K；　were　distinctively　carved。　F'lessan　needed　to　find　any　other　samples　of　Stev　Kimmer's　handwriting　to　be　sure　of　his　identification。　Not　that　it　mattered；　except　to　him。　With　atypical　zeal；　F'lessan　yearned　to　plete　the　history　of　Honshu　itself　as　accurately　as　possible：　who　had　lived　there；　when　they　had　left；　where　they　had　gone；　and　why。
　　Honshu　was　also　an　excellent　example　of　colonial　self…sufficiency。　Clearly　it　had　been　occupied　by　quite　a　few　people　and　designed　for　many　more：　a　whole　floor　of　bedrooms　had　never　been　furnished。　Then；　all　at　once　and　in　some　hurry；　considering　details　like　drawers　left　pulled　out　in　a　workshop　that　had　otherwise　been　meticulously　kept；　everyone　had　left。　Twelve　of　them　at　least。　To　judge　by　strands　of　moldering　material；　even　garments　had　been　left　behind；　folded　on　the　shelves；　in　drawers；　or　hanging　in　closets。　The　fact　that　all　the　utensils　were　still　stored　and　hung　about　the　capacious　kitchen　argued　that；　wherever　the　inhabitants　had　gone；　they　hadn't　needed　to　bring　along　household　equipment。　Storage　canisters　filled　with　desiccated　remnants　indicated　that　few；　if　any；　staples　had　been　taken。　There　were　homely　artifacts　like　rusted　needles；　pins；　and　scissors。　There　had　been　no　human　bones　to　suggest　a　sudden　annihilation　from　attack　or　disease。
　　Although　all　the　other　entrances　to　the　interior　of　Honshu　had　been　shut；　the　heavy　doors　to　the　beasthold　had　been　propped　open；　suggesting　that　the　Ancients　had　released　their　livestock　but　had　left　the　creatures　access　to　a　refuge。
　　He　turned　page　after　page　of　the　daily　ings　and　goings　from　Landing；　neatly　recorded　by　the　Tower　duty　officers。　He　saw　again　the　reference　to　Kimmer's　defection　with　a　much…needed　operational　sled。
　　S。K。　involved　in　the　Tubberman　launching。　Observed　on　a　northwestern　course。　Suspect　that's　the　last　we'll　see　of　him　and　the　sled。　ZO。
　　F'lessan　had　already　tried　to　find　any　notes　in　Kimmer's　handwriting　from　his　time　as　Stakeholder　at　Bitkim。　There　had　been　none　from　either　him　or　Avril　Bitra　about　their　mining　operations；　though　the　Minercrafthall　still　excavated　the　occasional　fine　gemstones　from　the　clay　at　their　original　site。
　　He　closed　the　final　volume　with　a　frustrated　soft　whoosh；　and　then　glanced　apologetically　over　his　shoulder　for　disturbing　the　quiet。　He　noticed　that　the　surface　of　Tai's　worktable　was　covered　with　bound　volumes。　Idly　he　wondered　if　she　was　having　any　more　luck　with　her　research　than　he　was。　Craning　his　neck　he　could　read　the　spine　on　the　book　facing　in　his　direction：　Volume　35…YOKO　13。20…28/。　The　last　four　digits；　which　would　be　the　relevant　Turn；　had　been　overwritten　in　red　marker　to　read　2520。　The　correction　had　been　made　in　the　precise　numerals　only　Master　Esselin　could　produce。
　　Stuffing　the　note　with　the　replica　of　the　initials　back　into　his　belt　pocket；　he　rose　with　quiet　agility；　trying　not　to　scrape　the　chair　on　the　stone　floor。　Collecting　the　volumes　he　had　been　consulting；　he　returned　them　to　the　proper　shelf。　He　stood　for　a　moment；　fists　jammed　into　his　belt；　glaring　at　the　rows　of　records　that　would　not　produce　the　answer　to　his　puzzle。　Was　there　a　reason　why　he　had　to　identify　SK？　Who　would　care？　He　did；　for　some　obscure　reason　he　didn't　understand。　He　made　sure　the　books　were　properly　aligned　on　the　shelf。　Master　Esselin　was　very　particular　about　how　his　precious　volumes　were　returned。
　　Hearing　Tai　get　to　her　feet　and　push　back　her　chair；　F'lessan　swiveled　around　to　see　her　picking　up　the　outsized　book　she　had　been　studying。　She　hefted　it　up；　pirouetting　gracefully　on　tiptoe　to　return　it　to　the　special　shelf　in　the　case　behind　her。
　　〃I　hope　you　had　better　luck；〃　he　said　with　a　rueful　grin。
　　Startled；　she　lost　her　grip　on　the　awkward；　heavy　tome。　One　edge　was　wedged　against　the　lower　shelf。　She　struggled　to　get　it　up　again　and　into　its　assigned　place；　but　her　hand　slipped。　Knowing　how　difficult　Master　Esselin　could　be　about　damage　to　any　artifact　in　his　custody；　F'lessan　leaped　across　to　catch　the　volume；　just　managing　to　keep　one　corner　from　impacting　on　the　stone　floor。
　　〃Not　a　bad　save；　if　I　say　so　myself；〃　he　said；　grinning　up　at　her。　Why　was　she　regarding　him　as　if　he　were　dangerous？　Or　shifty？　〃I've　got　it。　Allow　me？〃　With　what　he　sincerely　hoped　was　a　cheerful　smile；　he　took　the　volume　from　her　nerveless　fingers　and　shoved　it　safely　into　place。
　　That　was　when　he　saw　the　raw　scrapes　on　the　back　of　her　left　hand。
　　〃That　looks　nasty。　Seen　a　healer？〃　he　asked。　He　reached　out　to　examine　the　injury；　at　the　same　time　fumbling　in　his　belt　pouch　for　numbweed。
　　She　tried　to　pull　free　of　his　grasp。
　　〃Tai；　did　I　hurt　you？〃　he　asked；　instantly　releasing　her　fingers。　He　quickly　displayed　the　distinctive　green　glass　jar　used　for　numbweed。
　　〃It's　nothing。〃
　　〃Don't　try　that　on　me；〃　he　said；　mock　stern。　〃I'll　get　Golanth　to　make　Zaranth　tell　on　you。〃
　　She　blinked　rapidly　in　surprise。　〃It's　just　a　scrape。〃
　　〃This　is　Southern；　Tai；　and　you　should　know　by　now　that　even　well…tended　wounds　can　develop　some　peculiar　infections。〃　He　cocked　his　head　at　her；　wondering　if　he　should　try　a　coaxing　smile。　He　had　the　jar　open　and　passed　it　under　her　nose。　〃Smell？　Just　reliable　old　numbweed。　Fresh　made　this　spring。　My　own　private　supply。〃　He　used　the　tone　that　had　been　effective　with　his　sons　when　they　were　tots。　He　held　out　his　hand　again；　palm　up；　wriggling　his　fingers　to　overe　her　reluctance。　〃Someone　might　grab　that　hand　later　when　you're　dancing　and　that'd　really　hurt。〃　As　if　on　cue；　music　from　the　square　swelled　into　an　audible　finale。
　　She　relented　and；　almost　meekly；　extended　her　hand。　He　lifted　his　palm　up　to　steady　her　fingers　as　he　turned　the　numbweed　jar　over　the　scrape；　waiting　for　a　glob　of　the　semiliquid　stuff　to　ooze　down。
　　〃It's　easier　to　let　it　take　its　own　time；〃　he　remarked　idly；　all　too　aware　of　her　nervousness。　The　gouges　weren't　deep；　he　noticed；　but　went　from　knuckles　to　wrist。　She　should　have　taken　care　of　it　immediately。　It　was；　he　judged　from　long　experience　with　injuries；　several　hours　old。　Why　had　she　ignored　it？
　　She　gave　a　little　gasp　as　the　cool　numbweed　flowed。　Expertly；　F'lessan　tilted　her　fingers　and　they　both　watched　the　salve　slowly　cover　the　scratches。
　　〃At　Turnover　one　is　more　apt　to　require　fellis　for　overindulgence　than　numbweed。〃　That　wasn't　a　particularly　clever　remark；　F'lessan　said　to　himself　and　gave　his　head　a　little　shake。　〃There！　That'll　prevent　infection。〃
　　〃I　didn't　realize　it　was　quite　so　bad。　I　was　in　a　hurry；　you　see。〃　She　gave　the　reading　room　a　quick　glance。
　　〃Trying　to　work　without　interruption。〃　He　chuckled；　hoping　that　wouldn't　offend　her　as　much　as　his　smile　seemed　to。　〃That's　why　I'm　here。　No；　wait　a　few　moments　longer　to　let　the　numbweed　set；〃　he　added　when　she　started　to　move。
　　He　pulled　out　a　chair；　indicating　that　she　should　seat　herself