cb.imajica2-第8部分
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rrows。
〃Where did you e from？〃 he said slowly。
〃I think you know；〃 Gentle replied。
〃The Fifth？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃You came to bring me down； didn't you？ Why didn't I see it？ You started this revolution！ You were out in the streets； sowing the seeds！ No wonder I couldn't root the rebels out。 I kept wondering： Who is it？ Who's out there； plotting against me？ Execution after execution； purge after purge； and I never got to the one at the heart of it。 The one who was as clever as me。 The nights I lay awake thinking： Who is it？ Who？ I made a list as long as my arm。 But never you； Maestro。 Never Sartori。〃
Hearing the Autarch name himself was shocking enough； but this second naming bred utter rebellion in Gentle's system。 His head filled with the same din that had beset him on the platform at Maike； and his belly disgorged its contents in one bilious heave。 He put his hand out to the table to steady himself and missed the edge； slipping to the floor where his vomit was already spattered。 Floundering in his own mess； he tried to shake the noise from his head； but all he did was unknot the confusion of sounds and let the words they concealed slip through。
Sartori！ He was Sartori！ He didn't waste breath questioning the name。 It was his； and he knew it。 And what worlds there were in that naming： more confounding than anything the Dominions had unveiled； opening before him like windows blown wide and shattered； never to be closed again。
He heard the name spoken out of a hundred memories。 A woman sighed it as she begged him back into her disheveled bed。 A priest beat out the syllables on his pulpit； prophesying damnation。 A gambler blew it into his cupped hands to bless his dice。 Condemned men made prayers of it； drunkards； mockery； carousers； songs。
Oh； but he'd been famous！ At St。 Bartholomew Fair there'd been troupes who'd filled their purses； telling his life as farce。 A bordello in Bloomsbury had boasted a sometime nun driven to nymphomania by his touch； who would chant his conjurations （so she said） as she was fucked。 He was a paradigm of all things fabulous and forbidden： a threat to reasoning men； to their wives； a secret vice。 And to the children…the children； trailing past his house after the beadle…he was a rhyme：
Maestro Sartori
Wants a bit o'glory。
He loves the cats；
He loves the dogs；
He turns the ladies into frogs；
He made some hats
Of baby rats；
But that's another story。
This chant； repeated in his head in the piping voices of parish orphans； was worse in its way than the pulpit curses； or the sobs； or the prayers。 It rolled on and on； in its fatuous way； gathering neither meaning nor music as it went。 Like his life； without this name： motion without purpose。
〃Had you forgotten？〃 the Autarch asked him。
〃Oh； yes；〃 Gentle replied； unbidden and bitter laughter ing to his lips with the reply。 〃I'd forgotten。〃
Even now； with the voices rebaptizing him with their clamor； he could scarcely believe it。 Had this body of his survived two hundred years and more in the Fifth Dominion； while his mind went on deceiving itself： holding only a decade of life in its consciousness and hiding the rest away？ Where had he lived all those years？ Who had he been？ If what he'd just heard was true； this act of remembering was just the first。 There were two centuries of memories concealed in his brain somewhere； waiting to be discovered。 No wonder Pie had kept him in ignorance。 Now that he knew； madness was very close。
He got to his feet； holding on to the table for support。 〃Is Pie 'oh' pah here？〃 he said。
〃The mystif？ No。 Why？ Did it e with you from the Fifth？〃
〃Yes； it did。〃
A twitch of a smile returned to the Autarch's face。 〃Aren't they exquisite creatures？〃 he said。 〃I've had one or two myself。 They're an acquired taste； but once you've got it you never really lose it again。 But no； I haven't seen it。〃
〃Judith； then？〃
〃Ah。〃 He sighed。 〃Judith。 I assume you mean Godolphin's lady？ She went by a lot of names； didn't she？ Mind you； we all did。 What do they call you these days？〃
〃I told you。 John Furie Zacharias。 Or Gentle。〃
〃I have a few friends who know me as Sartori。 I'd like to number you among them。 Or do you want the name back？〃
〃Gentle will do。 We were talking about Judith。 I saw her this morning； down by the harbor。〃
〃Did you see Christ down there？〃
〃What are you talking about？〃
〃She came back here saying she'd seen the Man of Sorrows。 She had the fear of the Lord in her。 Crazy bitch。〃 He sighed。 〃It was sad； really； to see her that way。 I thought it was just too much kreauchee at first； but no。 She'd finally lost her mind。 It was running out of her ears。〃
〃Who are we talking about？〃 Gentle said； thinking one or the other of them had mislaid the path of the conversation。
〃I'm talking about Quaisoir； my wife。 She came with me from the Fifth。〃
〃I was talking about Judith。〃
〃So was I。〃
〃Are you saying…〃
〃There are two。 You made one of them yourself； for God's sake； or have you forgotten that too？〃
〃Yes。 Yes； I'd forgotten。〃
〃She was beautiful； but she wasn't worth losing the Imajica for。 That was your big mistake。 You should have served your hand and not your rod。 Then I'd never have been born； and God would be in His heaven； and you'd be Pope Sartori。 Ha！ Is that why you came back？ To bee pope？ It's too late； brother。 By tomorrow morning Yzordderrex will be a heap of smoking ash。 This is my last night here。 I'm going to the Fifth。 I'm going to build a new empire there。〃
〃Why？〃
〃Don't you remember the rhyme they used to sing？ For glory's sake。〃
〃Haven't you had enough of that？〃
〃You tell me。 Whatever's in my heart was plucked from yours。 Don't tell me you haven't dreamed of power。 You were the greatest Maestro in Europe。 There was nobody could touch you。 That didn't all evaporate overnight。〃
He moved towards Gentle for the first time in this exchange； reaching out to lay his steady hand on Gentle's shoulder。
〃I think you should see the Pivot； brother Gentle；〃 he said。 〃That'll remind you of what power feels like。 Are you steady on your feet？〃 〃Reasonably。〃 〃e on； then。〃
He led the way back into the passage； to the flight of stairs Gentle had declined to take。 Now he did so； following Sartori around the curve of the staircase to a door without a handle。
〃The only eyes laid on the Pivot since the tower was built are mine；〃 he said。 〃Which has made it very sensitive to scrutiny。〃
〃My eyes are yours；'1 Gentle reminded him。 〃It'll know the difference；〃 Sartori replied。 〃It'll want to 。 。 。 probe you。〃 The sexual subtext of this wasn't lost on him。 〃You'll just have to He back and think of England；〃 he said。 〃It's over quickly。〃
So saying he licked his thumb and laid it on the rectangle of slate…colored stone set in the middle of the door； inscribing a figure in spittle upon it。 The door responded to the signal。 Its locks began to grind into motion。
〃Spit too； huh？〃 Gentle said。 〃I thought it was just breath。〃
〃You use pneuma？〃 Sartori said。 〃Then I should be able to。 But I haven't got the trick of it。 You'll have to teach me； and I'll。。。 remind you of a few sways in return。〃 〃I don't understand the mechanics of it。〃 〃Then we'll learn together；〃 Sartori replied。 〃The principles are simple enough。 Matter and mind； mind and matter。 Each transforming the other。 Maybe that's what we're going to do。 Transform one another。〃
With that thought； Sartori put his palm on the door and pushed it open。 Though it was fully six inches thick it moved without a sound； and with an extended hand Sartori invited Gentle to enter； speaking as he did so。
〃It's said that Hapexamendios set the Pivot in the middle of the Imajica so that His fertility would flow from it into every Dominion。〃 He lowered his voice； as if for an indiscretion。 〃In other words；〃 he said。 〃This is the phallus of the Unbeheld。〃
Gentle had seen this tower from the outside； of course； it soared above every other pylon and dome in the palace。 But he hadn't grasped its enormity until now。 It was a square stone tower； seventy or eighty feet from side to side and so tall that the lights blazing in the walls to illuminate its sole occupant receded like cat's e
