rz.signoftheunicorn-第3部分

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！


across　the　land。　Brand　there　in　some　sort　of　tower　…　a　small　point　of　stability　in　that　flowing　scene。　I　remembered　it；　all　right。　And　I　remembered　the　presence　coiled　about　the　base　of　that　tower。　Brilliant。　Prismatic。　Some　sort　of　watch…thing；　it　seemed　…　too　bright　for　me　to　make　out　its　outline；　to　guess　its　proper　size。　Then　it　all　just　went　away。　Instant　off。　And　there　I　was；　staring　at　the　Jack　of　Diamonds　again；　with　the　guy　across　from　me　not　knowing　whether　to　be　mad　at　my　long　distraction　or　concerned　that　I　might　be　having　some　sort　of　sick　spell。
　I　closed　up　shop　with　that　hand　and　went　home。　I　lay　stretched　out　on　my　bed；　smoking　and　thinking。　Brand　had　still　been　in　Amber　when　I　had　departed。　Later；　though；　when　I　had　asked　after　him；　no　one　had　any　idea　as　to　his　whereabouts。　He　had　been　having　one　of　his　melancholy　spells；　had　snapped　out　of　it　one　day　and　ridden　off。　And　that　was　that。　No　messages　either　…　either　way。　He　wasn't　answering；　he　wasn't　talking。
　I　tried　to　figure　every　angle。　He　was　smart；　damn　smart。　Possibly　the　best　mind　in　the　family。　He　was　in　trouble　and　he　had　called　me。　Eric　and　Gerard　were　more　the　heroic　types　and　would　probably　have　weled　the　adventure。　Caine　would　have　gone　out　of　curiosity；　I　think。　Julian；　to　look　better　than　the　rest　of　us　and　to　score　points　with　Dad。　Or；　easiest　of　all；　Brand　could　have　called　Dad　himself。　Dad　would　have　done　something　about　it。　But　he　had　called　me。　Why？
　It　occurred　to　me　then　that　maybe　one　or　more　of　the　others　had　been　responsible　for　his　circumstances。　If；　say；　Dad　was　beginning　to　favor　him。。。　Well。　You　know。　Eliminate　the　positive。　And　if　he　did　call　Dad；　he　would　look　like　a　weakling。
　So　I　suppressed　my　impulse　to　yell　for　reinforcements。　He　had　called　me；　and　it　was　quite　possible　that　I　would　be　cutting　his　throat　by　letting　anyone　back　in　Amber　in　on　the　fact　that　he　had　gotten　the　message　out。　Okay。　What　was　in　it　for　me？
　If　it　involved　the　succession　and　he　had　truly　bee　fair…haired；　I　figured　that　I　could　do　a　lot　worse　than　give　him　this　to　remember　me　by。　And　if　it　did　not。。。　There　were　all　sorts　of　other　possibilities。　Perhaps　he　had　stumbled　onto　something　going　on　back　home；　something　it　would　be　useful　to　know　about。　I　was　even　curious　as　to　the　means　he　had　employed　for　bypassing　the　Trumps。　So　it　was　curiosity；　I'd　say；　that　made　me　decide　to　go　it　alone　and　try　to　rescue　him。
　I　dusted　off　my　own　Trumps　and　tried　reaching　him　again。　As　you　might　expect；　there　was　no　response。　I　got　a　good　night's　sleep　then　and　tried　one　more　time　in　the　morning。　Again；　nothing。　Okay；　no　sense　waiting　any　longer。
　I　cleaned　up　my　blade；　ate　a　big　meal；　and　got　into　some　rugged　clothes。　I　also　picked　up　a　pair　of　dark；　polaroid　goggles。　Didn't　know　how　they　would　work　there；　but　that　warden…thing　had　been　awfully　bright　…　and　it　never　hurts　to　try　anything　extra　you　can　think　of。　For　that　matter；　I　also　took　a　gun。　I　had　a　feeling　it　would　be　worthless；　and　I　was　right。　But；　like　I　said；　you　never　know　till　you　try。
　The　only　person　I　said　good…bye　to　was　another　drummer；　because　I　stopped　to　give　him　my　set　before　I　left。　I　knew　he'd　take　good　care　of　them。
　Then　I　went　on　down　to　the　hangar；　got　the　sail　plane　ready；　went　aloft；　and　caught　a　proper　current。　It　seemed　a　neat　way　to　do　it。
　I　don't　know　whether　you've　ever　glided　through　Shadow；　but　…　No？　Well；　I　headed　out　over　the　sea　till　the　land　was　only　a　dim　line　to　the　north。　Then　I　had　the　waters　go　cobalt　beneath　me；　rear　up　and　shake　sparkly　beards。　The　wind　shifted。　I　turned。　I　raced　the　waves　shoreward　beneath　a　darkening　sky。　Texorami　was　gone　when　I　returned　to　the　rivermouth；　replaced　by　miles　of　swamp。　I　rode　the　currents　inward；　crossing　and　recrossing　the　river　at　new　twists　and　kinks　it　had　acquired。　Gone　were　the　piers；　the　trails；　the　traffic。　The　trees　were　high。
　Clouds　massed　in　the　west；　pink　and　pearl　and　yellow。　The　sun　phased　from　orange　through　red　to　yellow。　You　shake　your　head？　The　sun　was　the　price　of　the　cities；　you　see。　In　a　hurry；　I　depopulate　…　or；　rather；　go　the　elemental　route。　At　that　altitude　artifacts　would　have　been　distracting。　Shading　and　texture　bees　everything　for　me。　That's　what　I　meant　about　gliding　it　being　a　bit　different。
　So；　I　bore　to　the　west　till　the　woods　gave　way　to　surface　green；　which　quickly　faded；　dispersed；　broke　to　brown；　tan；　yellow。　Light　and　crumbly　then；　splotched。　The　price　of　that　was　a　storm。　I　rode　it　out　as　much　as　I　could；　till　the　lightnings　forked　nearby　and　I　feared　that　the　gusts　were　getting　to　be　too　much　for　the　little　glider。　I　toned　it　down　fast　then；　but　got　more　green　below　as　a　result。　Still；　I　pulled　it　out　of　the　storm　with　a　yellow　sun　firm　and　bright　at　my　back。　After　a　time；　I　got　it　to　go　desert　beneath　me　again；　stark　and　rolling。
　Then　the　sun　shrank　and　strands　of　cloud　whipped　past　its　face；　erasing　it　bit　by　bit。　That　was　the　shortcut　that　took　me　farther　from　Amber　than　I　had　been　in　a　long　while。
　No　sun　then；　but　the　light　remained；　just　as　bright　but　eerie　now；　directionless。　It　tricked　my　eyes；　it　screwed　up　perspective。　I　dropped　lower；　limiting　my　range　of　vision。　Soon　large　rocks　came　into　view；　and　I　fought　for　the　shapes　I　remembered。　Gradually；　these　occurred。
　The　buckling；　flowing　effect　was　easier　to　achieve　under　these　conditions；　but　its　production　was　physically　disconcerting。　It　made　it　even　more　difficult　to　judge　my　effectiveness　in　guiding　the　glider。　I　got　lower　than　I　thought　I　was　and　almost　collided　with　one　of　the　rocks。　Finally；　though；　the　smokes　rose　and　flames　danced　about　as　I　remembered　them　…　conforming　to　no　particular　pattern；　just　emerging　here　and　there　from　crevasses；　holes；　cave　mouths。　Colors　began　to　misbehave　as　I　recalled　from　my　brief　view。　Then　came　the　actual　motion　of　the　rocks　…　drifting；　sailing；　like　rudderless　boats　in　a　place　where　they　wring　out　rainbows。
　By　then；　the　air　currents　had　gone　crazy。　One　updraft　after　another；　like　fountains；　I　fought　them　as　best　I　could；　but　knew　I　could　not　hold　things　together　much　longer　at　that　altitude。　I　rose　a　considerable　distance；　forgetting　everything　for　a　time　while　trying　to　stabilize　the　craft。　When　I　looked　down　again；　it　was　like　viewing　a　free…form　regatta　of　black　icebergs。　The　rocks　were　racing　around；　clashing　together；　backing　off；　colliding　again；　spinning；　arcing　across　the　open　spaces；　passing　among　one　another。　Then　I　was　slammed　about；　forced　down；　forced　up　…　and　I　saw　a　strut　give　way。　I　gave　the　shadows　their　final　nudge；　then　looked　again。　The　tower　had　appeared　in　the　distance；　something　brighter　than　ice　or　aluminum　stationed　at　its　base。
　That　final　push　had　done　it。　I　realized　that　just　as　I　felt　the　winds　start　a　particularly　nasty　piece　of　business。　Then　several　cables　snapped　and　I　was　on　my　way　down　…　like　riding　a　waterfall。　I　got　the　nose　up；　brought　it　in　low　and　wild；　saw　where　we　were　headed；　and　jumped　at　the　last　moment。　The　poor　glider　was　pulverized　by　one　of　those　peripatetic　monoliths。　I　felt　worse　about　that　than　I　did　about　the　scrapes；　rips；　and　lumps　I　collected。
　Then　I　had　to　move　quickly；　because　a　hill　was　racing　toward　me。　We　both　veered；　fortunately　in　different　directions。　I　hadn't　the　faintest　notion　as　to　their　motive　force；　and　at　first　I　could　see　no　pattern　to　their　movements。　The　ground　varied　from　warm　to　extremely　hot　underfoot；　and　along　with　the　smoke　and　occasional　jets　of　flame；　nasty…smelling　gases　were　escaping　from　numerous　openings　in　the　ground。　I　hurried　toward　the　tower；　following　a　necessarily　irregular　course。
　It　took　a　long　while　to　cover　the　distance。　Just　how　long；　I　was　uncertain；　as　I　had　no　way　of　keeping　track　of　the　time。　By　then；　though；　I　was　beginning　to　notice　some　interesting　regularities。　First；　the　larger　stones　moved　at　a　greater　velocity　than　the　smaller　ones。　Second；　they　seemed　to　be　orbiting　one　another　…　cycles　within　cycles　within　cycles；　larger　about　smaller；　none　of　them　ever　still。　Perhaps　the　prime　mover　was　a　dust　mote　or　a　single　molecule　…　somewhere。　I　had　neither　time　nor　desire　to　indulge　in　any　attempt　to　determine　the　center　of　the　affair。　Keeping　this　in　mind；　I　di