uplift4.brightnessreef-第15部分

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　Galactic　Two　or　any　other　language　anyone's　ever　grokked；　but　they　can　memorize　and　repeat　any　short　mirror…flash　signal　they　happen　to　pick　up　with　their　sharp　eyes。　They　can　even　tell　from　the　opener…tag　who　a　message　is　for。　It's　a　gloss　talent　that'd　be　awfully　useful…if　only　they　did　it　reliably；　instead　of　just　when　they　felt　like　it。
　　Huphu　sure　must've　felt　like　it；　'cause　next　thing　you　know　she's　yelping　the　upper　denotation　train　of　a　GalTwo　memorandum。　（I　figure　an　old　Morse　code　telegraph　operator　like　Mark　Twain　could've　managed　GalTwo；　if　he　tried。）
　　As　I　said　before；　the　message　was　from　our　urrish　pal；　Ur…ronn；　and　it　said…WINDOW　FINISHED。　E　QUICK。　OTHER　VERY　WEIRD　STUFF　HAPPENING！
　　I　put　an　exclamation　point　at　the　end　'cause　that's　how　Huphu　finished　reciting　the　bulletin　she'd　seen　flash　down　from　Mount　Guenn；　terminating　her　report　with　a　bark　of　ecstatic　excitement。　I'm　sure　the　phrase　〃weird　stuff〃　was　what　had　her　bounding　in　circles；　biting　at　her　shadow。
　　〃I'll　get　my　water　bag；〃　Pincer…Tip　said　after　a　short　pause。
　　〃I'll　fetch　my　goggles；〃　Huck　added。
　　〃I'll　grab　my　cloak　and　meet　you　at　the　tram；〃　I　finished。　There　was　no　need　for　discussion。　Not　after　an　invitation　like　that。
　　
　　IV。　THE　BOOK　OF　THE　SLOPE
　　Legends
　　There　is　a　fable　told　by　the　g'Kek；　one　of　the　oldest　handed　down　since　their　sneakship　came　to　Jijo；　passed　on　orally　for　almost　two　thousand　years；　until　it　was　finally　recorded　on　paper。
　　The　saga　tells　of　a　youth　whose　〃thread　skating〃　prowess　was　renowned　in　one　of　the　orbital　cities　where　g'Keks　dwelled；　arter　losing　their　homeworld　on　a　wager。
　　In　this　particular　city；　unhampered　by　the　drag　of　solid　ground；　young　wheel…lords　of　a　space…born　generation　fashioned　a　new　game…skimming　with　flashing　rims　along　the　thinnest　or　colored　strands…cables　that　they　strung　at　angles　throughout　the　vast　inner　cavity　of　their　artificial　world。　One　skater；　the　tale　says；　used　to　take　on　dare　after　dare；　relishing　risk；　hopping　among　gossamer　strands　and　sometimes　even　flying　free；　wheels　spinning　madly　before　catching　the　next　cord；　swooping　in　ecstatic　abandon。
　　Then；　one　day；　a　defeated　opponent　taunted　the　young　champion。
　　I'll　bet　you　can't　skim　close　enough　to　wrap　a　thread　round　the　sun！
　　Today's　Jijoan　scholars　find　this　part　of　the　tale　confusing。　How　could　a　sun　be　within　reach；　inside　a　hollow；　spinning　rock？　With　much　of　our　Space　Technologies　section　destroyed；　the　Biblos　Scholarium　is　ill…equipped　to　interpret　such　clues。　Our　best　guess　is　that　the　story　became　garbled　over　time；　along　with　most　other　memories　of　a　godlike　past。
　　The　technical　details　do　not　matter　as　much　as　the　moral　of　the　tale…the　imprudence　of　messing　with　forces　beyond　your　prehension。　A　fool　doing　so　can　get　burned；　like　the　skater　in　the　tale；　whose　dramatic　end　ignited　a　storm　of　slender；　blazing　trails；　crisscrossing　the　doomed　city's　suddenly　fiery　inner　sky。
　　…Collected　Fables　of　Jijo's　Seven；
　　Third　Edition。　Department　of　Folklore
　　and　Language；　Biblos；　Year　1867　of　Exile。
　　　
　　Dwer
　　SINCE　FINISHING　HIS　APPRENTICESHIP；　DWER　HAD　visited　nearly　every　village　and　farm　in　Jijo's　settled　zone；　including　the　islands　and　one　or　two　secret　places　he　was　sworn　never　to　speak　of。　He　had　met　a　great　many　settlers　from　every　race；　including　most　of　the　Slope's　human　population。
　　He　grew　more　certain　with　each　passing　dura　that　the　new　prisoner　wasn't　one　of　them。
　　Surprise　flustered　Dwer。　Irrational　guilt　made　him　doubly　angry。
　　〃Of　all　the　stupid　things　to　do；〃　he　told　the　girl　rubbing　her　head　by　the　cold　campfire；　〃stealing　my　bow　ranks　pretty　high。　But　pulling　a　knife　tops　all！　How　was　I　to　know　you　were　just　a　kid；　up　there　in　the　dark？　I　might've　broke　your　neck　in　self…defense！〃
　　It　was　the　first　time　either　of　them　had　spoken　since　her　skull　smacked　the　ground；　leaving　her　body　limp　to　be　slung　over　a　shoulder　and　lugged　back　to　camp。　Never　quite　losing　consciousness；　the　strange　youth　had　recovered　most　of　her　wits　by　the　time　he　sat　her　down　near　the　coals。　Now　she　kneaded　her　bruised　head；　watched　by　the　glaver　and　the　noor。
　　〃I。。。　thought　you　was。。。　a　ligger；〃　she　stammered　at　last。
　　〃You　stole　my　bow；　ran　away；　then　thought　you　were　being　chased　by　a　ligger？〃
　　This　much　could　be　said　in　her　favor…she　was　a　lousy　liar。　By　dawn's　light；　her　small　frame　sat　bundled　in　garments　of　poorly　tanned　leather；　stitched　with　sinew。　Her　hair；　tied　in　a　chopped…off　ponytail；　was　a　wavy　reddish　brown。　Of　her　face…what　could　be　made　out　under　smudges…the　stand…out　features　were　a　nose　that　had　once　been　broken　and　a　nasty　burn　scar　along　her　left　cheek；　marring　a　face　that　might　otherwise　have　been　pretty；　after　a　good　scrubbing。
　　〃What's　your　name？〃
　　She　lowered　her　chin　and　muttered　something。
　　〃What　was　that？　I　couldn't　hear。〃
　　〃I　said；　it's　Rety！〃　She　met　his　eyes　for　the　first　time；　her　voice　now　edged　with　defiance。　〃What're　you　gonna　do　with　me？〃
　　A　reasonable　question；　under　the　circumstances。　Rubbing　his　chin；　Dwer　couldn't　see　where　he　had　much　choice。　〃Guess　I'll　take　you　to　Gathering。　Most　of　the　sages　are　there。　If　you're　old　enough；　you've　got　a　grievance　to　answer；　or　else　your　parents　will　be　fetched。　By　the　way；　who　are　they？　Where　do　you　live？〃
　　The　glowering　silence　returned。　Finally；　she　muttered…〃I'm　thirsty。〃
　　Both　the　glaver　and　the　noor　had　taken　turns　nuzzling　the　empty　canteen；　then　scolding　him　with　their　eyes。　What　am　I？　Dwer　thought。　Everybody's　daddy？
　　He　sighed。　〃All　right；　let's　head　for　water。　Rety；　you　go　stand　over　by　the　glaver。〃
　　Her　eyes　widened。　〃Does…　does　it　bite？〃
　　Dwer　gaped　back　at　her。　〃It's　a　glaver；　for　Ifni's　sake！〃　He　took　her　by　the　hand。　〃You'd　have　reason　to　fear　it　if　you　were　a　grubworm；　or　a　pile　of　garbage。　Though　now　that　I　mention　it…〃
　　She　yanked　back　her　hand；　glaring。
　　〃Okay；　sorry。　Anyway；　you're　going　to　lead；　so's　I　can　keep　an　eye　on　you。　And　this　will　make　sure　you　don't　scoot　off。〃　He　tied　the　free　end　of　the　glaver's　tether　to　her　belt；　in　back　where　she　could　only　reach　it　with　difficulty。　Dwer　then　hoisted　his　pack　and　the　bow。　〃Hear　the　waterfall？　We'll　take　a　break　for　jerky　when　we　get　there。〃
　　It　was　a　strange　trek…the　sullen　leading　the　apathetic；　followed　by　the　confused；　all　tailed　by　the　inveterately　amused。　Whenever　Dwer　glanced　back；　Mudfoot's　leering　grin　seemed　only　a　little　strained　as　the　noor　panted　in　the　bone…dry　morning　air。
　　Some　folks　barred　their　doors　when　they　heard　a　noor　was　nearby。　Others　put　out　treats；　hoping　to　entice　a　change　in　luck。　Dwer　sometimes　saw　wild　ones　in　the　marshes；　where　flame　trees　flourished　on　the　forested　backs　of　drifting　acre…lilies。　But　his　strongest　memories　were　from　his　father's　mill；　where　young　noor　came　each　spring　to　perform　reckless；　sometimes　fatal　dives　from　the　ponderously　turning　power　wheel。　As　a　child；　Dwer　often　scampered　alongside；　taking　the　same　exhilarating　risks；　much　to　his　parents'　distress。　He　even　tried　to　bond　closer　to　those　childhood　playmates；　bribing　them　with　food；　teaching　them　tricks；　seeking　a　link　like　Man　once　had　with　his　helpmate…dog。
　　Alas；　noor　were　not　dogs。　In　time；　as　his　life…path　took　him　farther　from　the　gentle　river；　Dwer　came　to　realize　noor　were　clever；　brave…and　also　quite　dangerous。　Silently；　he　warned　Mudfoot；　Just　because　you　weren't　the　thief；　don't　think　that　makes　me　trust　you　one　bit。
　　A　steep　trail　looks　and　feels　different　going　down　than　heading　up。　At　times；　this　one　seemed　so　wild　and　untamed；　Dwer　could　squint　and　imagine　he　was　on　a　real　frontier；　untouched　by　sapient　hands　since　the　world　was　new。　Then　they'd　pass　some　decayed　Buyur　remnant…a　cement…aggregate　wall；　or　a　stretch　of　rubbery　pavement　missed　by　the　roving　deconstructors　when　Jijo　was　laid　fallow…and　the　illusion　vanished。　Demolition　was　never　perfect。　Countless　Buyur　traces　were　visible　west　of　the　Rimmers。
　　Time　was　the　true　recycler。　Poor　Jijo　had　been　assigned　enough　to　restore　her　eco…web；　or　so　said　his　brother；　Lark。　But　Dwer　rarely　thought　on　such　a　grand　scale。　It　robbed　magic　from　the　Jijo　of