uplift4.brightnessreef-第2部分

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　　But　watch；　heed　and　listen…
　　for　the　ing　of　a　path。
　　The　Scroll　of　Exile
　　　
　　Alvin's　Tale
　　ON　THE　DAY　I　GREW　UP　ENOUGH　FOR　MY　HAIR　TO　start　turning　white；　my　parents　summoned　all　the　members　of　our　thronging　cluster　to　the　family　khuta；　for　a　ceremony　giving　me　my　proper　name…Hph…wayuo。
　　I　guess　it's　all　right；　for　a　hoonish　tag。　It　rolls　out　from　my　throat　sac　easy　enough；　even　if　I　get　embarrassed　hearing　it　sometimes。　The　handle's　supposed　to　have　been　in　the　lineage　ever　since　our　sneakship　brought　the　first　hoon　to　Jijo。
　　The　sneakship　was　utterly　gloss！　Our　ancestors　may　have　been　sinners；　in　ing　to　breed　on　this　taboo　planet；　but　they　flew　a　mighty　star…cruiser；　dodging　Institute　patrols　and　dangerous　Zang　and　Izmunuti's　carbon　storms　to　get　here。　Sinners　or　not；　they　must　have　been　awfully　brave　and　skilled　to　do　all　that。
　　I've　read　everything　I　can　find　about　those　days；　even　though　it　happened　hundreds　of　years　before　there　was　paper　on　Jijo；　so　all　we　really　have　to　go　on　are　a　few　legends　about　those　hoon　pioneers；　who　dropped　from　the　sky　to　find　g'Keks；　glavers；　and　traeki　already　hiding　here　on　the　Slope。　Stories　that　tell　how　those　first　hoon　sank　their　sneakship　in　the　deep　Midden；　so　it　couldn't　be　traced；　then　settled　down　to　build　crude　wooden　rafts；　the　first　to　sail　Jijo's　rivers　and　seas　since　the　Great　Buyur　went　away。
　　Since　it　has　to　do　with　the　sneakship；　I　guess　my　given　name　can't　be　too　bad。
　　Still；　I　really　like　to　be　called　Alvin。
　　Our　teacher；　Mister　Heinz；　wants　us　upper　graders　to　start　journals；　though　some　parents　plain　paper　costs　too　much　here　at　the　southern　end　of　the　Slope。　I　don't　care。　I'm　going　to　write　about　the　adventures　me　and　my　friends　have；　both　helping　and　heckling　the　good…natured　sailors　in　the　harbor；　or　exploring　twisty　lava　tubes　up　near　Guenn　Volcano；　or　scouting　in　our　little　boat　all　the　way　to　the　long；　hatchet…shadow　of　Terminus　Rock。
　　Maybe　someday　I'll　turn　these　notes　into　a　book！
　　And　why　not？　My　Anglic　is　real　good。　Even　grumpy　old　Heinz　says　I'm　a　whiz　at　languages；　memorizing　the　town　copy　of　Roget's　by　the　time　I　was　ten。　Anyway；　now　that　Joe　Dolenz；　the　printer；　has　e　set　up　shop　in　Wuphon；　why　should　we　have　to　count　on　the　traveling　librarian's　caravan　for　new　things　to　read？　Maybe　Dolenz　would　even　let　me　set　the　type　myself！　That　is；　if　I　get　around　to　it　before　my　fingers　grow　too　big　to　fit　around　those　little　backward　letters。
　　Mu…phauwq；　my　mother；　calls　it　a　great　idea；　though　I　can　tell　she's　partly　humoring　a　childish　obsession；　and　I　wish　she　wouldn't　patronize　me　that　way。
　　My　dad；　Yowg…wayuo；　acts　all　grumpy；　puffing　his　throat　sac　and　telling　me　not　to　be　such　a　human…mimicker。　But　I'm　sure　he　likes　the　idea；　deep　down。　Doesn't　he　keep　taking　borrowed　books　on　his　long　voyages　to　the　Midden；　even　though　you're　not　supposed　to；　because　what　if　the　ship　sank　and　maybe　the　last　ancient　copy　of　Moby　Dick　went　down　with　the　crew？　Wouldn't　that　be　a　real　disaster？
　　Anyway；　didn't　he　used　to　read　to　me　almost　from　the　day　I　was　born？　Booming　all　the　great　Earthling　adventure　tales　like　Treasure　Island；　Sindbad；　and　Ultraviolet　Mars？　So　who's　he　to　call　me　a　humicker！
　　Nowadays；　Dad　says　I　should　read　the　new　hoon　writers；　those　trying　to　go　past　imitating　old…time　Earthers；　ing　up　with　literature　by　and　for　our　own　kind。
　　I　guess　maybe　there　should　be　more　books　in　languages　other　than　Anglic。　But　Galactic　Two　and　Galactic　Six　seem　so　darn　stiff　for　storytelling。　Anyhow；　I've　tried　some　of　those　writers。　Honestly。　And　I've　got　to　say　that　not　one　of　them　can　hold　a　peg　to　Mark　Twain。
　　Naturally；　Huck　agrees　with　me　about　that！
　　Huck　is　my　best　friend。　She　picked　that　name　even　though　I　kept　telling　her　it's　not　a　right　one　for　a　girl。　She　just　twists　one　eyestalk　around　another　and　says　she　doesn't　care；　and　if　I　call　her　〃Becky〃　one　more　time；　she'll　catch　my　leg…fur　in　her　spokes　and　spin　till　I　scream。
　　I　guess　it　doesn't　matter；　since　g'Keks　get　to　change　sex　after　their　training　wheels　fall　off；　and　if　she　wants　to　stay　female；　that's　her　business。　As　an　orphan；　Huck's　lived　with　the　family　next　door　ever　since　the　Big　North…side　Avalanche　wiped　out　the　weaver　clan　that　used　to　squat　in　Buyur　ruins　up　that　way。　You'd　expect　her　to　be　a　bit　strange　after　living　through　that　and　then　being　raised　by　hoons。　Anyway；　she's　a　great　friend　and　a　pretty　good　sailor；　even　if　she　is　a　g'Kek；　and　a　girl；　and　doesn't　have　legs　to　speak　of。
　　Most　times；　Pincer…Tip　also　es　on　our　adventures；　specially　when　we're　down　by　the　shore。　He　didn't　need　a　nickname　from　some　story；　since　all　red　qheuens　get　one　the　minute　they　set　five　claws　outside　the　brooding　pen。　Pincer's　no　big　reader　like　Huck　and　me；　mostly　because　few　books　can　stand　the　salt　and　dampness　where　his　clan　lives。　They're　poor；　living　off　wrigglers　they　find　in　the　mudflats　south　of　town。　Dad　says　the　qheuens　with　red　shells　used　to　be　servants　to　the　grays　and　blues；　before　their　sneakship　brought　all　three　to　hide　on　Jijo。　Even　after　that；　the　grays　kept　bossing　the　others　for　a　while；　so　Dad　says　the　reds　aren't　used　to　thinking　for　themselves。
　　Maybe　so；　but　whenever　Pincer…Tip　es　along；　he's　usually　the　one　chattering…with　all　leg…mouths　at　once…about　sea　serpents；　or　lost　Buyur　treasure；　or　other　things　he　swears　he's　seen。。。　or　else　he　heard　of　somebody　who　knows　someone　else　who　might've　seen　something；　just　over　the　horizon。　When　we　get　into　trouble；　it's　often　on　account　of　something　he　thought　up　inside　that　hard　dome　where　he　keeps　his　brain。　Sometimes　I　wish　I　had　an　imagination　a　dozenth　as　vivid　as　his。
　　I　should　include　Ur…ronn　in　the　list；　since　she　es　along　sometimes。　Ur…ronn's　almost　as　much　of　a　book　maniac　as　Huck　and　me。　Still；　she's　urrish；　and　there's　a　limit　to　how　much　of　a　humicker　any　urs　can　be；　before　planting　four　feet　and　saying　whoa。
　　They　don't　take　to　nicknames；　for　instance。
　　Once；　when　we　were　reading　a　mess　of　old　Greek　myths；　Huck　tried　calling　Ur…ronn　〃Centaur。〃　I　guess　you　could　say　an　urs　sort　of　looks　like　one　of　those　fabled　creatures…if　you'd　just　been　conked　on　the　head　by　a　brick　and　can't　see　or　think　too　well　from　the　pain。　But　Ur…ronn　disliked　the　parison　and　showed　it　by　swinging　her　long　neck　like　a　whip；　nearly　taking　off　one　of　Huck's　eyestalks　with　a　snap　of　her　three…way　mouth。
　　Huck　only　said　〃Centaur〃　just　that　once。
　　Ur…ronn　is　a　niece　of　Uriel；　who　runs　a　forge　next　to　fiery　lava　pools；　high　up　on　Mount　Guenn。　She　won　a　scholarship　to　'prentice　as　a　smith　instead　of　staying　with　the　herds　and　caravans　on　the　grassy　plain。　Too　bad　her　aunt　keeps　Ur…ronn　busy　most　of　the　time　and　won't　ever　let　her　go　off　in　the　boat　with　us；　on　account　of　urs　can't　swim。
　　Ur…ronn　used　to　read　a　lot；　back　in　that　prairie　school。　Books　we　never　heard　of　in　this　hick　corner　of　the　Slope。　She　tells　us　the　stories　she　can　recollect；　like　all　about　Crazy　Horse　and　Genghis　Khan；　and　urrish　hero…warriors　from　those　big　battles　they　had　with　the　humans；　after　Earthers　came　to　Jijo　but　before　the　mons　got　patched　together　and　they　started　the　Great　Peace。
　　It'd　be　uttergloss　if　our　gang　could　be　a　plete　Six；　like　when　Drake　and　Ur…jushen　and　their　rades　went　on　the　Big　Quest　and　were　the　very　first　to　set　eyes　on　the　Holy　Egg。　But　the　only　traeki　in　town　is　the　pharmacist；　and　that　er　is　too　old　to　make　a　new　stack　of　rings　we　could　play　with。　As　for　humans；　their　nearest　village　is　several　days　from　here。　So　I　guess　we're　stuck　being　just　a　foursome。
　　Too　bad。　Humans　are　gloss。　They　brought　books　to　Jijo　and　speak　Anglic　better　than　anybody；　except　me　and　maybe　Huck。　Also；　a　human　kid's　shaped　kind　of　like　a　small　hoon；　so　he　could　go　nearly　all　the　same　places　I　can　with　my　two　long　legs。　Ur…ronn　may　be　able　to　run　fast；　but　she　can't　go　into　water；　and　Pincer　can't　wander　too　far　from　it；　and　poor　Huck　has　to　stay　where　the　ground　is　level　enough　for　her　wheels。
　　None　of　them　can　climb　a　tree。
　　Still；　they're　my　pals。　Anyway；　there　are　things　they　can　do　that　I　can't；　so　I　guess　it　evens　out。
　　It　was　Huck　who　said　we　ought　to　plan