iancaldwell&dustinthomason.theruleoffour-第31部分

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　challenge。　For　better　or　worse；　he　had　entered　my　father's　world。
　What　followed　was　a　period　of　soaring　confidence。　Armed　with　four　languages　（the　fifth；　English；　being　useless　except　for　secondary　sources）　and　with　an　extensive　knowledge　of　Colonna's　life　and　times；　Paul　leapt　into　the　text。　He　gave　more　and　more　of　each　day　to　the　project；　taking　a　stance　toward　the　Hypnerotomachia　that　I　found　unfortably　familiar：　the　pages　were　a　battleground　where　he　and　Colonna　would　match　wits；　winner　take　all。　Vincent　Taft's　influence；　dormant　in　the　months　before　his　trip；　had　returned。　As　Paul's　interest　slowly　took　the　color　of　obsession；　Taft　and　Stein　became　increasingly　prominent　in　his　life。　If　it　hadn't　been　for　the　intervention　of　one　man；　I　think　we　might've　lost　Paul　to　them　entirely。
　That　man　was　Francesco　Colonna；　and　his　book　was　hardly　the　pushover　Paul　had　hoped。　Though　Paul　flexed　his　mental　muscle；　he　found　that　the　mountain　wouldn't　move。　As　his　progress　slowed；　and　the　fall　of　junior　year　darkened　into　winter；　Paul　became　irritable；　quick　with　sharp　ments　and　rude　mannerisms　he　could　only　have　learned　from　Taft。　At　Ivy；　Gil　told　me；　members　began　to　joke　about　Paul　when　he　sat　alone　at　the　dinner　table；　surrounded　by　stacks　of　books；　talking　to　no　one。　The　more　I　watched　his　confidence　dwindle；　the　more　I　understood　something　my　father　had　said　once：　the　Hypnerotomachia　is　a　siren；　a　fetching　song　on　a　distant　shore；　all　claws　and　clutches　in　person。　You　court　her　at　your　risk。
　And　so　it　went。　Spring　came；　coeds　in　tank　tops　tossed　Frisbees　beneath　his　window；　squirrels　and　blossoms　stooped　the　tree　branches；　tennis　balls　echoed　in　play；　and　still　Paul　sat　in　his　room；　alone；　shade　drawn；　door　locked；　with　a　message　on　his　whiteboard　saying　DO　NOT　DISTURB。　All　that　I　loved　about　the　new　season；　he　called　a　distraction…the　smells　and　sounds；　the　sense　of　impatience　after　a　long　and　bookish　winter。　I　knew　that　I　myself　was　being　a　distraction　to　him。　Everything　he　told　me　started　to　sound　like　the　weather　report　from　a　foreign　land。　I　visited　him　little。
　It　took　a　summer　alone　to　change　him。　In　early　September　of　senior　year；　after　three　months　on　an　empty　campus；　he　weled　us　all　back　and　helped　us　move　in。　He　was　suddenly　open　to　interruptions；　eager　to　spend　time　among　friends；　less　fixated　on　the　past。　In　the　opening　months　of　that　semester；　he　and　I　enjoyed　a　renaissance　in　our　friendship　better　than　anything　I　could've　expected。　He　shrugged　off　the　onlookers　at　Ivy　who　hung　on　his　words；　waiting　for　something　outrageous；　he　spent　less　time　with　Taft　and　Stein；　he　savored　meals　and　enjoyed　walks　between　classes。　He　could　even　see　the　humor　in　the　way　garbage　men　emptied　the　Dumpster　beneath　our　window　each　Tuesday　morning　at　seven　o'clock。　I　thought　he　was　better。　More　than　that：　I　thought　he　was　reborn。
　It　was　only　when　Paul　came　to　me　in　October　of　senior　year；　late　one　night　after　our　last　fall　midterms；　that　I　understood　the　other　thing　our　theses　had　in　mon：　both　of　our　subjects　were　dead　things　that　refused　to　stay　buried。
　〃Is　there　anything　that　could　change　your　mind　about　working　on　the　Hypnerotomachia？〃　Paul　asked　me　that　night…and　from　his　tense　expression；　I　knew　he'd　found　something　important。
　〃No；〃　I　told　him；　half　because　I　meant　it；　but　half　to　get　him　to　tip　his　hand。
　〃I　think　I　made　a　breakthrough　over　the　summer。　But　I　need　your　help　to　understand　it。〃
　〃Tell　me；〃　I　said。
　And　however　it　began　for　my　father；　whatever　galvanized　his　curiosity　in　the　Hypnerotomachia；　this　was　how　it　started　for　me。　What　Paul　said　that　night　gave　Colonna's　long…dead　book　new　life。
　　
　〃Vincent　introduced　me　to　Steven　Gelbman　from　Brown　last　year　when　he　saw　I　was　getting　frustrated；〃　Paul　began。　〃Gelbman　does　research　with　math；　cryptography；　and　religion；　all　in　one。　He's　an　expert　at　the　mathematical　analysis　of　the　Torah。　Have　you　heard　of　this　stuff？〃
　〃Sounds　like　kabala。〃
　〃Exactly。　You　don't　just　study　what　the　scriptural　words　say；　you　study　what　the　numbers　say。　Every　letter　in　the　Hebrew　alphabet　has　a　number　assigned　to　it。　Using　the　order　of　the　letters；　you　can　look　for　mathematical　patterns。
　〃Well；　I　was　doubtful　at　the　beginning。　Even　after　sitting　through　ten　hours　of　lectures　on　the　Sephirothic　correspondences；　I　didn't　buy　it。　It　just　didn't　seem　to　relate　to　Colonna。　But　by　the　summer　I'd　finished　the　secondary　sources　on　the　Hypnerotomachia；　and　I　started　working　on　the　book　itself。　It　was　impossible。　I　would　try　to　force　an　interpretation　onto　it；　and　it　would　throw　everything　back　in　my　face。　As　soon　as　I　thought　a　few　pages　were　moving　in　one　direction；　using　a　certain　structure；　making　a　certain　point；　suddenly　the　sentence　would　end；　and　in　the　next　one　everything　would　change。
　〃I　spent　five　weeks　just　trying　to　understand　the　first　labyrinth　Francesco　describes。　I　studied　Vitruvius　to　understand　the　architectural　terms。　I　looked　up　every　ancient　labyrinth　I　knew…the　Egyptian　one　at　the　City　of　Crocodiles；　the　ones　at　Lemnos　and　Clusium　and　Crete；　half　a　dozen　others。　Then　I　realized　there　were　four　different　labyrinths　in　the　Hypnerotomachia…one　in　a　temple；　one　in　the　water；　one　in　a　garden；　and　one　underground。　As　soon　as　I　thought　I　was　beginning　to　understand　one　level　of　plexity；　it　quadrupled。　Poliphilo　even　gets　lost　at　the　beginning　of　the　book　and　says；　My　only　recourse　was　to　beg　the　pity　of　Cretan　Ariadne；　who　gave　the　thread　to　Theseus　to　escape　from　the　difficult　labyrinth。　It's　like　the　book　understood　what　it　was　doing　to　me。
　〃Finally　I　realized　the　only　thing　I　knew　that　definitely　worked　was　the　acrostic　with　the　first　letter　of　every　chapter。　So　I　did　what　the　book　told　me　to　do。　I　begged　the　pity　of　Cretan　Ariadne；　the　one　person　who　might　be　able　to　solve　the　maze。〃
　〃You　went　back　to　Gelbman。〃
　He　nodded。　〃I　ate　crow。　I　was　desperate。　In　July；　Gelbman　let　me　stay　with　him　in　Providence　after　Vincent　insisted　I　was　making　progress　with　the　method。　He　spent　the　weekend　showing　me　more　sophisticated　decoding　techniques；　and　that's　when　things　started　to　pick　up。〃
　I　remember　looking　out　the　window　beyond　Paul's　shoulder　as　he　spoke；　sensing　that　the　landscape　was　changing。　We　were　sitting　in　our　bedroom　in　Dod；　alone　on　a　Friday　night；　Charlie　and　Gil　were　somewhere　below　our　feet；　playing　paintball　in　the　steam　tunnels　with　a　group　of　friends　from　Ivy　and　the　EMT　squad。　The　following　day　I　would　have　a　paper　to　work　on；　a　test　to　study　for。　A　week　later　I　would　meet　Katie　for　the　first　time。　But　for　that　moment；　Paul's　hold　on　my　attention　was　plete。
　〃The　most　plicated　concept　he　taught　me；〃　he　continued；　〃was　how　to　decode　a　book　based　on　algorithms　or　ciphers　from　the　text　itself。　In　those　cases；　the　key　is　built　right　in。　You　solve　for　the　cipher；　like　an　equation　or　a　set　of　instructions；　then　you　use　the　cipher　to　unlock　the　text。　The　book　actually　interprets　itself。〃
　I　smiled。　〃Sounds　like　an　idea　that　could　bankrupt　the　English　department。〃
　〃I　was　skeptical　too；〃　Paul　said。　〃But　it　turns　out　there's　a　long　tradition　of　it。　Intellectuals　during　the　Enlightenment　used　to　write　entire　tracts　like　that　as　a　game。　The　texts　looked　like　regular　stories；　epistolary　novels；　that　kind　of　thing。　But　if　you　knew　the　right　techniques…maybe　catching　typos　that　turned　out　to　be　intentional；　or　solving　puzzles　in　the　illustrations…you　could　find　the　key。　Something　like　'Use　only　primes　and　perfect　squares；　and　letters　every　tenth　word　shares；　exclude　the　words　of　Lord　Kinkaid；　and　any　questions　from　the　maid。'　You　would　follow　the　directions；　and　there　would　be　a　message　at　the　end。　Most　of　the　time　it　was　a　limerick　or　a　dirty　joke。　But　one　of　these　guys　actually　wrote　his　will　like　that。　Whoever　could　decipher　it　would　inherit　his　estate。〃
　Paul　pulled　a　single　sheet　of　paper　from　between　the　pages　of　a　book。　On　it　was　written；　in　two　distinct　blocks；　the　text　of　a　passage　written　in　code；　and　below　it　the　shorter　decoded　message。　How　one　became　the　other；　I　couldn't　see。
　〃After　a　while；　I　started　thinking　it　could　work。　Maybe　the　acrostic　with　the　Hypnerotomachia's　chapter　letters　was　just　a　hint。　Maybe　it　was　there　to