uplift4.brightnessreef-第31章

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　　Sara　recalled　being　taught　piano　by　her　mother；　from　music　that　was　actually　written　down；　now　a　nearly　forgotten　art。　Jijoan　sextets　weaved　their　impromptu　harmonies　out　of　separate　threads；　merging　and　diverging　through　one　congenial　coincidence　after　another。　Human　music　used　to　work　that　way　in　most　pre…Contact　cultures；　before　the　Euro…West　hit　on　symphonies　and　other　more　rigorous　forms。　Or　so　Sara　had　read。
　　Overing　shyness；　Jomah　started　rattling　his　spoons　as　Blade　puffed　a　calliope　of　breathy　notes。　The　hoonish　helmsman　inflated　his　air　sac　to　answer　the　mirliton's　rumble；　singing　an　improvisation；　without　words　in　any　known　language。
　　Then　Fakoon　wheeled　forward；　arms　swaying　delicately；　reminding　Sara　of　gently　rising　smoke。
　　What　had　been　exquisite；　then　humorous；　soon　took　on　a　quality　even　more　highly　prized。
　　Unity。
　　She　glanced　at　the　Stranger；　his　face　overe　with　emotion；　eyes　delighting　in　Fakoon's　opening　moves。　The　left　hand　thumped　his　blanket　happily；　beating　time。
　　You　can　tell　what　kind　of　man　he　used　to　be；　she　mused。　Even　horribly　mutilated；　in　awful　pain；　he　spends　his　waking　time　enthralled　by　good　things。
　　The　thought　seemed　to　catch　in　her　throat。　Taken　by　surprise；　Sara　turned　away；　hiding　a　choking　wave　of　sadness　that　abruptly　blurred　her　vision。
　　Tarek　Town　appeared　soon　after；　perched　between　the　merging　rivers　Roney　and　Bibur。
　　From　afar　it　seemed　no　more　than　a　greenish　knoll；　like　any　other　hill。　Grayish　shapes　studded　the　mound；　as　if　boulders　lay　strewn　over　the　slopes。　Then　the　Hauph…woa　rounded　one　last　oxbow　turn；　and　what　had　seemed　solid　from　a　distance　now　spread　open…a　huge；　nearly　hollow　erection　of　webbing；　festooned　with　greenery。　The　〃boulders〃　were　the　protruding　tips　of　massive　towers；　enmeshed　in　a　maze　of　cables；　conduits；　rope　bridges；　netting；　ramps；　and　sloping　ladders；　all　draped　under　lush；　flowing　foliage。
　　The　air　filled　with　a　humid　redolence；　the　scent　of　countless　flowers。
　　Sara　liked　to　squint　and　imagine　Tarek　in　other　days；　back　when　it　was　but　a　hamlet　to　the　mighty　Buyur；　yet　a　place　of　true　civilization；　humming　with　faithful　machines；　vibrant　with　the　footsteps　of　visitors　from　far　star　systems；　thronging　with　sky…craft　that　settled　gracefully　on　rooftop　landing　pads。　A　city　lively　with　aspirations　that　she；　a　forest　primitive；　might　never　imagine。
　　But　then；　as　the　noon　crew　poled　the　Hauph…woa　toward　a　concealed　dock；　no　amount　of　squinting　could　mask　how　far　Tarek　had　fallen。　Out　of　a　multitude　of　windows；　only　a　few　still　shone　with　million…year…old　glazing。　Others　featured　crude　chimneys；　staining　once…smooth　walls　with　the　soot　of　cook　fires。　Wide　ledges　where　floating　aircraft　once　landed　now　supported　miniature　orchards　or　coops　for　noisy　herd　chicks。　Instead　of　self…propelled　machines；　the　streets　swarmed　with　merce　carried　on　the　backs　of　tinkers　and　traders；　or　animal…drawn　carts。
　　High　up　a　nearby　tower；　some　young　g'Kek　sped　around　a　rail…less　ramp；　heedless　of　the　drop；　their　spokes　blurry　with　speed。　Urban　life　suited　the　wheeled　sept。　Rare　elsewhere；　g'Kek　made　up　the　town's　largest　group。
　　Northward；　crossing　Tarek's　link　to　the　mainland；　lay　a　〃recent〃　ruin　of　stone　blocks…the　thousand…year…old　city　wall；　erected　by　the　Gray　Queens　who　long　ruled　here；　until　a　great　siege　ended　their　reign；　back　when　the　Dolo　paper　mill　was　new。　Scorch　marks　still　smeared　the　fallen　bulwark；　testimony　to　the　violent　birth　of　the　mons…of…Six。
　　However　many　times　she　passed　through　Tarek　Town；　it　remained　a　marvel。　Jijo's　closest　thing　to　a　cosmopolitan　place；　where　all　races　mixed　as　equals。
　　Along　with　hoon…crewed　vessels；　countless　smaller　boats　skimmed　under　lacy；　arching　bridges；　rowed　by　human　trapper…traders；　bringing　hides　and　wares　to　market。　River…traeki；　with　amphibious　basal　segments；　churned　along　the　narrow　canals；　much　faster　than　their　land…bound　cousins　managed　ashore。
　　Near　the　river　confluence；　a　special　port　sheltered　two　hissing　steam…ferries；　linking　forest　freeholds　on　the　north　bank　to　southern　grasslands　where　urrish　hordes　galloped。　But　on　a　sloping　beach　nearby；　Sara　saw　some　blue　qheuens　climb　ashore；　avoiding　ferry　tolls　by　walking　across　the　river　bottom；　a　talent　useful　long　ago；　when　blue　rebels　toppled　the　Queens'　tyranny…helped　by　an　army　of　men；　traeki；　and　hoon。
　　In　all　the　tales　about　that　battle；　none　credits　the　insurgents　with　a　weapon　I　think　crucial…that　of　language。
　　It　took　some　time　for　the　Hauph…woa　to　weave　through　a　crowd　of　boats　and　tie　up　at　a　cramped　wharf。
　　The　jammed　harbor　helped　explain　the　lack　of　upstream　traffic。
　　Soon　as　the　moorings　were　tied；　Hauph…woa's　contingent　of　noor　squalled　and　blocked　the　gangways；　demanding　their　pay。　Rumbling　a　well…pleased　umble　song　of　gratitude；　the　ship's　cook　went　down　the　row　of　black…furred　creatures；　handing　out　chunks　of　hard　candy。　Each　noor　tucked　one　sourball　in　its　mouth　and　the　rest　into　a　waterproof　pouch；　then　leaped　over　the　rail　to　cavort　away　between　bumping；　swaying　hulls；　risking　death　by　narrow　margins。
　　As　usual；　the　Stranger　watched　with　a　plex　mixture　of　surprise；　delight；　and　sadness　in　his　eyes。　He　spurned　a　stretcher；　and　went　down　the　ramp　leaning　on　a　cane；　while　Pzora　puffed　with　pride；　having　delivered　a　patient　from　death's　door　to　the　expert　healers　of　Tarek　Town。　While　Prity　went　to　hail　a　rickshaw；　they　observed　the　hoonish　crew　strain　with　block　and　tackle；　lifting　crates　from　the　hold；　many　of　them　bound　from　Nelo's　paper　works　for　various　printers；　scribes；　and　scholars。　In　their　place；　stevedores　gently　lowered　ribboned　packages；　all　bound　from　Tarek　for　the　same　destination。
　　…Pottery　shards　and　slag　from　urrish　forges。
　　…Used…up　ceramic　saws　from　qheuenish　woodcarving　shops。
　　…Worn…out　printers'　type　and　broken　violin　strings。
　　…Whatever　parts　of　the　deceased　that　could　not　be　counted　on　to　rot　away；　such　as　the　bones　of　cremated　humans　and　urs；　hoonish　vertebrae；　g'Kek　axles；　and　traeki　wax　crystals。　The　glittering　dust　of　ground…up　qheuen　carapaces。
　　…And　always　lots　of　ancient　Buyur　junk…it　all　wound　up　on　dross　boats；　sent　to　the　great　Midden；　to　be　cleansed　by　water；　fire；　and　time。
　　An　urrish　rickshaw　driver　helped　them　usher　the　injured　man　onto　her　low　four…wheeled　cart；　while　Pzora　stood　behind；　holding　the　Stranger's　shoulders　with　two　tendril…hands。　〃You're　sure　you　don't　need　me　to　e　along？〃　Sara　asked；　having　second　thoughts。
　　Pzora　waved　her　gently　away。　〃It　is　a　short　distance　to　the　clinic；　is　it　not？　Have　you　not　urgent　matters　to　attend？　Have　i　not　our　own　tasks　to　perform？　All…of…you　shall　meet　all…of…us　again；　tonight。　And　our　lucky　patient　will　your　fine　selves　perceive　on　the　morrow。〃
　　The　Stranger's　dark　eyes　caught　hers；　and　he　smiled；　patting　her　hand。　There　was　no　sign　of　his　former　terror　of　the　traeki。
　　I　guess　I　was　wrong　about　his　injury。　He　does　acquire　memories。
　　Maybe　in　Tarek　we　can　find　out　who　he　is。　If　family　or　friends　can　be　brought；　they'll　help　him　more　than　I　ever　could。　That　evoked　a　pang；　but　Sara　reminded　herself　that　she　was　no　longer　a　child；　tending　a　wounded　chipwing。　What　matters　is　that　he's　well　cared　for。　Now　Pzora's　right。　I've　got　other　matters　to　attend。
　　The　anarchic　style　of　Tarek　Town　meant　there　was　no　one　〃official〃　at　the　dock　to　greet　them。　But　merchants　hurried　to　the　quay；　eager　for　their　cargoes。　Others　came　in　search　of　news。　There　were　rumors　of　horrible　events　up　north　and　east。　Of　landings　by　frost…covered　Zang　ships；　or　whole　towns　leveled　by　titanic　rays。　Gossip　told　of　a　populace　herded　toward　mass　trials；　conducted　by　insectoid　judges　from　the　Galactic　Institute　of　Migration。　One　credulous　human　even　argued　with　Jop；　insisting　the　farmer　was　mistaken；　since　everyone　knew　Dolo　Village　was　destroyed。
　　That　explains　why　no　boats　came　upstream；　Sara　thought。　From　Tarek；　the　intruder　ship　must　have　seemed　to　lay　a　streak　of　fire　right　over　Sara's　hometown。
　　Rumors　were　a　chief　stock　in　trade　of　all　harbors；　but　surely　cooler　heads　prevailed　elsewhere？
　　Prity　signaled　that　all　of　Nelo's　crates　were　signed　for；　save　the　one　she　pulled　on　a　wheeled　dolly　to　be　hand　carried　to　Engril　the　Copier。　Sara　bade　farewell　to　the　other　Dolo　emissaries；　agreeing　to　meet　them　again　tonight　and　pare　notes。
　　〃e；　Jomah；〃　she　told　Henrik's　son；　who　was　staring　at　the　bustle　and　tumult　of　city　life。　〃We'll　take　you　to　your　uncle　first。〃
　　Voices　seemed　subdued　in　the　harborside　market；　the　haggling　was　sullen；　perfunctory。　Most　buyers　and　sellers　did　not　even　wear　rewq　while　dickering　with　members　of　other　races…a　sure　sign　they　were　only　going　through　the　motions。
　　One　shopkeeper；　an　elegant　gray　qheuen　with　intricate；　gold…fleck　shell　decorations；　held　up　two　claw…hands　and　counted　nine　jagged　toe…pads；　indicating　by　a　slant　of　her　cupola　that　it　was　her　final　offer。　The　trader；　a　rustic…looking　red；　hissed　in　dismay；　gesturing　at　the　fine　salt　crystals　she　had　brought　all　the　way　from　the　distant　sea。　While　passing；　Sara　overheard　the　city　qheuen's　reply。
　　〃Quality　or　amount；　what　difference　does　it　make？　The　price；　why　should　you　or　I　care？〃
　　The　answer　shocked　Sara。　An　urbane　gray；　indifferent　over　a　mercial　transaction？　The　locals　must　be　in　a　state；　all　right。
　　As　if　we　in　Dolo　were　any　better？
　　Townsfolk　mostly　gathered　in　small　groups；　gossiping　in　dialects　of　their　own　kind。　Many　of　the　hoons　carried　iron…shod　canes…usually　a　perquisite　of　captains…while　urrish　tinkers；　herders；　and　traders　kept　close　to　their　precious　pack　beasts。　Each　urs　carried　an　ax　or　machete　sheathed　at　her　withers；　useful　tools　in　the　dry　woods　and　plains　where　they　dwelled。
　　So　why　did　the　sight　make　Sara　feel　edgy？
　　e　to　think　of　it；　many　humans　were　behaving　much　the　same；　walking　in　close　pany；　armed　with　tools　suitable　for　chopping；　digging；　hunting…or　uses　Sara　did　not　want　to　think　about。　The　g'Kek　populace　kept　to　their　apartments　and　studios。
　　I'd　better　find　out　what's　going　on；　and　soon；　Sara　thought。
　　It　was　a　relief　when　the　tense　market　zone　ended　at　the　glaring　brightness　of　the　Jumble。
　　Till　now；　they　had　walked　in　shade；　but　here　an　opening　gaped　under　the　shelter…canopy。　Once　towering　structures　lay　in　heaps；　their　neat　geometries　snapped；　splintered　and　shoved　together；　giving　the　place　its　name。　Scummy　fluid　shimmered　between　the　shattered　stones；　where　oily　bubbles　formed　and　popped；　relics　of　a　time　when　this　place　was　caustic；　poisonous；　and　ultimately　restoring。
　　Jomah　shaded　his　eyes。　〃I　don't　see　it；〃　he　plained。
　　Sara　resisted　an　impulse　to　pull　him　back　out　of　the　light。　〃See　what？〃
　　〃The　spider。　Isn't　it　s'pozed　to　be　here；　in　the　middle？〃
　　〃This　spider's　dead；　Jomah。　It　died　before　it　could　do　much　more　than　get　started。　That's　why　Tarek　Town　isn't　just　another　swamp　full　of　chewed…up　boulders；　like　we　have　east　of　Dolo。〃
　　〃I　know　that。　But　my　father　says　it's　still　here。〃
　　〃It　is；〃　she　agreed。　〃We've　been　passing　beneath　it　ever　since　the　boat　docked。　See　all　those　cables　overhead？　Even　the　ramps　and　ladders　are　woven　from　old　mule…spider　cords；　many　of　them　still　livi