cb.imajica2-第102节

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　Luckily；　Tick　had　brought　distractions；　in　the　form　of　a　party　of　eight　tourists　（he　preferred　excursionists）　from　Vanaeph　who　were　relying　upon　him　to　introduce　them　to　the　rites　and　rarities　of　the　Fifth　Dominion。　Before　the　tour　began；　however；　they　were　eager　to　pay　their　respects　to　the　great　Reconciler；　and　did　so　with　a　succession　of　painfully　overworked　speeches；　which　they　read　aloud　before　presenting　Gentle　with　the　gifts　they'd　brought：　smoked　meats；　perfumes；　a　small　picture　of　Patashoqua　rendered　in　zarzi　wings；　a　pamphlet　of　erotic　poems　by　Pluthero　Quexos'　sister。
　The　group　was　the　first　of　many　Tick　brought　in　the　next　few　weeks；　freely　admitting　to　Gentle　that　he　was　turning　a　handsome　profit　from　his　new　role。　〃Have　a　Holy　Day　in　the　City　of　Sartori〃　was　his　pitch^　and　the　more　satisfied　customers　who　returned　to　Vanaeph　with　tales　of　eel　pies　and　Jack　the　Ripper；　the　more　who　signed　on　to　take　the　excursion。　He　knew　the　boom　time　couldn't　last；　of　course。　In　a　short　while　the　professional　tour　operators　in　Patashoqua　would　start　trading；　and　he'd　be　unable　to　pete　with　their　slick　packages；　except　in　one　particular　regard。　Only　he　could　guarantee　an　audience；　however　brief；　with　the　Maestro　Sartori　himself。
　The　time　was　ing；　Gentle　realized；　when　the　Fifth　would　have　to　face　the　fact　that　it　was　Reconciled；　whether　it　liked　it　or　not。　The　first　few　sightseers　from　Vanaeph　and　Patashoqua　might　be　ignored；　but　when　their　families　came；　and　their　families'　families…creatures　in　shapes；　size；　and　assemblies　that　demanded　attention…the　people　of　this　Dominion　would　be　able　to　overlook　them　no　longer。　It　would　not　be　long　before　Gamut　Street　became　a　sacred　highway；　with　travelers　passing　down　it　in　not　one　but　both　directions。　When　it　did；　living　in　the　house　would　bee　untenable。　He；　Clem；　and　Monday　would　have　to　vacate　number　28　and　leave　it　to　bee　a　shrine。
　When　that　day　arrived…and　it　Would　be　soon…he　would　be　forced　to　make　a　momentous　decision。　Should　he　seek　out　some　sanctuary　here　in　Britain　or　leave　the　island　for　a　country　where　none　of　his　lives　had　ever；　taken　him？　Of　one　thing　he　was　certain：　he　would　not　return　to　the　Fourth；　or　any　Dominion　beyond　it。　Though　it　was　true　that　he'd　never　seen　Patashoqua；　there　had　only　ever　been　one　soul　he'd　wanted　to　see　it　with；　and　that　soul　was　gone。
　
　Times　were　no　less　strange　or　demanding　for　Jude。　She'd　decided　to　leave　the　pany　in　Gamut　Street　on　the　spur　of　the　moment；　expecting　that　she'd　return　there　in　due　course。　But　the　longer　she　stayed　away；　the　harder　it　became　to　return。　She　hadn't　realized；　until　Sartori　was　gone；　how　much　she'd　mourn。　Whatever　the　source　of　the　feelings　she　had　for　him；　she　felt　no　regrets。　All　she　felt　was　loss。　Night　after　night　she'd　wake　up　in　the　little　flat　she　and　Hoi…Polloi　had　rented　together　（the　old　place　was　too　full　of　memories）；　shaken　to　tears　by　the　same　terrible　dream。　She　was　climbing　those　damn　stairs　in　Gamut　Street；　trying　to　reach　Sartori　as　he　lay　burning　at　the　top；　but　for　all　her　toil　never　managing　to　advance　a　single　step。　And　always　the　same　words　on　her　lips　when　Hoi…Polloi　woke　her。
　〃Stay　with　me。　Stay　with　me。〃
　Though　he'd　gone　forever；　and　she　would　have　to　make　her　peace　with　that　eventually；　he'd　left　a　living　keepsake；　and　as　the　autumn　months　came　it　began　to　make　its　presence　felt　in　no　uncertain　fashion；　its　kicking　keeping　her　awake　when　the　nightmares　didn't。　She　didn't　like　the　way　she　looked　in　the　mirror；　her　stomach　a　glossy　dome；　her　breasts　swelling　and　tender；　but　Hoi…Polloi　was　there　to　lend　fort　and　panionship　whenever　it　was　needed。　She　was　all　Jude　could　have　asked　for　during　those　months：　loyal；　practical；　and　eager　to　learn。　Though　the　customs　of　the　Fifth　were　a　mystery　to　her　at　first；　she　soon　became　familiar　with　its　eccentricities　and　even　fond　of　them。　This　was　not；　however；　a　situation　that　could　continue　indefinitely。　If　they　stayed　in　the　Fifth；　and　Jude　had　the　child　there；　what　could　she　promise　it？　A　rearing　and　an　education　in　a　Dominion　that　might　e　to　appreciate　the　miracles　in　its　midst　some　distant　day；　but　would　in　the　meantime　ignore　or　reject　whatever　extraordinary　qualities　the　child　was　blessed　with。
　By　the　middle　of　October　she'd　made　up　her　mind。　She'd　leave　the　Fifth；　with　or　without　Hoi…Polloi；　and　find　some　country　in　the　Imajica　where　the　child；　whether　it　was　a　prophetic；　a　melancholic；　or　simply　priapic；　would　be　allowed　to　flourish。　In　order　to　take　that　journey；　of　course；　she　would　have　to　return　to　Gamut　Street　or　its　environs；　and　though　that　was　not　a　particularly　attractive　prospect；　it　was　better　to　do　so　soon；　she　reasoned；　before　many　more　sleepless　nights　took　their　toll　and　she　felt　too　weak。　She　shared　her　plans　with　Hoi…Polloi；　who　declared　herself　happy　to　go　wherever　Jude　wished　to　lead。　They　made　swift　preparations　and　four　days　later　left　the　flat　for　the　last　time；　with　a　small　collection　of　valuables　to　pawn　when　they　got　to　the　Fourth。
　The　evening　was　cold；　and　the　moon；　when　it　rose；　had　a　misty　halo。　By　its　light　the　thoroughfares　around　Gamut　Street　were　iridescent　with　the　first　etchings　of　frost。　At　Jude's　request　they　went　first　to　Shiverick　Square；　so　that　she　could　pay　her　last　respects　to　Sartori。　Both　his　grave　and　those　of　the　Oviates　had　been　well　disguised　by　Monday　and　Clem；　and　it　took　her　quite　a　while　to　find　the　place　where　he　was　buried。　But　find　it　she　did　and　spent　twenty　minutes　there　while　Hoi…Polloi　waited　at　the　railings。　Though　there　were　revenants　in　the　nearby　streets；　she　knew　he　would　never　join　their　ranks。　He'd　not　been　born；　but　made；　the　stuff　of　his　life　stolen。　The　only　existence　he　had　after　his　decease　was　in　her　memory　and　in　the　child。　She　didn't　weep　for　that　fact；　or　even　for　his　absence。　She'd　done　all　she　could；　weeping　and　begging　him　to　stay。　But　she　did　tell　the　earth　that　she'd　loved　what　it　was　heaped　upon　and　charged　it　to　give　Sartori　fort　in　his　dreamless　sleep。
　Then　she　quit　the　graveside；　and　together　she　and　Hoi…Polloi　went　looking　for　the　passing　place　into　the　Fourth。　It　would　be　day　there；　bright　day；　and　she'd　call　herself　by　another　name。
　Number　28　was　noisy　that　night；　the　cause　a　celebration　in　honor　of　Irish；　who'd　that　afternoon　been　released　from　prison；　having　served　a　three…month　sentence　for　petty　theft；　and　had　arrived　on　the　doorstep…with　Carol；　Benedict；　and　several　cases　of　stolen　whisky…to　toast　his　release。　The　house　was　by　now　a　trove　of　treasures…all　gifts　to　the　Maestro　from　Tick　Raw's　excursionists…and　there　was　no　end　to　the　drunken　fooling　these　artifacts；　many　of　them　total　enigmas；　inspired。　Gentle　was　feeling　as　facetious　as　Irish；　if　not　more　so。　After　so　many　weeks　of　abstinence　the　substantial　amounts　of　whisky　he'd　imbibed　had　his　head　spinning；　and　he　resisted　Clem's　attempts　to　engage　him　in　serious　conversation；　despite　the　latter's　insistence　that　the　matter　was　urgent。　Only　after　some　persuading　did　he　follow　Clem　to　a　quieter　place　in　the　house；　where　his　angels　told　him　that　Judith　was　in　the　vicinity。　He　was　somewhat　sobered　by　the　news。
　〃Is　she　ing　here？〃　he　asked。
　〃I　don't　think　so；〃　Clem　said；　his　tongue　passing　back　and　forth　over　his　lips　as　though　her　taste　was　upon　them。　〃But　she's　close。〃
　Gentle　didn't　need　further　prompting。　With　Monday　in　tow　he　went　out　into　the　street。　There　were　no　living　creatures　in　sight。　Only　the　revenants；　listless　as　ever；　their　joy…lessness　made　all　the　more　apparent　by　the　sound　of　merrymaking　that　emanated　from　the　house。
　〃I　don't　see　her；〃　Gentle　said　to　Clem；　who　had　followed　them　out　as　far　as　the　step。　〃Are　you　sure　she's　here？〃
　It　was　Tay　who　replied。　〃You　think　I　wouldn't　know　when　Judy　was　near？　Of　course　I'm　certain。〃
　〃Which　direction？〃　Monday　wanted　to　know。
　Now　Clem　again；　cautioning；　〃Perhaps　she　doesn't　want　to　see　us。〃
　〃Well；　I　want　to　see　her；〃　Gentle　replied。　〃At　least　a　drink；　for　old　time's　sake。　Which　direction；　Tay？〃
　The　angels　pointed；　and　Gentle　headed　off　down　the　street；　with　Monday；　bottle　in　hand；　close　on　his　heels。
　The　fog　that　let　onto　the　Fourth　looked　inviting：　a　slow　wave　of　pale　mist　that　turned　and　turned　on　itself；　but　never　broke。　Before　she　and　Hoi…Polloi　stepped　into　it；　Jude　took　a　few　moments　to　look　up。　The　Plow　was　overhead。　She　wouldn't　be　seeing　it　again。　Then　she　said；　〃That's　enough　goodbyes；〃　and　together　they　took　a　step　into　the　mist。
　As　they　did　so　Jude　heard　the　sound　of　running　feet　in　the　alleyway　behind　them　and　Gentle；　calling　her　name。　She'd　been　aware　that　their　presence　might　be　detected　and　had　schooled　them　both　in　how　best　to　respond。　Neither　woman　turned。　They　simply　picked　up　their　pace　and　headed　on　through　the　mist。　It　thickened　as　they　went；　but　after　a　dozen　steps　daylight　began　to　filter　through　from　the　other　side；　and　the　fog's　clammy　cold　gave　way　to　balm。　Again；　Gentle　called　after　her；　but　there　was　a　motion　up　ahead；　and　it　all　but　drowned　out　his　call。
　Back　in　the　Fifth；　Gentle　came　to　a　halt　at　the　edge　of　the　fog。　He'd　sworn　to　himself　that　he'd　never　leave　the　Dominion　again；　but　the　drink　swilling　in　his　system　had　weakened　his　resolve。　His　feet　itched　to　go　af