cb.imajica2-第6节

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　As　it　stopped；　Jude　laid　her　palms　against　the　pavement　and；　without　looking　up　at　Quaisoir；　murmured　her　thanks；　in　part　for　her　preservation　but　at　least　as　much　for　Dowd's　dispatch。
　〃Who　was　he？〃　Quaisoir　asked。
　〃I　only　know　a　little　part　of　this；〃　Jude　replied。
　〃Little　by　little；〃　Quaisoir　said。　〃That's　how　we'll　understand　it　all。　Little。。。　by　。。。　little。〃
　Her　voice　was　exhausted；　and　when　Jude　looked　up　she　saw　the　miracle　was　leaving　Quaisoir's　cells。　She　had　sunk　to　the　ground；　her　unfurled　flesh　withdrawing　into　her　body；　the　beatific　blue　fading　from　her　skin。　Jude　picked　herself　up　and　hobbled　from　the　edge　of　the　hole。
　Hearing　her　footsteps；　Quaisoir　said；　〃Where　are　you　going？〃
　〃Just　away　from　the　well；〃　Jude　said；　laying　her　brow　and　her　palms　against　the　wele　chill　of　the　wall。　〃Do　you　know　who　I　am？〃　she　asked　Quaisoir；　after　a　little　time。
　〃Yes；〃　came　the　soft　reply。　〃You're　the　me　I　lost。　You're　the　other　Judith。〃
　〃That's　right。〃　She　turned　to　see　that　Quaisoir　was　smiling；　despite　her　pain。
　〃That's　good；〃　Quaisoir　said。　〃If　we　survive　this；　maybe　you'll　begin　again　for　both　of　us。　Maybe　you'll　see　the　visions　I　turned　my　back　on。〃
　〃What　visions？〃
　Quaisoir　sighed。　〃I　was　loved　by　a　great　Maestro　once；〃　she　said。　〃He　showed　me　angels。　They　used　to　e　to　our　table　in　sunbeams。　I　swear。　Angels　in　sunbeams。　And　I　thought　we'd　live　forever；　and　I'd　learn　all　the　secrets　of　the　sea。　But　I　let　hurt　lead　me　out　of　the　sun。　I　let　him　persuade　me　the　spirits　didn't　matter。　Only　our　will　mattered；　and　if　we　willed　pain；　then　that　was　wisdom。　I　lost　myself　in　such　a　little　time；　Judith。　Such　a　little　time。〃　She　shuddered。　〃I　was　blinded　by　my　crimes　before　anyone　ever　took　a　knife　to　me。〃
　Jude　looked　pityingly　on　her　sister's　maimed　face。　〃We've　got　to　find　somebody　to　clean　your　wounds；〃　she　said。
　〃I　doubt　there's　a　doctor　left　alive　in　Yzordderrex；〃　Quaisoir　replied。　〃They're　always　the　first　to　go　in　any　revolution；　aren't　they？　Doctors；　tax　collectors；　poets。。。。〃
　〃If　we　can't　find　anybody　else；　I'll　do　it；〃　Jude　said；　leaving　the　security　of　the　wall　and　venturing　back　down　the　incline　to　where　Quaisoir　sat。
　〃I　thought　I　saw　Jesus　Christ　yesterday；〃　she　said。　〃He　was　standing　on　a　roof　with　his　arms　open　wide。　I　thought　he'd　e　for　me；　so　that　I　could　make　my　confession；　That's　why　I　came　here：　to　find　Jesu。　I　heard　his　messenger。〃
　〃That　was　me。〃
　〃You　were　。。。　in　my　thoughts？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃So　I　found　you　instead　of　Christos。　That　seems　like　a　greater　miracle。〃　She　reached　out　towards　Jude；　who　took　her　hand。　〃Isn't　it；　sister？〃
　'Tm　not　sure　yet；〃　Jude　said。　〃I　was　myself　this　morning。　Now　what　am　I？　A　copy；　a　forgery。〃
　The　word　brought　Klein's　Bastard　Boy　to　mind：　Gentle　the　faker；　making　profit　from　other　people's　genius。　Is　that　why　he'd　obsessed　upon　her？　Had　he　seen　in　her　some　subtle　clue　to　her　true　nature　and　followed　her　out　of　devotion　to　the　sham　she　was？
　〃I　was　happy；〃　she　said；　thinking　back　to　the　good　times　she'd　shared　with　him。　〃Maybe　I　didn't　always　realize　I　was　happy；　but　I　was。　I　was　myself。〃
　〃You　still　are。〃
　〃No；〃　she　said；　as　close　to　despair　as　she　could　ever　remember　being。　〃I'm　a　piece　of　somebody　else。〃
　〃We're　all　pieces；〃　Quaisoir　said。　〃Whether　we　were　born　or　made。〃　Her　fingers　tightened　around　Jude's　hand。　〃We're　all　hoping　to　be　whole　again。　Will　you　take　me　back　up　to　the　palace？〃　she　said。　〃We'll　be　safer　there　than　here。〃
　〃Of　course；〃　Jude　replied；　helping　her　up。
　〃Do　you　know　which　direction　to　go？〃
　She　said　she　did。　Despite　the　smoke　and　the　darkness；　the　walls　of　the　palace　loomed　above　them；　massive　but　remote。
　〃We've　got　quite　a　climb　ahead　of　us；〃　Jude　said。　〃It　may　take　us　till　morning。〃
　〃The　night　is　long　in　Yzordderrex；〃　Quaisoir　replied。
　〃It　won't　last　forever；〃　Jude　said。
　〃It　will　for　me。〃
　〃I'm　sorry。　That　was　thoughtless。　I　didn't　mean…〃
　〃Don't　be　sorry；〃　Quaisoir　said。　〃I　like　the　dark。　I　can　remember　the　sun　better。　Sun；　and　angels　at　the　table。　Will　you　take　my　arm；　sister？　I　don't　want　to　lose　you　again。〃
　
　
　2
　
　IN　ANY　OTHER　PLACE　BUT　THIS；　Gentle　might　have　been　frustrated　by　the　sight　of　so　many　sealed　doors；　but　as　Lazarevich　led　him　closer　to　the　Pivot　Tower　the　atmosphere　grew　so　thick　with　dread　he　was　glad　whatever　lay　behind　those　doors　was　locked　away。　His　guide　spoke　scarcely　at　all。　When　he　did　it　was　to　suggest　that　Gentle　make　the　rest　of　the　journey　alone。
　〃It's　a　little　way　now；〃　he　kept　saying。　〃You　don't　need　me　any　more。〃
　〃That's　not　the　deal；〃　Gentle　would　remind　him；　and　Lazarevich　would　curse　and　whine；　then　head　on　some　distance　in　silence；　until　a　shriek　down　one　of　the　passages；　or　a　glimpse　of　blood　spilled　on　the　polished　floor；　made　him　halt　and　start　his　little　speech　afresh。
　At　no　point　in　this　journey　were　they　challenged。　If　these　titanic　halls　had　ever　buzzed　with　activity…and　given　that　small　armies　could　be　lost　in　them；　Gentle　doubted　that　they　ever　had…they　were　all　but　deserted　now。　Those　few　servants　and　bureaucrats　they　did　encounter　were　busy　leaving；　burdened　with　hastily　gathered　belongings　as　they　hurried　down　the　corridors。　Survival　was　their　foremost　priority。　They　gave　the　bleeding　soldier　and　his　ill…dressed　panion　scarcely　a　look。
　At　last　they　came　to　a　door；　this　one　unsealed；　which　Lazarevich　refused　point…blank　to　enter。
　〃This　is　the　Pivot　Tower；〃　he　said；　his　voice　barely　audible。
　〃How　do　I　know　you're　telling　the　truth？〃
　〃Can't　you　feel　it？〃
　Now　it　was　remarked　upon；　Gentle　did　indeed　feel　a　subtle　sensation；　barely　strong　enough　to　be　called　a　tingle；　in　his　fingertips；　testicles；　and　sinuses。
　〃That's　the　tower；　I　swear；〃　Lazarevich　whispered。
　Gentle　believed　him。　〃All　right；〃　he　said。　〃You've　done　your　duty；　you'd　better　go。〃
　The　man　grinned。　〃You　mean　it？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Oh；　thank　you。　Whoever　you　are。　Thank　you。〃
　Before　he　could　skip　away；　Gentle　took　hold　of　his　arm　and　drew　him　close。　〃Tell　your　children；〃　he　said；　〃not　to　be　soldiers。　Poets；　maybe；　or　shoeshiners。　But　not　soldiers。　Got　it？〃
　Lazarevich　nodded　violently；　though　Gentle　doubted　he'd　prehended　a　word。　His　only　thought　was　of　escape；　and　he　took　to　his　heels　the　moment　Gentle　let　go　of　him　and　was　out　of　sight　in　two　or　three　seconds。　Turning　to　the　beaten　brass　doors；　Gentle　pushed　them　a　few　inches　wider　and　slipped　inside。　The　nerve　endings　in　his　scrotum　and　palms　knew　that　something　of　significance　was　nearby…　what　had　been　subtle　sensation　was　almost　painful　now…　even　though　his　eyes　were　denied　sight　of　it　by　the　murk　of　the　room　he'd　entered。　He　stood　by　the　door　until　he　was　able　to　grasp　some　sense　of　what　lay　ahead。　This　was　not；　it　seemed；　the　Pivot　Tower　itself　but　an　antechamber　of　some　kind；　as　stale　as　a　sickroom。　Its　walls　were　bare；　its　only　furniture　a　table　upon　which　a　canary　cage　lay　overturned；　its　door　open；　its　occupant　flown。　Beyond　the　table；　another　doorway；　which　he　took；　led　him　into　a　corridor；　staler　still　than　the　room　he'd　left。　The　source　of　agitation　in　his　nerve　endings　was　audible　now：　a　steady　tone　that　might　have　been　soothing　under　other　circumstances。　Not　knowing　which　direction　it　was　ing　from；　he　turned　to　his　right　and　crept　down　the　corridor。　A　flight　of　stairs　curved　out　of　sight　to　his　left。　He　chose　not　to　take　them；　his　instinct　rewarded　by　a　glimmer　of　light　up　ahead。　The　Pivot's　tone　became　less　insistent　as　he　advanced；　suggesting　this　route　was　a　cul…de…sac；　but　he　headed　on　towards　the　light　to　be　certain　Pie　was　not　being　held　prisoner　in　one　of　these　antechambers。
　As　he　came　within　half　a　dozen　strides　of　the　room　somebody　moved　across　the　doorway；　flitting　through　his　field　of　vision　too　quickly　to　be　seen。　He　flattened　himself　against　the　wall　and　edged　towards　the　room。　A　wick；　set　in　a　bowl　of　oil　on　a　table；　shed　the　light　he'd　been　drawn　to。　Beside　it；　several　plates　contained　the　remains　of　a　meal。　When　he　reached　the　door　he　waited　there　for　the　man…the　night　watch；　he　supposed…to　e　back　into　view。　He　had　no　wish　to　kill　him　unless　it　was　strictly　necessary。　There'd　be　enough　widows　and　orphans　in　Yzordderrex　by　tomorrow　morning　without　his　adding　to　the　sum。　He　heard　the　man　fart；　not　once　but　several　times；　with　the　abandon　of　someone　who　believed　himself　alone；　then　heard　him　open　another　door；　his　footsteps　receding。
　Gentle　chanced　a　glance　around　the　doorjamb。　The　room　was　empty。　He　quickly　stepped　inside；　intending　to　take　from　the　table　the　two　knives　that　were　lying　there。　On　one　of　the　plates　was　an　already　rifled　assortment　of　candies。　He　couldn't　resist。
　He　picked　the　most　luscious　and　had　it　to　his　mouth　when　the　man　behind　said；　〃Rosengarten？〃
　He　looked　around；　and　as　his　gaze　settled　on　the　face　across　the　room　his　jaw　clenched　in　shock；　breaking　on　the　candy　between　his　teeth。　Sight　and　sugar　mingled；　tongue　and　eye　feeding　such　a　sweetness　to　his　brain　he　reeled。
　The　face　before　him　was　a　living　mirror：　his　eyes；　his　nose；　his　mouth；　his　hairline；　his　bearing；　his　bafflement；　his　fatigue。　In　everything　but　the　cut　of　his　coat　and　the　muck　beneath　his　fingernails；　another　Gentle。　But　not　by　that　name；　surely。
　Swallowin