jefflong.yearzero-第51部分

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ew　heaven　or　hell。
　Like　a　bird　of　prey；　Izzy　cast　off　and　came　back；　bearing　new　stories。　〃It's　too　much；　too　much；〃　he　kept　saying　to　Nathan　Lee。　〃I'm　missing　so　much。　They're　giving　me　a　headache。〃　Then　he　would　fly　off　again　to　snag　more　tales。
　Three　men　came　over　and　stood　above　Nathan　Lee。　〃Who　are　you？〃　they　asked。
　〃Nathaniel；〃　he　said。
　〃Where　is　your　village？〃
　〃Gurrr…byaa；　td'oo…rraa…n'e；〃he　answered。North。　The　mountains。　He　and　Izzy　had　decided　that　was　the　safest　disguise　for　him；　a　mountain　yokel　on　the　far　edges　of　Aramaic　country。
　One　asked　him　something　about　Jerusalem。　Guessing；　he　answered；〃saa…paarr…chee。〃　He　had　been　a　traveler。　That　seemed　to　satisfy　them；　and　they　continued　their　rounds；　interrogating　other　prisoners。　Gathering　a　database；　Nathan　Lee　realized。　Organizing。
　He　steeped　in　the　words；　gaining　the　cadence；　expanding　his　grasp。　Aramaic　was　not　a　pretty　language；　heavy　on　consonants；　very　guttural；　very　macho。　Helped　out　by　their　body　language；　he　was　able　to　pick　up　the　gist　of　some　of　their　conversations。
　One　topic　of　fascination　was　their　new　bodies。　They　talked　about　their　bodies　as　if　they　were　exotic　animals。　It　didn't　matter　if　they　had　died　when　they　were　seventeen　or　seventy；　Miranda's　magic　had　resurrected　them　in　their　physical　prime。　Their　bodies　were　metabolically　twenty…five　years　old。。。and　free　of　their　previous　defects。　The　marks　of　their　crucifixion　were　erased。
　Most　were　satisfied　with　the　new　vessels　into　which　they　had　been　born。　Slaves　who　had　been　tattooed　for　ownership　seemed　lost　without　their　tattoos。　Men　whose　broken　bones　had　set　crookedly　two　thousand　years　ago；　or　whose　spines　had　grown　bent；　were　awestruck　by　their　new　bodies。　Warriors　who　had　lost　an　arm　or　leg　were　whole　again。　Skin　diseases；　gout；　and　arthritis　had　vanished。　The　jury　seemed　to　be　mixed。　Resurrection　was　bad；　but　also　good。
　〃I　was　never　this　tall；〃　one　marveled。
　Another　patted　his　soft　belly　and　pulled　at　the　fat。　〃I　look　like　a　rich　man；〃　he　gloated。
　They　opened　their　robes　to　pare　lab　scars　or　show　how　birth…marks　had　been　erased。　They　gestured　at　their　genitalia　with　disgust；　and　Nathan　Lee　finally　understood　that　they　were　scandalized　to　find　their　circumcisions　reversed。
　〃Who　said　life　would　be　easy？〃　a　big　man　said。
　〃Why　are　we　here？〃
　〃When　will　my　family　arrive？〃
　They　were　irrepressible。　The　yard　had　been　swept　of　debris；　but　they　found　all　kinds　of　strange　artifacts：　a　bottle　cap；　a　pair　of　sunglasses　some　scientist　had　left　perched　on　one　of　the　tree　branches；　pieces　of　wire；　nails；　and　several　dollars'　worth　of　nickels；　pennies；　and　quarters。　The　coins　were　examined　and　debated　with　great　interest。
　As　the　sun　sank；　the　pit　grew　colder。　They　added　more　logs　to　the　fire。　Someone　broke　off　a　bough　of　green　needles　and　laid　it　on　the　flames；　and　a　pungent　smoke　rose　up。　Men　gathered；　mumbling　prayers；　passing　their　hands　through　the　smoke；　drawing　it　into　their　lungs。　It　was　a　universal　habit。　All　you　needed　for　an　altar　was　a　place　out　of　the　wind。
　A　group　formed　and　began　kneeling　and　prostrating；　touching　their　foreheads　to　the　ground。　〃How　can　that　be？〃　Nathan　Lee　muttered　to　Izzy。　〃Mohammed　wasn't　born　for　another　five　hundred　years。〃
　〃Where　do　you　think　the　Muslims　picked　up　the　habit？〃　Izzy　asked。　〃From　the　early　Christians。　Do　you　hear　them？〃
　〃Abwoon　d'bwashmaya；〃they　chanted　together。〃Nethqadash　shmakh；　teytey　makuthakh。〃
　〃Our　father　in　heaven；　sacred　is　thy　name；　thy　kingdom　e；〃Izzy　translated。　His　eyes　were　gleaming。　〃It's　the　Lord's　Prayer；　pretty　much　the　way　Jesus　would　have　spoken　it。〃
　Nathan　Lee　darted　a　glance　at　the　cameras　and　all　were　fixed　on　the　knot　of　primitive　Christians。　For　the　most　part；　the　Christians　were　ignored　by　the　other　clones。　It　would　have　been　just　one　more　New　Age　cult　to　them。　In　fact；　only　two　of　the　clones　seemed　to　be　paying　the　slightest　attention。　One　was　the　man　so　certain　this　was　Egypt；　and　his　eyes　were　narrowed　and　musing。　The　other　was　the　fugitive；　who　stood　back；　as　if　he　had　been　thrown　into　a　pit　of　lions。
　
　24
　The　Year　Zero　Hour
　
　SEPTEMBER
　Once　upon　a　time；　Joab　was　a　shepherd　from　Hebron。　Now　he　was　a　tree　climber。　Nathan　Lee　had　never　seen　a　man；　or　boy；　love　climbing　through　branches　so　much。　Probably　there　had　never　been　such　a　beautiful；　tall　tree　in　Hebron。　When　he　wasn't　scrambling　up　and　down　the　tree；　Joab　was　off　at　a　distance；　watching　it。　None　of　the　other　men　thought　Joab's　behavior　odd；　so　Nathan　Lee　dismissed　it。
　Then　one　morning；　high　in　the　tree；　he　saw　a　bluejay　struggling　in　a　spider　web　that　was　large　and　nearly　invisible。　Quick　as　a　monkey；　Joab　raced　up　the　limbs。　The　spider　web；　it　turned　out；　was　a　net　made　of　threads　from　his　robe。　Joab's　hand　gently　closed　over　the　frantic　bird；　and　he　descended　to　the　fire。
　By　this　time；　the　clones　were　all　aware　of　his　capture；　and　they　gathered　to　see。　There　was　some　discussion　about　its　color　and　size；　and　whether　it　was　good　enough。　Finally；　Lazarus　took　the　jay　from　Joab's　hands。　With　a　twist；　he　broke　the　bird's　neck。　Then　he　spread　its　blue　wings　wide　open　and　laid　the　bird　on　the　flames。
　Nathan　Lee　thought　they　meant　to　eat　the　bird。　But　men　began　swaying　and　mumbling。　One　cantor　sang　a　prayer。　The　Christians　bunched　together　and　prostrated　like　Muslims。　Men　filed　past；　holding　little　charms　in　the　smoke；　or　passed　their　fingers　through　the　heat　and　held　it　to　their　foreheads　or　eyes　or　hearts。　Others　watched　closely；　academically；　remarking　on　stages　of　the　bird's　incineration。
　That　was　the　first　of　the　burnt　sacrifices。
　　
　LOSALAMOS　WATCHEDthe　clones　in　awe。
　Thanks　to　the　plague；　the　city　had　already　bee　a　treasure　chest　of　the　exotic　and　beautiful。　One　of　the　Japanese　scientists　had　brought　the　originalSunflowers　by　Van　Gogh。　There　were　a　dozen　Charles　Russells　and　Frederic　Remingtons；　two　Paul　Klees；　a　carved　ivory　tower　from　the　Ming　period　which　required　a　magnifying　glass　to　see　all　its　dragons；　coin　collections；　private　libraries　of　signed；　first　edition　books；　framed　letters　written　by　Presidents；　African　masks；　several　Martian　meteorites；　a　Triceratops　skull；　and　more。
　Their　little　paradise　on　the　hill　had　drawn　precious　objects　to　it　like　a　magnet。　There　was　no　lack　of　supply：　soldiers　had　raided　empty　museums；　long…haul　truckers　had　brought　pawn；　mune　leaders　from　the　valley　bartered　urban　loot　for　food；　and　eleventh…hour　arrivals　like　Nathan　Lee　had　showed　up　at　the　gate　with　treasures　and　rare　talents　to　bribe　their　way　inside。　Last　winter；　a　troupe　of　Bolshoi　Ballet　dancers　had　been　granted　entrée。　The　Cowboy　Junkies　got　through　the　fence　when　their　lead　singer；　a　Canadian　beauty　named　Margo；　bewitched　the　guards　with　an　a　cappella　rendition　of　〃The　House　of　the　Rising　Sun。〃　The　list　went　on：　pianists；　painters；　the　Denver　symphony；　Hollywood　actors；　and　novelists　now　sheltered　here；　singing　for　their　supper。　Little　girls　learned　arabesques　from　some　of　the　greatest　ballerinas。　The　city　was　treated　to　opera；　exhibitions；　and　world　class　music。
　But　until　now　they　had　seen　nothing　like　the　clones。　Their　fascination　went　beyond　the　city's　hunger　for　news　that　was　not　bad；　or　for　a　secret　that　could　safely　be　told；　or　for　mere　entertainment。　It　resembled　the　voyeurism　of　their　plague　surfing；　but　was　something　else　entirely。　Watching　dams　crumble　and　cities　burn　and　plague　victims　transmitting　their　last　thoughts　from　basements　and　high…rise　holdouts　or　from　that　rope　village　in　the　redwoods　had　bee　predictable　and　mundane。　Satellites　occassionally　streaked　through　the　night　sky　like　fiery　meteorites。　Such　things　were　the　unmaking　of　a　world　they　had　helped　make。
　But　with　the　debut　of　Nathan　Lee's　time　travelers；　the　city　suddenly　gained　a　lost　world。　It　was　alien；　and　yet　oddly；　vaguely　familiar。　It　was　like　visiting　the　moon。
　The　Year　Zero　Hour　had　its　roots　in　a　bootleg　video　of　the　Lord's　Prayer　〃event〃　patched　together　at　home　by　one　of　the　Captain's　guards。　Copies　of　the　tape　were　passed　from　hand　to　hand；　one　puter　to　another。　Nathan　Lee　was　much　too　busy　to　pay　attention　to　the　growing　excitement。　Sensing　something　extraordinary；　the　Office　of　Public　Affairs　became　involved。　One　night　in　their　second　week　in　the　yard　of　the　sun；　the　clones　went　prime　time　on　the　city's　cable　network。　Nathan　Lee　was　startled　to　see　them　on　television。　The　boys　were　a　hit　and　didn't　even　know　it。
　It　was　an　odd　creature；　this　hour　of　jumpy；　edited　scenes　with　English　subtitles。　The　early　black…and…white　footage　looked　like　something　from　a　convenience　store　security　camera。　More　sophisticated　cameras　were　installed　on　the　yard's　walls；　more　sound　dishes。　The　production　quality　jumped　when　a　famous　Hollywood　director；　who　had　been　granted　safe　haven　within　Los　Alamos；　volunteered　his　services。　A　Mideastern　soundtrack　was　added　to　the　beginning　and　end　of　the　Hour。　There　was　no　narrator　to　guide　the　viewer；　no　segues　to　pull　the　pieces　together；　no　thread　to　follow；　just　clones　gossiping　in　a　dead　language　while　they　sat　around　a　fire　or　walked　in　circles。
　Each　held　faith　with　one　god　or　another。　Like　men　tugging　on　a　rope；　they　had　pulled　their　rituals　with　them　through　the　veil　of　time。　Besides　the　burnt　offerings；　they　made　charms　and　amulets　and　prayer　beads；　and　tied　red　twine　around　their　wrists　or　throats　or　draped　strings　over　one　shoulder。　A　few　tattooed　each　other's　faces　and　arms　with　charcoal　paste　and　a　nail。
　Izzy　came　up　with　the　idea　of　bringing　raw　materials　into　the　yard。　Soon　the　clones　were　making　sandals；　braiding　rope；　fashioning　lyres；　playing　flutes；　cooking；　running　a　small　bazaar；　hammering　copper；　making　jewelry；　drawing　graffiti　on　the　walls。　John　the　Second；　as　they　called　him；　the　shorter　one；　proved　to　be　quite　an　artist；　spending　day　after　day　on　a　big　picture　of　a　fishing　boat。
　　
　〃WHAT　HAVE　YOU　UNLEASHED？〃　Miranda　asked　Nathan　Lee　one　night。　They　were　in　the　Necro　Archives。　It　was　very　late。　She　had　begun　appearing　in　the　archives　more　often。Knock；　knock；　she　would　say。　Generally　it　was　near　midnight　when　the　hallways　were　empty　and　the　lab　was　quiet。
　Nathan　Lee　had　taken　to　eating　and　sleeping　in　the　archives　to　save　time。　Fou