cb.imajica2-第61部分

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　The　girl…her　name　was　Monica…was　both　lovely　and　pliant。　She　met　his　gaze　only　coyly　at　first；　but　that　was　all　part　of　the　game；　and　it　contented　him　to　play　it　for　a　while；　as　a　diversion　from　the　ing　tragedy。　Coy　as　she　was；　she　didn't　reject　him　when　he　suggested　they　take　a　stroll　around　the　fields　of　demolished　buildings　at　the　back　of　Shiverick　Square；　though　she　made　some　remark　about　wanting　him　to　treat　her　carefully。　So　he　did。　They　walked　together　in　the　darkness　until　they　found　a　spot　where　the　undergrowth　thinned　and　made　a　kind　of　grove。　The　sky　was　clear　overhead；　and　she　had　a　fine；　swooning　sight　of　the　meteor　shower。
　〃It　always　makes　me　feel　a　little　bit　afraid；〃　she　told　him　in　a　charmless　Cockney。　〃Looking　at　the　stars；　I　mean。〃
　〃Why's　that？〃
　〃Well。。。　we're　so　small；　aren't　we？〃
　He'd　asked　her　earlier　to　tell　him　about　her　life；　and　she'd　volunteered　scraps　of　biography；　first　about　a　boy　called　Trevor；　who'd　said　he　loved　her　but　had　gone　off　with　her　best　friend；　then　about　her　mother's　collection　of　china　frogs；　and　how　much　she'd　like　to　live　in　Spain；　because　everybody　was　so　much　happier　there。　But　now；　without　prompting；　she　told　him　she　didn't　care　about　Spain　or　Trevor　or　the　china　frogs。　She　was　happy；　she　said；　and　the　sight　of　the　stars；　which　usually　scared　her；　tonight　made　her　want　to　fly；　to　which　he　said　that　they　could　indeed　fly；　together；　if　she　just　said　the　word。
　At　this　she　looked　away　from　the　sky；　with　a　resigned　sigh。
　〃I　know　what　you　want；〃　she　said。　〃You're　all　the　same。　Flying。　Is　that　your　fancy　word　for　it　then？〃
　He　said　she'd　misunderstood　him　pletely。　He　hadn't　brought　her　here　to　fumble　and　fuss　with　her。　That　was　beneath　them　both。
　〃What　then？〃　she　said。
　He　answered　her　with　his　hand；　too　swiftly　to　be　contradicted。　The　second　primal　act；　after　the　one　she'd　thought　he'd　brought　her　here　to　perform。　Her　struggles　were　almost　as　resigned　as　her　sigh；　and　she　was　dead　on　the　ground　in　less　than　a　minute。　Overhead；　the　stars　continued　to　fall　in　an　abundance　he　remembered　from　this　time　two　hundred　years　before。　An　unseasonal　rain　of　heavenly　bodies；　to　presage　the　business　of　tomorrow　night。
　He　dismembered　and　disemboweled　her　with　the　greatest　care　and　laid　the　pieces　around　the　grove　in　time…honored　fashion。　There　was　no　need　to　hurry。　This　working　was　better　pleted　in　the　bleak　moments　before　dawn；　and　they　were　still　some　hours　away。　When　they　came；　and　the　working　was　performed；　he　had　high　hopes　for　it。　Godolphin's　body　had　been　cold　when　he'd　used　it；　and　its　owner　scarcely　an　innocent。　The　creatures　he'd　tempted　from　the　In　Ovo　with　such　unappetizing　bait　had　therefore　been　primitive。　Monica；　on　the　other　hand；　was　warm　and　had　not　lived　long　enough　to　be　much　soiled。　Her　death　would　open　a　deeper　crack　in　the　In　Ovo　than　Godolphin's；　and　through　it　he　hoped　to　draw　a　particular　species　of　Oviate　uniquely　suited　for　the　work　tomorrow　would　bring：　a　sleek；　bitter…throated　kind；　that　would　help　him　prove；　by　tomorrow　night；　what　a　child　born　to　destruction　could　do。
　
　
　17
　
　AFTER　ALL　THAT　MONDAY　HAD　SAID　about　the　state　of　the　city；　Jude　had　expected　to　find　it　pletely　deserted；　but　this　proved　not　to　be　the　case。　In　the　time　between　his　returning　from　the　South　Bank　and　their　setting　out　for　the　estate；　the　streets　of　London；　which　were　as　devoid　of　romancing　tourists　and　partiers　as　Monday　had　claimed；　had　bee　the　territory　of　a　third　and　altogether　stranger　tribe：　that　of　men　and　women　who　had　simply　got　up　out　of　their　beds　and　gone　wandering。　Almost　all　of　them　were　alone；　as　though　whatever　unease　had　driven　them　out　into　the　night　was　too　painful　to　share　with　their　loved　ones。　Some　were　dressed　for　a　day　at　the　office：　suits　and　ties；　skirts　and　sensible　shoes。　Others　were　wearing　the　minimum　for　decency：　many　barefoot；　many　more　bare…chested。　All　wandered　with　the　same　languid　gait；　their　eyes　turned　up　to　scan　the　sky。
　As　far　as　Jude　could　see；　the　heavens　had　nothing　untoward　to　show　them。　She　caught　sight　of　a　few　shooting　stars；　but　that　wasn't　so　unusual　on　a　clear　summer　night。　She　could　only　assume　that　these　people　had　in　their　heads　the　idea　that　revelation　would　e　from　on　high　and；　having　woken　with　the　irrational　suspicion　that　such　revelation　was　imminent；　had　gone　out　to　look　for　it。
　The　scene　was　not　so　different　when　they　reached　the　suburbs：　ordinary　men　and　women　in　their　nightclothes；　standing　at　street　corners　or　on　their　front　lawns；　watching　the　sky。　The　phenomenon　petered　out　the　farther　from　the　center　of　London…from　Clerkenwell；　perhaps…they　traveled；　only　to　reappear　when　they　reached　the　outskirts　of　the　village　of　Yoke；　where；　just　a　few　days　before；　she　and　Gentle　had　stood　soaked　in　the　post　office。　Passing　down　the　lanes　they'd　trudged　in　the　rain　reminded　her　of　the　naive　ambition　she'd　returned　into　the　Fifth　bearing：　the　possibility　of　some　reunion　between　Gentle　and　herself。　Now　she　was　retracing　her　route　with　all　such　hopes　dashed；　carrying　a　child　that　belonged　to　his　enemy。　Her　two…hundred…year　courtship　with　Gentle　was　finally；　and　irredeemably；　over。
　The　undergrowth　around　the　estate　had　swelled　monstrously；　and　it　took　more　than　the　switch　Estabrook　had　wielded　to　clear　a　way　to　the　gates。　Despite　the　fact　that　it　was　flourishing；　the　greenery　smelled　rank；　as　if　it　was　decaying　as　quickly　as　it　was　growing；　and　its　buds　would　not　be　blossoms　but　rot。　Thrashing　to　left　and　right　with　his　knife；　Monday　led　the　way　to　the　gates　and　through　the　corrugated　iron　into　the　parkland　beyond。　Though　it　was　an　hour　for　moths　and　owls；　the　park　was　swarming　with　all　manner　of　daylight　life。　Birds　circled　the　air　as　though　misdirected　by　a　change　in　the　poles　and　blind　to　their　nests。　Gnats；　bees；　dragonflies；　and　all　the　mazing　species　of　a　summer's　day　flitted　in　desperate　confusion　through　the　moonlit　grass。　Like　the　sky　gazers　in　the　streets　they'd　passed　through；　Nature　sensed　imminence　and　could　not　rest。
　Jude's　own　sense　of　direction　served　her　well；　however。　Though　the　copses　scattered　ahead　of　them　looked　much　the　same　in　the　blue…gray　light；　she　fixed　upon　the　Retreat；　and　they　trudged　towards　it；　slowed　by　the　muddy　ground　and　the　thickness　of　the　grass。　Monday　whistled　as　he　went；　with　that　same　blissful　indifference　to　melody　that　Clem　had　remarked　upon　a　few　hours　before。
　〃Do　you　know　what's　going　to　happen　tomorrow？〃　Jude　asked　him；　almost　envious　of　his　strange　serenity。
　〃Yeah；　sort　of；〃　he　said。　〃There's　these　heavens；　see？　And　the　boss　is　going　to　let　us　go　there。　It's　going　to　be　amazin。〃
　〃Aren't　you　afraid？〃　she　said。
　〃What　of？〃
　〃Everything's　going　to　change。〃
　〃Good；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　fucked　off　with　the　way　things　are。〃
Then　he　picked　up　the　thread　of　his　whistle　again　and　headed　on　through　the　grass　for　another　hundred　yards；　until　a　sound　more　insistent　than　his　din　silenced　him。
　〃Listen　to　that。〃
　The　activity　in　the　air　and　the　grass　had　steadily　increased　as　they　approached　the　copse；　but　with　the　wind　blowing　in　the　opposite　direction　the　din　of　such　an　assembly　as　was　gathered　there　had　not　been　audible　until　now。
　〃Birds　and　bees；〃　Monday　remarked。　〃And　a　fuck　of　a　lot　of　'em。〃
　As　they　continued　their　advance；　the　scale　of　the　parliament　ahead　steadily　became　more　apparent。　Though　the　moonlight　did　not　pierce　the　foliage　very　deeply；　it　was　clear　that　every　branch　of　every　tree　around　the　Retreat；　to　the　tiniest　twiglet；　was　occupied　with　birds。　The　smell　of　their　massing　pricked　their　nostrils；　its　din；　their　ears。
　〃We're　going　to　get　our　heads　right　royally　shat　on；〃　Monday　said。　〃Either　that　or　we'll　get　stung　to　death。〃
　The　insects　were　by　now　a　living　veil　between　them　and　the　copse；　so　thick　that　they　gave　up　attempting　to　flail　it　aside　after　a　few　strides　and　bore　the　deaths　on　their　brows　and　cheeks；　and　the　countless　flutterings　in　their　hair；　in　order　to　pick　up　speed　and　dash　for　their　destination。　There　were　birds　in　the　grass　now；　moners　among　the　parliament；　denied　a　seat　on　the　branches。　They　rose　in　a　squawking　cloud　before　the　runners；　and　their　alarm　caused　consternation　in　the　trees。　A　thunderous　ascent　began；　the　mass　of　life　so　vast　that　the　violence　of　its　motion　beat　the　tender　leaves　down。　By　the　time　Jude　and　Monday　reached　the　corner　of　the　copse；　they　were　running　through　a　double　rain：　one　green　and　falling；　the　other　rising　and　feathered。
　Picking　up　her　pace；　Jude　overtook　Monday　and　headed　around　the　Retreat…the　walls　of　which　were　black　with　insects…to　the　door。　At　the　threshold；　she　halted。　There　was　a　small　fire　burning　inside；　built　close　to　the　edge　of　the　mosaic。
　〃Some　bugger　got　here　first；〃　Monday　remarked。
　〃I　don't　see　anyone。〃
　He　pointed　to　a　bundle　lying　on　the　floor　beyond　the　fire。　His　eyes；　more　accustomed　than　hers　to　seeing　life　in　rags；　had　found　the　fire　maker。　She　stepped　into　the　Retreat；　knowing　before　he　raised　his　head　who　this　creature　was。　How　could　she　not？　Three　times　before…once　here；　once　in　Yzordderrex；　and　once；　most　recently；　in　the　Tabula　Rasa's　tower…this　man　had　made　an　unexpected　arrival；　as　though　to　prove　what　he'd　claimed　not　so　long　ago：　that　their　lives　would　be　perpetually　interwoven；　because　they　were　the　same。
　〃Dowd？〃
　He　didn't　move。
　〃Knife；〃　she　said　to　Monday。
　He　passed　it　over　and；　armed；　she　advanced　across　the　Retreat　towards　the　bundle。　Dowd's　hands　were　crossed　on　his　chest；　as　though　he　expected　to　expire　where　he　lay。　His　eyes　were　closed；　but　they　were　the　only　part　of　his　face　that　was。　Almost　every　other　inch　had　been　laid　open　by　Celestine's　assault；　and　despite　his　legendary　powers　of　recuperation　he'd　been　unable　to　make　good　the　damage　done。　He　was　unmasked　to　the　bone。　Yet　he　breathed；　albeit　weakly；　and　moaned　to　himself　now　and　then；　as　though　dreaming　of　punishment　or　revenge。　She　was　half　tempted　to　kill　him　in　his　sleep　and　have　this　bitter　business　brought　to　an　end　on　the　spot。　But　she　was　curious　to　know　why　he　was　here。　Had　he　attempted　to　return　to　Yzordderrex；　and　failed；　or　was　he　expecting　someone　to　e　back　this　way　and　meet　him　here？　Either　could　be　significant　in　these　volatile　times；　and　though　in　her