cb.imajica2-第98部分

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；　violent　enough　to　sluice　the　murk　of　the　Erasure　out　of　the　air。　After　a　few　moments；　light　began　to　break　around　the　Maestros；　the　first　light　this　terrain　had　seen　since　Hapexamendios　had　drawn　the　void　over　his　Dominion。　By　it；　Gentle　saw　that　Jackeen's　exhilaration　was　rapidly　turning　to　panic。
　〃We're　going　to　drown！〃　he　yelled；　fighting　to　stay　on　his　feet　as　the　water　deepened。
　Gentle　didn't　retreat。　He　knew　where　his　duty　lay。　As　the　surf　broke　against　their　backs；　the　tide　threatening　to　drag　them　under；　he　raised　Huzzah's　gift　to　his　lips　and　kissed　it；　just　as　she　had　done。　Then　he　mustered　all　his　strength　and　threw　the　stone　out；　over　the　landscape　that　was　being　uncovered　before　them。　The　egg　went　from　his　hand　with　a　momentum　that　was　not　his　sinews'　work　but　its　own　ambition；　and　instantly　the　waters　went　in　pursuit　of　it；　dividing　around　the　Maestros　and　taking　their　tides　off　into　the　wasteland　of　the　First。
　It　would　take　the　waters　weeks；　perhaps　even　months；　to　cover　the　Dominion　from　end　to　end；　and　most　of　that　work　would　go　unwitnessed。　But　in　the　next　few　hours；　standing　at　their　vantage　point　where　the　City　of　God　had　once　begun；　the　Maestros　were　granted　a　glimpse　of　their　labor。　The　clouds　above　the　First；　which　had　been　as　inert　as　the　landscape　beneath；　now　began　to　churn　and　roil　and　shed　their　anguish　in　stupendous　storms；　which　in　turn　swelled　the　rivers　that　were　driving　their　cleansing　way　across　the　rot。
　Hapexamendios'　remains　were　not　despised。　With　the　purpose　of　the　Goddesses　fueling　their　every　drop；　the　waters　turned　the　slaughterhouse　over　and　over　and　over；　scouring　the　matter　of　its　poisons　and　sweeping　it　up　into　mounds；　which　the　exhilarated　air　festooned　with　vapors。
　The　first　ground　that　appeared　from　this　tumult　was　close　to　the　feet　of　the　Maestros　and　rapidly　became　a　ragged　peninsula　that　stretched　fully　a　mile　into　the　Dominion。　The　waters　broke　against　it　constantly；　bringing　with　every　wave　another　freight　of　Hapexamendios'　clay　to　increase　its　flanks。　Gentle　was　patient　for　a　time　and　stayed　at　the　border。　But　he　could　not　resist　the　invitation　forever；　and　finally；　ignoring　Jackeen's　words　of　caution；　he　set　off　down　the　spine　of　land　to　better　see　the　spectacle　visible　from　the　far　end。　The　waters　were　still　draining　from　the　new　earth；　and　here　and　there　lightning　still　ran　on　the　slopes；　but　the　ground　was　solid　enough；　and　there　were　seedlings　everywhere；　carried；　he　presumed；　from　Yzordderrex。　If　so；　there　would　be　abundant　life　here　in　a　little　while。
　By　the　time　he'd　reached　the　end　of　the　peninsula　the　clouds　overhead　were　begining　to　clear　somewhat；　lighter　for　their　furies。　Farther　off；　of　course；　the　process　he'd　been　privileged　to　witness　was　just　beginning；　as　the　storms　spread　in　all　directions　from　their　point　of　origin。　By　their　blazes　he　glimpsed　the　snaking　rivers；　going　about　their　work　with　undiminished　ambition。　Here　on　the　promontory；　however；　there　was　a　more　benign　light。　The　First　Dominion　had　a　sun；　it　seemed；　and　though　it　wasn't　yet　warm；　Gentle　didn't　wait　for　balmier　weather　to　begin　his　last　labors；　but　took　his　album　and　his　pen　from　his　jacket　and　sat　down　on　the　marshy　headland　to　work。　He　still　had　the　map　of　the　desert　between　the　gates　of　Yzordderrex　and　the　Erasure　to　set　down；　and　though　these　pages　would　doubtless　be　the　barest　in　the　album；　they　had　to　be　drawn　all　the　more　carefully　for　that　fact：　he　wanted　their　very　spareness　to　have　a　beauty　of　its　own。
　After　perhaps　an　hour　of　concentrated　work　he　heard　Jackeen　behind　him。　First　a　footfall；　then　a　question：
　〃Speaking　in　tongues；　Maestro？〃
　Gentle　hadn't　even　been　aware　of　the　inventory　he　was　rattling　off　until　his　attention　was　drawn　to　it：　a　seamless　list　of　names　that　must　have　been　inprehensible　to　anyone　other　than　himself；　the　stopping　places　of　his　pilgrimage；　as　familiar　to　his　tongue　as　his　many　names。
　〃Are　you　sketching　the　new　world？〃　Jackeen　asked　him；　hesitating　to　e　too　close　to　the　artist　while　he　worked。
　〃No；　no；〃　said　Gentle；　〃I'm　finishing　a　map。〃　He　paused；　then　corrected　himself。　〃No；　not　finishing。　Starting。〃
　〃May　I　look？〃
　〃If　you　like。〃
　Jackeen　went　down　on　his　haunches　behind　Gentle　and　peered　over　his　shoulder。　The　pages　that　depicted　the　desert　were　as　plete　as　Gentle　could　make　them。　He　was　now　attempting　to　delineate　the　peninsula　he　was　sitting　on；　and　something　of　the　scene　in　front　of　him。　It　would　be　little　more　than　a　line　or　two；　but　it　was　a　beginning。
　〃I　wonder；　would　you　fetch　Monday　for　me？〃
　〃Is　there　something　you　need？〃
　〃Yes；　I　want　him　to　take　these　maps　back　into　the　Fifth　with　him　and　give　them　to　Clem。〃
　〃Who's　Clem？〃
　〃An　angel。〃
　〃Ah。〃
　〃Would　you　bring　him　here？〃
　〃Now？〃
　〃If　you　would；〃　Gentle　said。　〃I'm　almost　done。〃
　Ever　dutiful；　Jackeen　stood　up　and　started　back　towards　the　Second；　leaving　Gentle　to　work　on。　There　was　very　little　left　to　do。　He　finished　making　his　crude　rendering　of　the　promontory；　then　he　added　a　line　of　dots　along　it　to　mark　his　path　and　at　the　headland　placed　a　small　cross　at　the　spot　where　he　was　sitting。　That　done；　he　went　back　through　the　album；　to　be　certain　that　the　pages　were　in　proper　order。　It　occurred　to　him　as　he　did　so　that　he'd　fashioned　a　self…portrait。　Like　its　maker；　the　map　was　flawed　but；　he　hoped；　redeemable：　a　rudimentary　thing　that　might　see　finer　versions　in　the　fullness　of　time；　be　made　and　remade　and　made　again；　perhaps　forever。
　He　was　about　to　set　the　album　down　beside　the　pen　when　he　heard　a　hint　of　coherence　in　the　surf　that　was　beating　against　the　slope　below。　Unable　to　quite　make　sense　of　the　sound；　he　ventured　to　the　edge。　The　ground　was　too　newly　made　to　be　solid　and　threatened　to　crumble　away　beneath　his　weight；　but　he　peered　over　as　far　as　he　could；　and　what　he　saw　and　what　he　heard　were　enough　to　make　him　retreat　from　the　edge；　kneel　down　in　the　dirt；　and　with　trembling　hands　start　scribbling　a　message　to　acpany　the　maps。
　It　was　necessarily　brief。　He　could　hear　the　words　clearly　now；　rising　from　the　surge　of　waves。　They　distracted　him　with　promises。
　〃Nisi　Nirvana；〃　they　said；　〃Nisi　Nirvana；。。。〃
　By　the　time　he'd　finished　his　note；　laid　down　the　album　and　the　pen　beside　it；　and　returned　to　the　edge　of　the　promontory；　the　sun　of　this　Dominion　was　emerging　from　the　storm　clouds　overhead　to　shed　its　light　on　the　waves　below。　The　beams　placated　them　for　a　time；　soothing　their　frenzy　and　piercing　them；　so　that　Gentle　had　a　glimpse　of　the　ground　they　were　moving　over。　It　was　not；　it　seemed；　an　earth　at　all；　but　another　sky；　and　in　it　was　a　sphere　so　majestic　that　to　his　eyes　all　the　bodies　in　the　heavens　of　the　Imajica…all　stars；　all　moons；　all　noonday　suns…could　not　in　their　sum　have　touched　its　glory。　Here　was　the　door　that　his　Father's　city　had　been　built　to　seal；　the　door　through　which　his　mother's　name　in　fable　had　been　whispered。　It　had　been　closed　for　millenniums；　but　now　it　stood　open；　and　through　it　a　music　of　voices　was　rising；　going　on　its　way　to　every　wandering　spirit　in　Imajica　and　calling　them　home　to　rapture。
　In　its　midst　was　a　voice　Gentle　knew；　and　before　he'd　even　glimpsed　its　source　his　mind　had　shaped　the　face　that　called　him；　and　his　body　felt　the　arms　that　would　wrap　him　around　and　bear　him　up。　Then　they　were　there…those　arms；　that　face…rising　from　the　door　to　claim　him；　and　he　needed　to　imagine　them　no　longer。　〃Are　you　finished？〃　he　was　asked。　〃Yes；〃　he　replied。　〃I'm　finished。〃
　〃Good；〃　said　Pie　'oh'　pah；　smiling。　〃Then　we　can　begin。〃
　The　congregation　Chicka　Jackeen　had　left　at　the　perimeter　of　the　First　had　steadily　begun　to　venture　along　the　peninsula　as　their　courage　and　curiosity　grew。　Monday　was　of　course　among　them；　and　Jackeen　was　just　about　to　call　the　boy　and　summon　him　to　the　Reconciler's　side　when　Monday　let　out　a　cry　of　his　own；　pointing　back　along　the　promontory。　Jackeen　turned　and　fixed　his　eyes…as　did　they　all…on　the　two　figures　standing　on　the　headland；　embracing。　Later　there　would　be　much　discussion　between　these　witnesses　as　to　what　they'd　actually　seen。　All　agreed　that　one　of　the　pair　was　the　Maestro　Sartori。　As　to　the　other；　opinions　differed　widely。　Some　said　they　saw　a　woman；　others　a　man；　still　others　a　cloud　with　a　piece　of　sun　burning　in　it。　But　whatever　these　ambiguities；　what　followed　was　not　in　doubt。　Having　embraced；　the　two　figures　advanced　to　the　limit　of　the　promontory；　where　they　stepped　out　into　the　air　and　were　gone。
　Two　weeks　later；　on　the　penultimate　day　of　a　cheerless　December；　Clem　was　sitting　in　front　of　the　fire　in　the　dining　room　of　number　28；　a　spot　from　which　he'd　seldom　risen　since　Christmas；　when　he　heard　a　hectic　beating　on　the　front　door。　He　was　not　wearing　a　watch…what　did　time　matter　now？　…　but　he　assumed　it　was　long　after　midnight。　Anyone　calling　at　such　an　hour　was　likely　to　be　either　desperate　or　dangerous；　but　in　his　present　bleak　mood　he　scarcely　cared　what　harm　might　await　him　in　the　street　outside。　There　was　nothing　left　for　him　here：　in　this　house；　in　this　life。　Gentle　had　gone；　Judy　had　gone；　and　so；　most　recently；　had　Tay。　It　was　five　days　since　he'd　heard　his　lover　whisper　his　name。
　〃Clem　。。。　I　have　to　go。〃
　〃Go？〃　he'd　replied。　〃Where　to？〃
　〃Somebody　opened　the　door；〃　came　Tay's　reply。　〃The　dead　are　being　called　home。　I　have　to　go。〃
　They　wept　together　for　a　while；　tears　pouring　from
　Clem's　eyes　while　the　sound　of　Tay's　anguish　racked　him　from　within。　But　there　was　no　help　for　it。　The　call　had　e；　and　though　Tay　was　grief…stricken　at　the　thought　of　parting　from　Clem；　his　existence　between　conditions　had　bee　unbearable；　and　beneath　the　sorrow　of　parting　was　the　joyful　knowledge　of　imminent　release。　Their　strange　union　was　over。　It　was　time　for　the　living　and　the　dead　to　part。
　Clem　hadn't　known　what　loss　really　was　until　Tay　left。　The　pain　of　losing　his　lover's　physical　body　had　been　acute　enough；　but　losing　the　spirit　that　had　so　miraculously　returned　to　him　was　immeasurably　worse。　It　was　not　possible；　he　thought；　to　be　emptier　than　this　and　still　be　a　living　being。　Several　times　during　those　dark　days　he'd　wondered　if　he　should　simply　kill　himself　and　hope　he　would　be　able　to　follow　his　lover　through　whatever　door　n