da.solongandthanksforallthefish-第9部分

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ong　voice　was　being　received；　Pleiades　Zeta。
　　The　bright　orange　curve　that　filled　over　half　the　visible　area　was　the　giant　gas　planet　Sesefras　Magna；　where　the　Xaxisian　battleships　docked；　and　just　rising　over　its　horizon　was　a　small　cool　blue　moon；　Epun。
　　…　At　the　third　stroke　it　will　be。。。
　　For　twenty　minutes　he　sat　and　watched　as　the　gap　between　the　ship　and　Epun　closed；　as　the　ship's　puter　teased　and　kneaded　the　numbers　that　would　bring　it　into　a　loop　around　the　little　moon；　close　the　loop　and　keep　it　there；　orbiting　in　perpetual　obscurity。
　　…　One。。。　fifty…nine。。。
　　His　original　plan　had　been　to　close　down　all　external　signalling　and　radiation　from　the　ship；　to　render　it　as　nearly　invisible　as　possible　unless　you　were　actually　looking　at　it；　but　then　he'd　had　an　idea　he　preferred。　It　would　now　emit　one　single　continuous　beam；　pencil…thin；　broadcasting　the　ining　time　signal　to　the　planet　of　the　signal's　origin；　which　it　would　not　reach　for　four　hundred　years；　travelling　at　light　speed；　but　where　it　would　probably　cause　something　of　a　stir　when　it　did。
　　…　Beep。。。　beep。。。　beep。
　　He　sniggered。
　　He　didn't　like　to　think　of　himself　as　the　sort　of　person　who　giggled　or　sniggered；　but　he　had　to　admit　that　he　had　been　giggling　and　sniggering　almost　continuously　for　well　over　half　an　hour　now。
　　…　At　the　third　stroke。。。
　　The　ship　was　now　locked　almost　perfectly　into　its　perpetual　orbit　round　a　little　known　and　never　visited　moon。　Almost　perfect。
　　One　thing　only　remained。　He　ran　again　the　puter　simulation　of　the　launching　of　the　ship's　little　Escape…O…Buggy；　balancing　actions；　reactions；　tangential　forces；　all　the　mathematical　poetry　of　motion；　and　saw　that　it　was　good。
　　Before　he　left；　he　turned　out　the　lights。
　　As　his　tiny　little　cigar　tube　of　an　escape　craft　zipped　out　on　the　beginning　of　its　three…day　journey　to　the　orbiting　space　station　Port　Sesefron；　it　rode　for　a　few　seconds　a　long　pencil…thin　beam　of　radiation　that　was　starting　out　on　a　longer　journey　still。
　　…　At　the　third　stroke；　it　will　be　two。。。　thirteen。。。　and　fifty　seconds。
　　He　giggled　and　sniggered。　He　would　have　laughed　out　loud　but　he　didn't　have　the　room。
　　…　Beep。。。　beep。。。　beep。
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　11
　　
　　…　April　showers　I　hate　especially。
　　However　nonmittally　Arthur　grunted；　the　man　seemed　determined　to　talk　to　him。　He　wondered　if　he　should　get　up　and　move　to　another　table；　but　there　didn't　seem　to　be　one　free　in　the　whole　cafeteria。　He　stirred　his　coffee　fiercely。
　　…　Bloody　April　showers。　Hate　hate　hate。
　　Arthur　stared；　frowning；　out　of　the　window。　A　light；　sunny　spray　of　rain　hung　over　the　motorway。　Two　months　he'd　been　back　now。　Slipping　back　into　his　old　life　had　in　fact　been　laughably　easy。　People　had　such　extraordinarily　short　memories；　including　him。　Eight　years　of　crazed　wanderings　round　the　Galaxy　now　seemed　to　him　not　so　much　like　a　bad　dream　as　like　a　film　he　had　videotaped　from　the　TV　and　now　kept　in　the　back　of　a　cupboard　without　bothering　to　watch。
　　One　effect　that　still　lingered　though；　was　his　joy　at　being　back。　Now　that　the　Earth's　atmosphere　had　closed　over　his　head　for　good；　he　thought；　wrongly；　everything　within　it　gave　him　extraordinary　pleasure。　Looking　at　the　silvery　sparkle　of　the　raindrops　he　felt　he　had　to　protest。
　　…　Well；　I　like　them；　…　he　said　suddenly；　…　and　for　all　the　obvious　reasons。　They're　light　and　refreshing。　They　sparkle　and　make　you　feel　good。
　　The　man　snorted　derisively。
　　…　That's　what　they　all　say；　…　he　said；　and　glowered　darkly　from　his　corner　seat。
　　He　was　a　lorry　driver。　Arthur　knew　this　because　his　opening；　unprovoked　remark　had　been；
　　…　I'm　a　lorry　driver。　I　hate　driving　in　the　rain。　Ironic　isn't　it？　Bloody　ironic。
　　If　there　was　a　sequitur　hidden　in　this　remark；　Arthur　had　not　been　able　to　divine　it　and　had　merely　given　a　little　grunt；　affable　but　not　encouraging。
　　But　the　man　had　not　been　deterred　then；　and　was　not　deterred　now。
　　…　They　all　say　that　about　bloody　April　showers；　…　he　said。　…　So　bloody　nice；　so　bloody　refreshing；　such　charming　bloody　weather。
　　He　leaned　forward；　screwing　his　face　up　as　if　he　was　going　to　say　something　about　the　government。
　　…　What　I　want　to　know　is　this；　…　he　said；　…　if　it's　going　to　be　nice　weather；　why；　…　he　almost　spat；　…　can't　it　be　nice　without　bloody　raining？
　　Arthur　gave　up。　He　decided　to　leave　his　coffee；　which　was　too　hot　to　drink　quickly　and　too　nasty　to　drink　cold。
　　…　Well；　there　you　go；　…　he　said　and　instead　got　up　himself。　…　Bye。
　　He　stopped　off　at　the　service　station　shop；　then　walked　back　through　the　car　park；　making　a　point　of　enjoying　the　fine　play　of　rain　on　his　face。　There　was　even；　he　noticed；　a　faint　rainbow　glistening　over　the　Devon　hills。　He　enjoyed　that　too。
　　He　climbed　into　his　battered　but　adored　old　black　Golf　GTi；　squealed　the　tires；　and　headed　out　past　the　islands　of　petrol　pumps　and　on　to　the　slip　road　back　towards　the　motorway。
　　He　was　wrong　in　thinking　that　the　atmosphere　of　the　Earth　had　closed　finally　and　for　ever　above　his　head。
　　He　was　wrong　to　think　that　it　would　ever　be　possible　to　put　behind　him　the　tangled　web　of　irresolutions　into　which　his　galactic　travels　had　dragged　him。
　　He　was　wrong　to　think　he　could　now　forget　that　the　big；　hard；　oily；　dirty；　rainbow…hung　Earth　on　which　he　lived　was　a　microscopic　dot　on　a　microscopic　dot　lost　in　the　unimaginable　infinity　of　the　Universe。
　　He　drove　on；　humming；　being　wrong　about　all　these　things。
　　The　reason　he　was　wrong　was　standing　by　the　slip　road　under　a　small　umbrella。
　　His　jaw　sagged。　He　sprained　his　ankle　against　the　brake　pedal　and　skidded　so　hard　he　very　nearly　turned　the　car　over。
　　…　Fenny！　…　he　shouted。
　　Having　narrowly　avoided　hitting　her　with　the　actual　car；　he　hit　her　instead　with　the　car　door　as　he　leant　across　and　flung　it　open　at　her。
　　It　caught　her　hand　and　knocked　away　her　umbrella；　which　then　bowled　wildly　away　across　the　road。
　　…　Shit！　…　yelled　Arthur　as　helpfully　as　he　cold；　leapt　out　of　his　own　door；　narrowly　avoided　being　run　down　by　McKeena's　AllWeather　Haulage；　and　watched　in　horror　as　it　ran　down　Fenny's　umbrella　instead。　The　lorry　swept　along　the　motorway　and　away。
　　The　umbrella　lay　like　a　recently　swatted　daddy…long…legs；　expiring　sadly　on　the　ground。　Tiny　gusts　of　wind　made　it　twitch　a　little。
　　He　picked　it　up。
　　…　Er；　…　he　said。　There　didn't　seem　to　be　a　lot　of　point　in　offering　the　thing　back　to　her。
　　…　How　did　you　know　my　name？　…　she　said。
　　…　Er；　well；　…　he　said。　…　Look；　I'll　get　you　another　one。。。
　　He　looked　at　her　and　tailed　off。
　　She　was　tallish　with　dark　hair　which　fell　in　waves　around　a　pale　and　serious　face。　Standing　still；　alone；　she　seemed　almost　sombre；　like　a　statue　to　some　important　but　unpopular　virtue　in　a　formal　garden。　She　seemed　to　be　looking　at　something　other　than　what　she　looked　as　if　she　was　looking　at。
　　But　when　she　smiled；　as　she　did　now；　it　was　as　if　she　suddenly　arrived　from　somewhere。　Warmth　and　life　flooded　into　her　face；　and　impossibly　graceful　movement　into　her　body。　The　effect　was　very　disconcerting；　and　it　disconcerted　Arthur　like　hell。
　　She　grinned；　tossed　her　bag　into　the　back　and　swivelled　herself　into　the　front　seat。
　　…　Don't　worry　about　the　umbrella；　…　she　said　to　him　as　she　climbed　in。　…　It　was　my　brother's　and　he　can't　have　liked　it　or　he　wouldn't　have　given　it　to　me。　…　She　laughed　and　pulled　on　her　seatbelt。　…　You're　not　a　friend　of　my　brother's　are　you？
　　…　No。
　　Her　voice　was　the　only　part　of　her　which　didn't　say　〃Good〃。
　　Her　physical　presence　there　in　the　car；　his　car；　was　quite　extraordinary　to　Arthur。　He　felt；　as　he　let　the　car　pull　slowly　away；　that　he　could　hardly　think　or　breathe；　and　hoped　that　neither　of　these　functions　were　vital　to　his　driving　or　they　were　in　trouble。
　　So　what　he　had　experienced　in　the　other　car；　her　brother's　car；　the　night　he　had　returned　exhausted　and　bewildered　from　his　nightmare　years　in　the　stars　had　not　been　the　unbalance　of　the　moment；　or；　if　it　had　been；　he　was　at　least　twice　as　unbalanced　now；　and　quite　liable　to　fall　off　whatever　it　is　that　wellbalanced　people　are　supposed　to　be　balancing　on。
　　…　So。。。　…　he　said；　hoping　to　kick　the　conversation　off　to　an　exciting　start。
　　…　He　was　meant　to　pick　me　up　…　my　brother　…　but　phoned　to　say　he　couldn't　make　it。　I　asked　about　buses　but　the　man　started　to　look　at　the　calendar　rather　than　a　timetable；　so　I　decided　to　hitch。　So。
　　…　So。
　　…　So　here　I　am。　And　what　I　would　like　to　know；　is　how　you　know　my　name。
　　…　Perhaps　we　ought　to　first　sort　out；　…　said　Arthur；　looking　back　over　his　shoulder　as　he　eased　his　car　into　the　motorway　traffic；　…　where　I'm　taking　you。
　　Very　close；　he　hoped；　or　long　away。　Close　would　mean　she　lived　near　him；　a　long　way　would　mean　he　could　drive　her　there。
　　…　I'd　like　to　go　to　Taunton；　…　she　said；　…　please。　If　that's　all　right。　It's　not　far。　You　can　drop　me　at。。。
　　…　You　live　in　Taunton？　…　he　said；　hoping　that　he'd　managed　to　sound　merely　curious　rather　than　ecstatic。　Taunton　was　wonderfully　close　to　him。　He　could。。。
　　…　No；　London；　…　she　said。　…　There's　a　train　in　just　under　an　hour。
　　It　was　the　worst　thing　possible。　Taunton　was　only　minutes　away　up　the　motorway。　He　wondered　what　to　do；　and　while　he　was　wondering　with　horror　heard　himself　saying：
　　…　Oh；　I　can　take　you　to　London。　Let　me　take　you　to　London。。。
　　Bungling　idiot。　Why　on　Earth　had　he　said　〃let〃　in　that　stupid　way？　He　was　behaving　like　a　twelve…year…old。
　　…　Are　you　going　to　London？　…　she　asked。
　　…　I　wasn't；　…　he　said；　…　but。。。　…　Bungling　idiot。
　　…　It's　very　kind　of　you；　…　she　said；　…　but　really　no。　I　like　to　go　by　train。　…　And　suddenly　she　was　gone。　Or　rather；　that　part　of　her　which　brought　her　to　life　was　gone。　She　looked　rather　distantly　out　of　the　window　and　hummed　lightly　to　herself。
　　He　couldn't　believe　it。
　　Thirty　seconds　into　the　conversation；　and　already　he'd　blown　it。
　　Grown　men；　he　told　himself；　in　flat　contradiction　of　centuries　of　accumulated　evidence　about　the　way　grown　men　behave；　do　not　behave　like　this。
　　Taunton　5　miles；　said　the　signpost。
　　He　gripped　the　steering　wheel