cb.imajica2-第52部分

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an　actor。　Aren't　you？〃
　As　if　in　acquiescence；　Dowd　bowed　his　head。　But　as　he　did　so　he　dug　his　heels　into　the　rubble　and　refused　to　be　drawn　any　further。　Jude　started　to　voice　a　second　warning；　but　before　it　was　out　of　her　mouth；　his　fingers　closed　around　the　flesh　and　pulled　hard。　Caught　unawares；　Celestine　was　dragged　against　the　raw　edge　of　the　hole；　and　before　the　rest　of　her　filaments　could　e　to　her　aid　Dowd　had　raised　his　wrists　above　his　head　and　casually　snapped　the　flesh　that　bound　them。　Celestine　let　out　a　howl　of　pain　and　retreated　into　the　sanctuary　of　her　cell；　trailing　the　severed　ribbon。
　Dowd　gave　her　no　respite；　however；　but　went　in　instant　pursuit；　yelling　to　her　as　he　shambled　up　over　the　heaped　rubble；　〃I'm　not　your　slave！　I'm　not　your　dog！　And　you're　no　fucking　Goddess！　You're　a　whore！〃
　Then　he　was　gone　into　the　darkness　of　the　cell；　roaring。　Jude　ventured　a　few　steps　closer　to　the　hole；　but　the　batants　had　retreated　into　its　recesses；　and　she　saw　nothing　of　their　struggle。　She　heard　it；　however：　the　hiss　of　breaths　expelled　in　pain；　the　sound　of　bodies　pitched　against　the　stone。　The　walls　shook；　and　books　all　along　the　passageway　were　thrown　from　their　shelves；　the　tide　of　power　snatching　loose　sheets　and　pamphlets　up　into　the　air　like　birds　in　a　hurricane；　leaving　the　heavier　tomes　to　thrash　on　the　ground；　broken…backed。
　And　then；　suddenly；　it　was　over。　The　motion　in　the　cell　ceased　utterly；　and　there　were　several　seconds　of　motionless　hush；　broken　by　a　moan　and　the　sight　of　a　hand　reaching　out　of　the　murk　to　clutch　at　the　broken　wall。　A　moment　later　Dowd　stumbled　into　view；　his　other　hand　clamped　to　his　face。　Though　the　shards　he　carried　were　powerful；　the　flesh　they　were　seated　in　was　weak；　and　Celestine　had　exploited　that　frailty　with　the　efficiency　of　a　warrior。　Half　his　face　was　missing；　stripped　to　the　bone；　and　his　body　was　more　unknitted　than　the　corpse　he'd　left　on　the　table　above：　his　abdomen　gaping；　his　limbs　battered。
　He　fell　as　he　emerged。　Rather　than　attempting　to　get　to　his　feet…which　she　doubted　he　was　capable　of　doing…he　crawled　over　the　rubble　like　a　blind　man；　his　hands　feeling　out　the　wreckage　ahead。　Sobs　came　from　him　now　and　then；　and　whimpers；　but　the　effort　of　escape　was　quickly　consuming　what　little　strength　he　had；　and　before　he　reached　clear　ground　his　noises　gave　out。　So；　a　little　time　after；　did　he。　His　arms　folded　beneath　him；　and　he　collapsed；　face　to　the　floor；　surrounded　by　twitching　books。
　Jude　watched　his　body　for　a　count　of　ten；　then　moved　back　towards　the　cell。　As　she　came　within　two　yards　of　his　body；　she　saw　a　motion　and　froze　in　her　tracks。　There　was　life　in　him　still；　though　it　wasn't　his。　The　mites　were　exiting　his　open　mouth；　like　fleas　hastening　from　a　cooling　host。　They　came　from　his　nostrils；　too；　and　from　his　ears。　Without　his　will　t6　direct　them　they　were　probably　harmless；　but　she　wasn't　going　to　test　that　notion。　She　stepped　as　wide　of　them　as　she　could；　taking　an　indirect　route　up　over　the　rubble　to　the　threshold　of　Celestine's　asylum。
　The　shadows　were　much　thickened　by　the　dust　that　danced　in　the　air；　an　aftermath　of　the　forces　that　had　been　unleashed　inside。　But　Celestine　was　visible；　lying　crookedly　against　the　far　wall。　He'd　done　her　harm；　no　doubt　of　that。　Her　pale　skin　was　seared　and　ruptured　at　thigh；　flank；　and　shoulder。　Roxborough's　purgative　zeal　still　had　some　jurisdiction　in　his　tower；　Jude　thought。　She'd　seen　three　apostates　laid　low　in　the　space　of　an　hour　one　above　and　two　below：
　Of　them　all；　his　prisoner　Celestine　seemed　to　have　suffered　least。　Wounded　though　she　was；　she　still　had　the　will　to　turn　her　fierce　eyes　in　Jude's　direction　and　say；　〃Have　you　e　to　crow？〃
　〃I　tried　to　warn　you；〃　Jude　said。　〃I　don't　want　us　to　be　enemies；　Celestine。　I　want　to　help　you。〃
　〃On　whose　mand？〃
　〃On　my　own。　Why'd　you　assume　everybody's　a　slave　or　a　whore　or　somebody's　damn　dog？〃
　〃Because　that's　the　way　the　world　is；〃　she　said。
　〃It's　changed；　Celestine。〃
　〃What？　Are　the　humans　gone　then？〃
　〃It's　not　human　to　be　a　slave。〃
　〃What　would　you　know？〃　the　woman　said。　〃I　don't　sniff　much　humanity　in　you。　You're　some　kind　of　pretender；　aren't　you？　Made　by　a　Maestro。〃
　It　would　have　pained　Jude　to　hear　such　dismissal　from　any　source；　but　from　this　woman；　who'd　been　for　so　long　a　beacon　of　hope　and　healing；　it　was　the　bitterest　condemnation。　She'd　fought　so　hard　to　be　more　than　a　fake；　forged　in　a　manmade　womb。　But　with　a　few　words　Celestine　had　reduced　her　to　a　mirage。
　〃You're　not　even　natural；〃　she　said。
　〃Nor　are　you；〃　Jude　snapped　back。
　〃But　I　was　once；〃　Celestine　said。　〃And　I　cling　to　that。〃
　〃Cling　all　you　like；　it　won't　change　the　facts。　No　natural　woman　could　have　survived　in　here　for　two　centuries。〃
　〃I　had　my　revenge　to　nourish　me。〃
　〃On　Roxborough？〃
　〃On　them　all；　all　except　one。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃The　Maestro。。。　Sartori。〃
　〃You　knew　him？〃
　〃Too　little；〃　Celestine　said。
　There　was　a　weight　of　sorrow　here　Jude　didn't　prehend；　but　she　had　the　means　to　ameliorate　it　on　her　tongue；　and　for　all　Celestine's　cruelties　Jude　wasn't　about　to　withhold　the　news。
　〃Sartori　isn't　dead；〃　she　said。
　Celestine　had　turned　her　face　to　the　wall；　but　now　looked　back　at　Jude。　〃Not　dead？〃
　〃I'll　find　him　for　you　if　you　want；〃　Jude　said。
　〃You'd　do　that？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Are　you　his　mistress？〃
　〃Not　exactly。〃
　〃Where　is　he？　Is　he　near？〃
　〃I　don't　know　where　he　is。　Somewhere　in　the　city。〃
　〃Yes。　Fetch　him。　Please；　fetch　him。〃　She　hauled　herself　up　the　wall。　〃He　doesn't　know　my　name；　but　I　know　him。〃
　〃So　who　shall　I　tell　him　you　are？〃
　〃Ask　him　。。。　ask　him　if　he　remembers　Nisi　Nirvana。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃Just　tell　him。〃
　〃Nisi　Nirvana？〃
　〃That's　right。〃
　Jude　stood　up　and　returned　to　the　hole　in　the　wall；　but　as　she　was　about　to　step　out　Celestine　recalled　her。
　〃What's　your　name？〃　she　asked。
　〃Judith。〃…〃Well；　Judith；　not　only　do　you　stink　of　coitus；　but　you　have　in　your　hand　some　piece　of　flesh　which　you　haven't　given　up　clutching。　Whatever　it　is；　let　it　go。〃
　Appalled；　Jude　looked　down　at　her　hand。　The　curiosity　was　still　in　her　possession；　half　hanging　from　her　fist。　She　pitched　it　away；　into　the　dust。
　〃Do　you　wonder　I　took　you　for　a　whore？〃　Celestine　remarked。
　〃Then　we've　both　made　mistakes；〃　Jude　replied；　looking　back　at　her。　〃I　thought　you　were　my　salvation。〃
　〃Yours　was　the　greater　error；〃　Celestine　replied。
　Jude　didn't　grace　this　last　piece　of　spite　with　a　reply　but　headed　out　of　the　cell。　The　mites　that　had　exited　Dowd's　body　were　still　crawling　around　aimlessly；　looking　for　a　new　bolthole；　but　the　flesh　they'd　vacated　had　upped　and　gone。　She　wasn't　altogether　surprised。　Dowd　was　an　actor　to　his　core。　He　would　postpone　his　farewell　scene　as　long　as　possible；　in　the　hope　that　he'd　be　at　center　stage　when　the　final　curtain　fell。　A　hopeless　ambition；　given　the　fame　of　his　fellow　players；　and　one　Jude　wasn't　foolish　enough　to　share。　The　more　she　learned　about　the　drama　unfolding　around　her；　with　its　roots　in　the　tale　of　Christos　the　Reconciler；　the　more　resigned　she　was　to　having　little　or　no　role　in　it。　Like　the　Fourth　Magi；　expunged　from　the　Nativity；　she　wasn't　wanted　in　the　Gospel　about　to　be　written；　and　having　seen　the　pitiful　place　a　king's　testament　had　e　to；　she　was　not　about　to　waste　time　writing　her　own。

　
　13
　
　Clem's　duties　were　done　for　the　night。　He'd　been　out　since　seven　the　previous　evening；　about　the　same　business　that　took　him　out　every　night：　the　shepherding　of　those　among　the　city's　homeless　too　frail　or　too　young　to　survive　long　on　its　streets　with　only　concrete　and　cardboard　for　a　bed。　Midsummer　Night　was　only　two　days　away；　and　the　hours　of　darkness　were　short　and　relatively　balmy；　but　there　were　other　stalkers　besides　the　cold　that　preyed　on　the　weak…all　human…and　the　work　of　denying　them　their　quarry　took　him　through　the　empty　hours　after　midnight　and　left　him；　as　now；　exhausted；　but　too　full　of　feeling　to　lay　down　his　head　and　sleep。　He'd　seen　more　human　misery　in　the　three　months　he'd　been　working　with　the　homeless　than　in　the　four　decades　preceding　that。　People　living　in　the　extremes　of　deprivation　within　spitting　distance　of　the　city's　most　conspicuous　symbols　of　justice；　faith；　and　democracy：　without　money；　without　hope；　and　many　（these　the　saddest）　without　much　left　of　their　sanity。　When　he　returned　home　after　these　nightly　treks；　the　hole　left　in　him　by　Taylor's　passing　not　filled　but　at　least　forgotten　for　a　while；　it　was　with　expressions　of　such　despair　in　his　head　that　his　own；　met　in　the　mirror；　seemed　almost　blithe。
　Tonight；　however；　he　lingered　in　the　dark　city　longer　than　usual。　Once　the　sun　was　up　he　knew　he'd　have　little　or　no　chance　of　sleeping；　but　sleep　was　of　little　consequence　to　him　at　the　moment。　It　was　two　days　since　he'd　had　the　visitation　that　had　sent　him　to　Judy's　doorstep　with　tales　of　angels；　and　since　then　there'd　been　no　further　hint　of　Taylor's　presence。　But　there　were　other　hints；　not　in　the　house　but　out　here　in　the　streets；　that　powers　were　abroad　which　his　dear　Taylor　was　just　one　sweet　part　of。
　He'd　had　evidence　of　this　only　a　short　time　ago。　Just　after　midnight　a　man　called　Tolland；　apparently　much　feared　amon