cb.imajica1-第43部分

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s　though　the　blades　were　already　there。　This　wasn't　right！　He'd　barely　been　out　of　the　Fifth　an　hour　and　he　was　seconds　from　death。　He　glanced　back。　The　Nullianac　had　closed　the　distance　between　them。　He　picked　up　his　pace；　pitching　himself　around　a　corner　and　into　a　tunnel　of　corrugated　iron；　with　no　way　out　at　the　other　end。
　〃Shite！〃　he　said；　taking　Tick　Raw's　favorite　word　for　his　plaint。　〃Furie；　you've　killed　yourself！〃
　The　walls　of　the　cul…de…sac　were　slick　with　filth；　and　high。　Knowing　he'd　never　scale　them；　he　ran　to　the　far　end　and　threw　himself　against　the　wall　there；　hoping　it　might　crack。　But　its　builders　（damn　them！）　had　been　better　craftsmen　than　most　in　the　vicinity。　The　wall　rocked；　and　pieces　of　its　fetid　mortar　fell　about　him；　but　all　his　efforts　did　was　bring　the　NuUianac　straight　to　him；　drawn　by　the　sound　of　his　effort。
　Seeing　his　executioner　approaching；　he　pitched　his　body　against　the　wall　afresh；　hoping　for　some　last…minute　reprieve。　But　all　he　got　was　bruises。　The　itch　at　his　nape　was　an　ache　now；　but　through　its　pain　he　formed　the　despairing　thought　that　this　was　surely　the　most　ignominious　of　deaths；　to　be　sliced　up　amid　sewage。　What　had　he　done　to　deserve　it？　He　asked　it　aloud。
　〃What　have　I　done？　What　the　fuck　have　I　done？〃
　The　question　went　unanswered；　or　did　it？　As　his　yells　ceased　he　found　himself　raising　his　hand　to　his　face；　not　knowing…even　as　he　did　so…why。　There　was　simply　an　inner　pulsion　to　open　his　palm　and　spit　upon　it。　The　spittle　felt　cold；　or　else　his　palm　was　hot。　Now　a　yard　away；　the　NuUianac　raised　its　twin　blades　above　its　head。　Gentle　made　a　fist；　lightly；　and　put　it　to　his　mouth。　As　the　blades　reached　the　top　of　their　arc；　he　exhaled。
　He　felt　his　breath　blaze　against　his　palm；　and　in　the　instant　before　the　blades　reached　his　head　the　pneuma　went　from　his　fist　like　a　bullet。　It　struck　the　NuUianac　in　the　neck　with　such　force　it　was　thrown　backwards；　a　livid　spurt　of　energy　breaking　from　the　gap　in　its　head　and　rising　like　earth…born　lightning　into　the　sky。　The　creature　feU　in　the　filth；　its　hands　dropping　the　blades　to　reach　for　the　wound。　They　never　touched　the　place。　Its　life　went　out　of　it　in　a　spasm；　and　its　prayerful　head　was　permanently　silenced。
　At　least　as　shaken　by　the　other's　death　as　by　the　proximity　of　his　own；　Gentle　got　to　his　feet；　his　gaze　going　from　the　body　hi　the　dirt　to　his　fist。　He　opened　it。　The　spittle　had　gone；　transformed　into　some　lethal　dart。　A　seam　of　discoloration　ran　from　the　baU　of　his　thumb　to　the　other　side　of　his　hand。　That　was　the　only　sign　of　the　pneuma's　passing。
　〃Holy　shite；〃　he　said。
　A　small　crowd　had　already　gathered　at　the　end　of　the　cul…de…sac；　and　heads　appeared　over　the　wall　behind　him。　From　every　side　came　an　agitated　buzz　that　wouldn't；　he　guessed；　take　long　to　reach　Hammeryock　and　Pontiff　Farrow。　It　would　be　naive　to　suppose　they　ruled　Vanaeph　with　only　one　executioner　in　their　squad。　There'd　be　others；　and　here；　soon。　He　stepped　over　the　body；　not　caring　to　look　too　closely　at　the　damage　he'd　done；　but　aware　with　only　a　passing　glance　that　it　was　substantial。
　The　crowd；　seeing　the　conquerer　approach；　parted。　Some　bowed；　others　fled。　One　said；　〃Bravo！〃　and　tried　to　kiss　his　hand。　He　pressed　his　admirer　away　and　scanned　the　alleys　in　every　direction；　hoping　for　some　sign　of　Pie　'oh'　pah。　Finding　none；　he　debated　his　options。　Where　would　Pie　go？　Not　to　the　top　of　the　mount。　Though　that　was　a　visible　rendezvous；　their　enemies　would　spot　them　there。　Where　else？　The　gates　of　Patashoqua；　perhaps；　that　the　mystif　had　pointed　out　when　they'd　first　arrived？　It　was　as　good　a　place　as　any；　he　thought；　and　started　off；　down　through　teeming　Vanaeph　towards　the　glorious　city。
　His　worst　expectations…that　news　of　his　crime　had　reached　the　Pontiff　and　her　league…were　soon　confirmed。　He　was　almost　at　the　edge　of　the　township；　and　within　sight　of　the　open　ground　that　lay　between　its　borders　and　the　walls　of　Patashoqua；　when　a　hue　and　cry　from　the　streets　behind　announced　a　pursuing　party。　In　his　Fifth　Dominion　garb；　jeans　and　shirt；　he　would　be　easily　recognized　if　he　started　towards　the　gates；　but　if　he　attempted　to　stay　within　the　confines　of　Vanaeph　it　would　be　only　a　matter　of　time　before　he　was　hunted　down。　Better　to　take　the　chance　of　running　now；　he　decided；　while　he　stiU　had　a　lead。　Even　if　he　didn't　make　it　to　the　gates　before　they　came　after　him；　they　surely　wouldn't　dispatch　him　within　sight　of　Pata…shoqua's　gleaming　walls。
　He　put　on　a　fair　turn　of　speed　and　was　out　of　the　township　in　less　than　a　minute；　the　motion　behind　him　gathering　volume。　Though　it　was　difficult　to　judge　the　distance　to　the　gates　in　a　light　that　lent　such　iridescence　to　the　ground　between；　it　was　certainly　no　less　than　a　mile；　perhaps　twice　that。　He'd　not　got　far　when　the　first　of　his　pursuers　appeared　from　the　outskirts　of　Vanaeph；　runners　fresher　and　lighter　than　he；　who　rapidly　closed　the　distance　between　them。　There　were　plenty　of　travelers　ing　and　going　along　the　straight　road　to　the　gates。　Some　pedestrians；　most　in　groups　and　dressed　like　pilgrims；　other；　finer　figures；　mounted　on　horses　whose　flanks　and　heads　were　painted　with　gaudy　designs；　still　others　riding　on　shaggy　derivatives　of　the　mule。　Most　envied　however；　and　most　rare；　were　those　in　motor　vehicles；　which；　though　they　basically　resembled　their　equivalents　in　the　Fifth…a　chassis　riding　on　wheels…were　in　every　other　regard　fresh　inventions。　Some　were　as　elaborate　as　baroque　altarpieces；　every　inch　of　their　bodywork　chased　and　filigreed。　Others；　with　spindly　wheels　twice　the　height　of　their　roofs；　had　the　preposterous　delicacy　of　tropical　insects。　Still　others；　mounted　on　a　dozen　or　more　tiny　wheels；　their　exhausts　giving　off　a　dense；　bitter　fume；　looked　like　speeding　wreckage；　asymmetrical　and　inelegant　farragoes　of　glass　and　metalwork。　Risking　death　by　hoof　and　wheel；　Gentle　joined　the　traffic　and　put　on　a　new　spurt　as　he　dodged　between　the　vehicles。　The　leaders　of　the　pack　behind　him　had　also　reached　the　road。　They　were　armed；　he　saw；　and　had　no　punction　about　displaying　their　weapons。　His　belief　that　they　wouldn't　attempt　to　kill　him　among　witnesses　suddenly　seemed　frail。　Perhaps　the　law　of　Vanaeph　was　good　to　the　very　gates　of　Patashoqua。　If　so；　he　was　dead。　They　would　overtake　him　long　before　he　reached　sanctuary。
　But　now；　above　the　din　of　the　highway；　another　sound　reached　him；　and　he　dared　a　glance　off　to　his　left；　to　see　a　small；　plain　vehicle；　its　engine　badly　tuned；　careering　in　his　direction。　It　was　open…topped；　its　driver　visible：　Pie　'oh'　pah；　God　love　him；　driving　like　a　man…or　mystif…possessed。　Gentle　changed　direction　instantly；　veering　off　the　road　and　dividing　a　herd　of　pilgrims　as　he　did　so；　and　raced　towards　Pie's　noisy　chariot。
　A　chorus　of　whoops　at　his　back　told　him　the　pursuers　had　also　changed　direction；　but　the　sight　of　Pie　had　given　heat　to　Gentle's　heels。　His　turn　of　speed　was　wasted；　however。　Rather　than　slowing　to　let　Gentle　aboard；　Pie　drove　on　past；　heading　towards　the　hunters。　The　leaders　scattered　as　the　vehicle　bore　down　upon　them；　but　it　was　a　figure　Gentle　had　missed；　being　carried　in　a　sedan　chair；　who　was　Pie's　true　target。　Hammeryock；　sitting　on　high；　ready　to　watch　the　execution；　was　suddenly　a　target　in　his　turn。　He　yelled　to　his　bearers　to　retreat；　but　in　their　panic　they　failed　to　agree　on　a　direction。　Two　pulled　left；　two　right。　One　of　the　chair's　arms　splintered；　and　Hammeryock　was　pitched　out；　hitting　the　ground　hard。　He　didn't　get　up。　The　sedan　chair　was　discarded；　and　its　bearers　fled；　leaving　Pie　to　veer　around　and　head　back　towards　Gentle。　With　their　leader　felled；　the　scattered　pursuers；　most　likely　coerced　into　serving　the　Pontiffs　in　the　first　place；　had　lost　heart。　They　were　not　sufficiently　inspired　to　risk　Hammeryock's　fate　and　so　kept　their　distance；　while　Pie　drove　back　and　picked　up　his　gasping　passenger。
　〃I　thought　maybe　you'd　gone　back　to　Tick　Raw；〃　Gentle　said；　once　he　was　aboard。
　〃He　wouldn't　have　wanted　me；〃　Pie　said。　〃I've　had　congress　with　a　murderer。〃
　〃Who's　that？〃
　〃You；　my　friend；　you！　We're　both　assassins　now。〃
　〃I　suppose　we　are。〃
　〃And　not　much　wele　in　this　region；　I　think。〃
　〃Where　did　you　find　the　vehicle？〃
　〃There's　a　few　of　them　parked　on　the　outskirts。　They'll　be　in　them　soon　enough；　and　after　us。〃
　〃The　sooner　we're　in　the　city　the　better；　then。〃
　〃I　don't　think　we'd　be　safe　there　for　long；〃　the　mystif　replied。
　It　had　maneuvered　the　vehicle　so　that　its　snub　nose　faced　the　highway。　The　choice　lay　before　them。　Left；　to　the　gates　of　Patashoqua。　Right；　down　a　highway　which　ran　on　past　the　Mount　of　Lipper　Bayak　to　a　horizon　that　rose；　at　the　farthest　limit　of　the　eye；　to　a　mountain　range。
　〃It's　up　to　you；〃　Pie　said。
　Gentle　looked　longingly　towards　the　city；　tempted　by　its　spires。　But　he　knew　there　was　wisdom　in　Pie's　advice。
　〃We'll　e　back　someday；　won't　we？〃　he　said。
　〃Certainly；　if　that's　what　you　want。〃
　〃Then　let's　head　the　other　way。〃
　The　mystif　turned　the　vehicle　onto　the　highway；　against　the　predominant　flow　of　traffic；　and　with　the　city　behind　them　they　soon　picked　up　speed。
　〃So　much　for　Patashoqua；〃　Gentle　said　as　the　walls　became　a　mirage。
　〃No　grea